Twenty-one months ago I wrote a piece for the Monroe Times drawing on my experience of finding my place in the agricultural community of south-central Wisconsin. At the time, I was fresh out of college, fueled by my passion for food justice and environmentalism. I had recently moved to Hollandale, Wisconsin to pursue a lifetime of regenerative agriculture and organic food production. With a lack of direct farm experience, I sought work and guidance from people spearheading community driven food production and distribution within my newfound home. Many of the people that I have since connected with for resources and support have come from the vibrant community of Soil Sisters. This community provided invaluable resources and contacts for growth, and has provided me with the strength and confidence to build a farm that represents my values for environmentalism and food sovereignty wholeheartedly. 

My farm is named after my beloved dog, Wonka, and was started in July of 2020. Wonka’s Harvest is a no-till farm that practices organic production 365 days of the year. We grow over 130 varieties of vegetables and herbs, raise pigs, beekeep, cultivate mushrooms, host educational tours and events. In two short years, we built a successful pay-what-you-can CSA, started vending at the Dane County Farmers’ Market and the Mount Horeb Farmers’ Markets weekly, built relations to sell our product to local restaurants and grocery stores, and have customers in the greater Milwaukee and Chicago area. This success is in large part to the connections made with the businesspeople, educators, politicians, farmers, mothers, conservationists, scientists, artists, community supporters, and humbled citizens that make up Soil Sisters. 

For many farmers, February is an unsettling time where the reflection from the previous growing season is bridged with the anxiety and excitement for the season ahead. We can plan, organize, restructure, and implement system improvements, but our work is largely at a stand still until warmer temperatures and longer daylight hours arrive. This period does, however, provide time and space to reflect on hard transitions and important accomplishments, the ways we want to see our lands and farms evolve, and the driving forces that motivate and inspire us to continue doing what we do. 

I was fortunate this year to experience this seasonal reflection and quandary while driving across the country. Unintentionally, yet unsurprisingly, I stumbled upon some profound realizations of our national food system. A cross country road trip will always shower you with gratitude and introspection for the diversity of landscapes and cultures that seem to blend effortlessly with each mile that passes. This road trip seemed especially enlightening being a person that connects culture to food and flavor, and with my growing consciousness between the relationships with landscape, land use, climate, and agriculture.

Mile after mile, I saw bare soil damaged by excess tillage and unprotected from erosion as I drove from Wisconsin through Iowa, and into Missouri. My eyes would light up when I would see the occasional field that was covered by winter rye, preserving and improving organic matter and biological life. As I drove across Kansas, Oklahoma, and into Texas, the stench from nearby Concentrated Animal Feeding Operations, or CAFOs, flooded the car. These facilities mark the idealism of modern commercial agriculture with the economic principle of scale. The spatial patterns of large, specialized agricultural operations dominated my perceptions of these socioeconomic spaces, especially relating to the cost of land, water availability, and the economic and political power residents and food workers have. 

I drove through thousands of acres of pecan production in New Mexico, fields of green lettuce in the desert plains of Arizona, across the strained Colorado River, and into the state of California that is dominated by fruit and nut plantations. Again, I was struck by the apparent economic need to specialize in only one or two agricultural commodities. I saw vulnerable ecological and economic environments, where profits drive land use at the expense of long term sustainability. 

I returned to this journey of food production that I have traveled on, not only in my road trip across the country, but the journey within myself and the relationships I have built over the last few years. I thought about the people that helped me foster a greater passion for just food production, including equitable farm labor, economic autonomy for rural communities, and local and affordable food distribution. These people are to credit for the introspection I have for the food systems I interact with everyday, whether I am grocery shopping or traveling across the country. 

It is easy to lose sight of why you do what you do when your career is as physically, emotionally, and financially taxing as it is. But what I continue returning to is the pride and privilege I have for growing food here in Wisconsin. I am gifted with the ability to grow food in rich soil, sustained by my farm’s organic and no-till commitment. I am fortunate to grow food for a community of people that largely support a mission of food accessibility, and participate in a pay-what-you-can system responsibly. I am lucky to work with chefs, institutions, and food service workers that see the benefits of eating seasonally and locally, which help pave the way for larger shifts in cultural habits of food consumption. I interact with people and families that commit to showing up at every farmers’ market to support small-scale, regenerative farmers committing to the conservation of water and soil. And most importantly, I get to share my experiences and vulnerabilities with fellow farmers that support and validate my work. 

As difficult and trying as farming is, it is the most kinetic and grounding life choice I could have ever made. I wouldn’t want to be growing food and sharing the fruits of my labor and love anywhere else. Home is here, amongst the people and flavors of Wisconsin and alongside my fellow farmers committed to feeding our future. 

— Patty Grimmer is the owner and operator of Wonka’s Harvest, a no-till vegetable farm in Hollandale, Wisconsin. Patty serves her surrounding communities by providing fresh, organic, and nutrient rich foods equitably with her pay-what-you-can CSA, via farmers’ markets, to restaurants, and now to grocery stores. Soil Sisters, a program of Renewing the Countryside, connects and champions women in the Green County area committed to sustainable and organic agriculture, land stewardship, local food, family farms and healthy and economically vibrant rural communities.