Practicing the art of publishing and relentless Optimism against the INEVITABLE flow of time and my own self consciousness by not taking it too seriously.

New York.

Chickens, Weeds, Dirt.

Man, I had such a great time. I took 4 hours on this beautiful Saturday to volunteer at East New York Farms at the UCC Farms. This was a large community farm attached to a community center that also included classrooms, gyms, and other children activity spaces. The garden had been filled with cover crops, as the new planting season hasn’t yet begun. So, the work was mainly cleaning trash, weeding, and some compost labor.

The group composed of all ages, some twenty people. I would guess that the good weather brought lots of interest. A majority were from the area, though there were transplants from other neighborhoods as well.

The farm was expansive, comprising of a fish/rice pond, chicken coop, dozens of beds, including beds for rent, a rainwater collector, a greenhouse area, compost bins, a couple of flowering trees, picnic tables, a storage container, and a squash growth tunnel.
The community center was closed, though I peeked around when I went to the bathroom. It seemed to be a classroom that offered different studies, a gym and other things. It generally was aimed at kids 2- 15, as deemed by the sign on the building.

The Farm!

The Farm!

I started with picking up trash with a couple other volunteers. After cleaning around the perimeter and the inside, I switched to weeding. I weeded for a couple hours, including through the lunch break. Afterwards, four of us were tasked with cleaning out the compost bin. Apparently, in order for compost to break down properly, material at the bottom/middle of the pile must be rotated with oxygen to have all to the bugs/bacteria/fugus spread and breakdown everything equally. This required the tasteful task of digging out all the compost in the two bins, probably 40 sq ft?

I always feel like I volunteer for the worst jobs. Am I trying to just do the worst jobs because I feel like I need to be productive, or from some structure of manliness that I’m trying to fulfill? Or just trying to take relative equal burdens given particular skill/strength sets? I really don’t know. But I know, I volunteered to pick up trash and literally dig up rotting garbage over weeding.

Regardless, all the time spent in the dirt and muck was actually rewarding and pleasantly stimulating, especially considering how inactive I had been the last few weeks and that my job generally demands long periods of sitting and looking at computer screens. It was a wonderful relief to be doing such manual labor. It also reminded me of that myth that men are made of earth, which I can understand the root. Much of early labor required earth manipulation. Whether that’s farming chores or creating pottery or whatever, humans have an innate connection with Gaia. It was nice to be reminded of that connection.

After finishing up, I followed the chickens around a little more. Apparently if they lay eggs outside the coop, and you can find it, it’s yours. Two of the younger kid volunteers (Andre and Martin(?)) and I scoured the farm to no avail. Before picking up a container of jerked chicken from a nice lady street vendor. Partially because following the chickens around made me hungry, partially to have a taste of the neighborhood. And because I missed lunch and the smoker right by the subway smelled delicious. Good location.

The farm was super cool, showing how a community can come together to produce goods that get sold back to the community. It’s a healthy, clean, environmentally friendly, cost effective, communal, educational, and pretty collection of effort/means of production. I’m highly impressed that it was mostly run by local school kids, who were our chaperons and team leaders. I was taken back by the poise, knowledgeability, and leadership capabilities of the students. I think that it is an amazing opportunity for the local student body to take so much responsibility.

I also generally like the idea of community farms. And this farm in particular seemed to have an ability to experiment and try new things. They are going to plant a native American section, using the Three Sisters (thanks AP History), tobacco, and tomatoes. The chickens were donated. There was a second coop, allowing them to peck at and fertilizer individual sections of the farm beds. It was a smart way to reutilize the weeds to feed the chickens and chicken waste to revitalize the dirt. They gathered rain water from the roofs of nearby houses for reuse. The pond would get cleaned, and the dirty-fish-waste-ridden water was also used as fertilizer. They would even put rice plants in the pond, to feed the fish and feed the plants.

Well behaved chickens in their coop. They weed and fertilize the bed underneath them.

Well behaved chickens in their coop. They weed and fertilize the bed underneath them.

Overall I had a really wonderful experience. I totally felt much better than last time’s event, because the lower socioeconomic community seemed to really respect and value the garden. At least three or four passing people thanked us for our time and that made me feel like I was making more of a difference in an area that could really use the help. Doing manual labor was rewarding and fun. I liked learning about the farm and farming techniques, totally going to help inform me for my book. I plan to try coming back to this garden, offering more time and hopefully over digging up compost. Or at least bring some ratty clothes.

Side funny story, at one point one of the more adventurous chickens made it outside the farm perimeter. We had to chase it back in. Herding a sassy chicken across the road and back into the farm was possibly the funniest, most hilarious, giddy experiences I’ve ever had, involving a live chicken. You haven’t lived till you see grown adults fruitlessly trying to catch a determined fowl, strutting around like it owned the road, almost casually dodging its pursuers. 8/10.

Inside the Community Center

Inside the Community Center

Everyone's got their own cubby!

Everyone's got their own cubby!

Pay Dirt!

Clinton Hill Library Cleaning