无码视频

It started with a lawn sign war. It was 2000. I was 16, and sold on Ralph Nader, even though I couldn鈥檛 actually vote. I staked a Nader lawn sign in front of my parents鈥� house. It was quickly stashed in the garage. I put it out again. And again, back to the garage. Dad was rooting for Bush.

I never really felt like my politics fit in my family. There was my conversion to vegetarianism (the same as 鈥渃ommunism鈥� in Dad鈥檚 book), my stance against President Bush and the Iraq War, and my growing commitment to environmental work. Dad griped that I was becoming one of 鈥渢hose radical environmentalists.鈥�

So when my father called a few years ago to ask me about this whole organics thing, I was confused. He asked, did I buy organic? Where did I shop? I was a college student at the time, so the answers were 鈥淲hen I can afford to鈥� and 鈥淭he closest grocery store to campus.鈥�

I was sort of flattered that Dad thought of me as his de facto source of information about the young and eco-minded. Turns out he鈥檇 been reading in agricultural trade publications that organics were the next big thing. My father, though not always in tune with the latest on the environmental front, was ever a savvy businessman: He wanted in.

I鈥檝e always figured myself the political outsider in the family. After graduating, I moved to the city and took a job as an environmental reporter, and became a bike-riding, Whole Foods-shopping urbanite. I got as far away from the farm as possible. So at first it seemed almost an affront for Dad to be venturing into what I considered my rebellion.

My father, Thomas Sheppard, has been a farmer since he was old enough to wield a shovel. Actually, since before he was even born. The Sheppards came to what would become the United States from England in 1683, and promptly put down roots in Cumberland County, New Jersey. The first four Sheppard brothers arrived in the New World and started a subsistence farm about two miles from where my father and his brothers, Erwin and David, farm today in a town called Cedarville. My great-grandfather Gilbert procured the first tractor in Cedarville, a Case steam tractor, some time during the 1920s.

Today the Sheppard brothers farm 1,500 acres of lettuce, cucumbers, peppers, tomatoes, asparagus, and squash on one of the last vestiges of garden in the Garden State. And for my whole life鈥攁nd as long as my father can remember, too鈥攖hey鈥檝e grown everything 鈥渃onventional.鈥� Now, back when the first Sheppard brothers arrived, 鈥渃onventional鈥� probably meant horse-drawn plows and cow manure. But in our backward lexicon, it鈥檚 come to indicate the use of very unconventional methods: petrochemical fertilizers, diesel tractors, and genetically modified plants.

Given that the brothers, along with everyone in the country for the most part, have become accustomed to fossil-fuel and chemical-intensive methods of growing food, I was surprised that my father was willing to venture into organics. Dad鈥檚 a farmer, businessman, life-long Republican, and two-time Bush voter who drives one of those massive, gas-guzzling pickup trucks. In our town of 2,000, he鈥檚 a member of the three-person town council, and the three of them take turns being mayor. It鈥檚 his turn right now.

I鈥檝e always figured myself the political outsider in the family. After graduating, I moved to the city and took a job as an environmental reporter, and became a bike-riding, Whole Foods-shopping urbanite. I got as far away from the farm as possible. So at first it seemed almost an affront for Dad to be venturing into what I considered my rebellion. What do you want here, old man?

But a visit home a few years later tipped me off to the possibility that we might agree on more than I鈥檇 thought. A new shopping complex was being built a few towns over, one of those strip malls of big box stores and acres of parking. It was going up right where a farm had been when I was younger. I asked Dad about it, and we shared an eye roll. 鈥淭hey鈥檙e taking all this space in the country for these mega stores,鈥� said Dad. 鈥淲e鈥檙e going to have three Wal-Marts in Cumberland County. What the hell do we need three Wal-Marts for?鈥� Our county has less than 150,000 people. Not much to disagree with there. I didn鈥檛 expect to hear Dad espousing anti-corporate sentiment, and it felt good to have something to bond over.

It touched a deep nerve within me. Each time I go home, the suburbs of Philadelphia sprawl farther and farther into South Jersey, taking over land that was farms only months before. I can鈥檛 help but mourn the lost history and culture of rural America, even though I鈥檝e moved away. And imagine how Dad must feel. It鈥檚 not just history for him; it鈥檚 his livelihood. Dad says farmers in the area have been selling their land because of the congestion and development. 鈥淭here was so much traffic around they couldn鈥檛 get equipment up the road,鈥� he says.

Regardless of political affiliation, farmers remain the closest Americans to the earth. Though I write about these issues every day, I can鈥檛 really understand the impacts of today鈥檚 environmental problems like farmers do鈥攄ecreasing open space, sprawl, shifting weather patterns, droughts, floods, invasive species. These long-term hazards to humankind are much more immediate threats to the livelihood of folks like Dad, so caring about them isn鈥檛 as much a political issue as a matter of necessity.

But how often we 鈥渆nvironmentalists,鈥� and the political Left in general, forget this. How much we confine ourselves by writing off these folks as party-line Republicans.

