July Baldwin, family farmer, Big Valley Farm

My second Bedlam Farm Diary (Vol. 2) is a labor of love. It is 6:21 minutes long, and I just couldn’t cut it any more. I spent much of the week shooting and editing it and figuring out the camera and the sun. But last night at midnight, when I finished, I saw that I was  happy with it. It marks an evolution for me in my story-telling. I can tell you all I want about the family farm, soon to vanish in America I am told, but it is better if I can show you and you can make up your own mind about it.

It’s curious. The writer never really knows why he or she is drawn to a subject so powerfully. All the elements are there for sure – family, courage, dedication, animals, nature, history, symbolism, change,  and faith. I’m interested in them all.

A few years ago, I wandered into a big barn to catch the sunlight and ran into an elderly farmer sobbing. He had just sold his cows and was ceasing operations after 64 years. He said he could no longer compete with the big corporate farms. His cows, he said, would never graze on pasture again, but spend their lives on concrete floors. He let me into his life and that of the embattled family farmer and I have not left since, taking photos, visiting, and now, taking moving images. I think they give some of the feel for the tough life of the family farmer and I hope they will stir some feelings about the collapse of family farming in America, a country that will go to any lengths to save banks and insurance companies, but wars against teachers, librarians and family farms. I am not political, but I do believe that the corporatizing of life – the Wal-Marting of America is not good for work, life, family or indviduality. When family farmers can’t figure out how to live, something is broken. Something is lost.

I want to bear witness to the struggle of family farms, even though I gather it is no longer economically feasible for them to compete with corporatism, which is degrading farming as it has work, health care, the law, politics and the economy. Farms speak to me of family, individuality and a way of life. They will be missed if they all, in fact, go. I thank the Rouse family for letting me into their lives and putting up with my cameras, my questions and my intrusive presence. As I suspect is clear, we are getting fond of one another. Still, they are not used to being public and they handle it with grace, honesty and love. I am honored to know them, and I hope they hang on.

So here is the video, and I hope it touches you as it has touched me. Next week, Bedlam Farm Diary will focus on the farm, maybe the dogs or the barn cats. Or the sheep who are shortly returning for the summer. Lucky Rose.