From the Inside at Small Farmer’s Journal
by Shannon Berteau of Bend, OR
All I wanted was a farm to table dinner. They were becoming quite popular in other parts of the country, but no one had yet offered one in Central Oregon where I live. So, in the spring of 2010 my best foodie friend, Jen Levinson, and I began conspiring. We reasoned that we could probably host something at Fields Farm (the only working farm at the time within the city limits of Bend, OR) where I had volunteered in various capacities and had participated in their CSA. We also reasoned that we could probably get a local chef to cook for us, someone who already had it as part of their restaurant’s mission to develop relationships with farmers and buy as much produce and meat locally as possible. But, if you wanted people to buy tickets for an event, it had to be for a cause of some kind. There needed to be a beneficiary beyond myself and my imagination of the perfect meal, on a farm, with all of my favorite people, and all of my favorite foods around me.
Jim Fields, owner of Fields Farm, suggested Small Farms Conservancy, a new non-profit organization that was just starting up. He is a long time reader of Small Farmer’s Journal and he suggested we reach out to the Journal to find out if the Conservancy would be interested in being the beneficiary. We loved the idea of working with an actual farming organization instead of just any run of the mill good cause. So I called, and we drove to Sisters and met with Lynn Miller, AJ Ferris, and Kathy Blann. They were amazing and jumped right in to help plan the event with us. This was fabulous, because neither of us had ever thrown ANY KIND OF EVENT BEFORE. Remember, my goal was just to attend a farm to table dinner. Imagine all the work we had to do, simply to make that happen. Boy did we get the ball rolling. After hosting a second event the following summer other organizations began to host their own. Quickly they became prolific. Because they are amazing! I digress.
The dinner was wonderful. The Small Farmer’s Journal staff were so warm and responsible and fun. The best of partners, truly. The night was done and we all said goodbye and I was so very satisfied.
A few months later, Lynn reached out to see if I would be interested in doing some work for the Small Farms Conservancy. After a lovely interview, in which I immediately understood that Lynn was someone I wanted to work with and learn from, the journey began.
Working on the magazine together, at first with AJ and Kathy and Lynn, then just Lynn and AJ, and later Lynn and Eric, we bonded in ways unusual to my previous employment endeavors. The subject matter of the Journal is intrinsically tied to our survival as human beings on this planet. Through the endless conversations about which articles to use, how they should be presented and edited, hearing from the readership, by phone and by letter, we discussed our entire belief systems. While working at the Journal, I learned how to find and state clearly my values. I learned to seek out those who held them in common, and each day, we found joy in the celebration of life that is found in these pages. This publication is awe inspiring. I believe this to be true for its readership, and its creators. There isn’t a way to distinguish between those two actually – the readership are, in essence, its creators.
Which made the auction, held each spring, the physical manifestation of that reality. The auction was the pages of the journal come to life. The journal is there to teach and preach about certain lifestyle choices, but it is also to build community. That is its strength. And it was at the auction that the community, at least in our quadrant of this giant country, was built. All of these people that I read letters from and sent magazines and books to, that I read articles from, that I deposited checks from, that I heard stories over the phone from, would appear before me with dirt on their boots and pants and gloves and smiles on their faces. Auction week was the hardest I had ever worked in my life – twelve hour days, back to back to back – and some of the most fun I will ever have in my life. You are all good peeps! God, I miss those days. We have lost some good people, lost but not forgotten, never forgotten.
My favorite “in office” days at the Journal came later, when, for economy, we downsized. It was most fun to be three minds (Lynn and Eric and I) on top of each other, all vying for the others’ agreement for what was best for the journal. There was laughter and consternation, deep thinking and frivolity. So much coffee and donuts.
Over the years, Lynn slowly developed into a professor, a friend, a parent, a comedic sidekick, a trusted advisor, a confidant. He is the guru I never knew I wanted or needed. His spirit and his writing filled a part of my yearning for the world in a way I didn’t know was possible.
My previous professional experience was as a teacher. And that career again began to beckon. The stability and pay and engagement with young minds that drove me to pursue a degree in higher education still seemed like the right combination for me. It is a career I returned to with the same optimism and determination for the future that keeps Lynn publishing the journal year after year, and made me fall in love with it. I am in love with it still. Each publication is a mystery only unveiled by the turning of pages, the scanning and reading of each little pocket of text, each caption.
Congratulations to the Small Farmer’s Journal for achieving this momentous milestone: fifty years! My wish for the world is another fifty years. There is nothing we need more.