In recent years, the realities of the agricultural economy have increasingly led Dad across the political line. There鈥檚 the increase in fuel costs: My family鈥檚 farm consumes 1,000 gallons of diesel every week during the growing season, guzzled by the tractors, combines, and tractor-trailers that haul the vegetables to grocery stores along the East Coast. And while the farm used to grow lettuce that would be sold locally, it now has to compete with giant farms on the other side of the continent, and other continents.

Organics give small farms like Dad鈥檚 a niche in the large chain grocery stores, and an 鈥渋n鈥� with rapidly expanding 鈥渘atural鈥� markets like Whole Foods. The strategy seems to be working鈥擨 spotted Sheppard Farms asparagus in a Whole Foods for the first time just a few weeks ago.

Of course, Dad and his brothers have had a lot to learn as they鈥檝e greened the farm. Classes in organics didn鈥檛 really exist when the three of them attended Cornell University鈥檚 agricultural program, one of the best in the country. Right now they have only 40 organic acres out of 1,500, and they鈥檙e trying to learn how to get better yields out of them, and how to expand. 鈥淭hey say as you get deeper into organics, you鈥檒l reap more benefits as the soil gets further away from the time that chemicals were used. It will have time to recover,鈥� says Dad. 鈥淭hat could be just urban legend. Er, rural legend.鈥�

The next big project he鈥檚 hoping to tackle is greening the farm鈥檚 energy supply. The farm is located along the Delaware Bay, and bay breezes lend great potential for wind energy. Dad hopes the wind turbines could be a source of income.

He鈥檚 also considering investing in solar panels, which could bring the farm鈥檚 energy costs down from 16 to 10 cents per kilowatt-hour right away. He鈥檚 even thinking about lobbying to get the town to go solar.

鈥淲e could put solar panels on the new firehouse,鈥� says Dad, 鈥渃hange those natural gas heaters to electric heaters and produce our own. That might be the more economical and more environmentally friendly thing to do.鈥� I never expected to hear the phrase 鈥渆nvironmentally friendly鈥� coming out of Dad鈥檚 mouth.

But Congress keeps stalling on an extension of the tax credits for renewable energy, which are set to expire at the end of the year, and the lack of market assurance right now has put the solar industry in a holding pattern. I cover this action day-to-day on the Hill, so Dad called recently to find out how his representative, Frank LoBiondo, had voted on the extensions.

I assumed, based on party affiliation alone, that he鈥檇 voted against them. I was wrong. I guess that shows my own political biases. Dad said he鈥檇 call anyway, just to make sure LoBiondo knew how important these extensions are. It was the first time I鈥檇 heard Dad talk about calling his legislator about an environmental issue, so I was pumped. Isn鈥檛 this what I spend my life working on鈥攇iving citizens the information they need to push for political reforms?

Tough economic times have made him more politically active in other areas as well. New Jersey has been in dire financial straits for quite a while, and this winter, the governor proposed total elimination of the state鈥檚 Department of Agriculture. That, of course, angered my father and the other remaining vestiges of the agricultural community in the state. Dad bussed to the capitol to protest. Other farmers brought goats and tractors, creating quite a scene in Trenton. Considering he鈥檚 made fun of me for protesting the Iraq War, it was funny to see Dad on his first political march. And the farmers won: The governor backed off the proposal.

The farming experience has made him break from the party line in other areas as well鈥攍ike immigration. Dad says the country鈥檚 immigration policies are both mistreating immigrants and imperiling the domestic agricultural sector. He understands this, since the farm relies heavily on immigrant workers, mostly from Mexico.

鈥淭he Sheppards never had any green cards,鈥� he adds. In Dad鈥檚 book, if the first Sheppards rolled off the boat without permission to be here, who are we to tell others they don鈥檛 have the same right? Many of the men and women Dad hires were farmers back home in Mexico, too, but hard economic times forced them to come to the U.S. A few years ago, Dad even went to visit a village in Mexico that a lot of his workers call home, wanting to see where these folks are from.

I told him recently that I think he鈥檚 slowly becoming a liberal, whether he likes it or not.

鈥淚 think it鈥檚 more being a fiscal conservative,鈥� Dad said. 鈥淚 would say I鈥檓 a fiscal conservative and socially liberal.鈥�

I asked him whether he鈥檇 vote for Bush a third time.

鈥淥h, hell no,鈥� he retorted.

鈥淒ad, how鈥檇 I come out a liberal?鈥� I asked.

鈥淚 was more liberal when I was your age,鈥� he said.

I might argue that he鈥檚 migrating back that direction, from a Bush-hugger to a treehugger. But in recent years I鈥檝e realized that a lot of my beliefs aren鈥檛 in spite of where and how I grew up鈥攖hey鈥檙e because of it. I care about the land because it鈥檚 from the land that my family makes a living. I care about food sources and security because I never had to think twice about where mine came from growing up鈥擨 could just walk out back and pick a tomato or a pepper. I care about open space and clean water and air because I can鈥檛 imagine a childhood without them.

And so does Dad. Even if we may never agree on a lawn sign.