Final Reflections
November 2024

To summarize 8 months of experience in 1500 words is wildly daunting. I’m reminded of the Mark Twain quote: “I didn’t have time to write a short letter, so I wrote a long one instead”. I’m searching for the eloquence or ability to summarize all I’ve learned or acknowledge everyone I’d like to thank, but if nothing else, I’d like to emphasize how deeply grateful I am, and how much admiration I have for the wonderful people I’ve gotten to know. 

As I reflect on the past 8 months, I am filled with a sense of awe over the opportunities I’ve been given, the people I’ve had the privilege of learning from, and the moments I never expected to be grateful for. Since I was a 4H and FFA-obsessed kid, I wanted a life of service in the pursuit of harmony between land, animals, and communities, studying vigorously and insisting on the all-encompassing nature of agriculture. While earning my degree in Environmental Studies, I was constantly seeking the ways in which I would address those wicked problems we learn of — tell me how to help, and I’ll do it. The New Agrarian Program was an answer to this call, providing me with a way to contribute to operations that were doing good, reversing the detrimental effects of our societal neglect. My perspective then was, in retrospect, largely based in a sense of self and individual responsibility. I have since been humbled in a way I’ve never experienced before, and have learned that this isn’t about me, or any one individual. It isn’t about what practices I’d like to impose on a landscape that I’m entirely new to based on what I’ve read or witnessed in other environments. I have been humbled by hours in the tractor, by the weight of a pivot tire, by the refusal of a wheel-line clamp to close, by the immense, incomprehensible beauty of sunrise on horseback. I will always remain passionate and curious about establishing the best relationship possible with ecosystems and communities, but I know how much I don’t know. My task during this apprenticeship was to embrace the role of student, and all the qualities that entails, and to witness. 

To greet the day, with all that unknown looming in the air, and bow to all that there is to learn, to all that there is to see and lend a hand with. There is a shortage of hands willing to execute the work necessary to move us towards a state of environmental, social, and physical well-being. To move out of the ethereal, intangible world of academic theorizing surrounding how we’d get ourselves out of this state and into a job that’s dependent on manual labor challenged me to derive meaning from each action I executed. It brought me a sense of peace I had lost in the chaos and confusion of “what to do” about global suffering. To surrender to the gradual, meandering state of progress, to recognize that we are flawed and always working to understand, to seek opportunities to express kindness and empathy. We can’t simply force or will ourselves into a healthier world. It’s like pounding post and getting stuck on a rock — you can’t will that rock into breaking. We pull that post, find a new spot, and try again, recognizing that no action is wasted if it makes us stronger, more resilient, more willing to try something different. We move forward, failures and triumphs comprising a beautiful mosaic of our progression towards a world more bright. 

I started the New Agrarian Program with expectations of increasing my knowledge of regenerative ranching, land stewardship, and the ways in which a reimagination of our food systems could positively impact all. I couldn’t have imagined how moved I would be by those I worked with, the beauty and dynamism of western landscapes, sharing in the trials and victories that accompany land-based work. I’m incredibly fortunate to have a mentor who has not only become a role model, but a dear friend. Sam has a fierce sense of independence and grit that allows her to be a force for good, tackling the day with confidence and persistence. My education furthered with every task Sam and I took on, as I got to share in her determination and dedication to a job well-done. Endlessly patient with my fumblings, Sam guided me into an understanding of our equipment, remaining calm and gentle, even when I, say, slam the arm of our sprayer into the side of a hill by taking on a pivot track too fast. I’ll miss laughing with her, even in moments of frustration, such as trying to fit a new boot on a pivot using a combination of Dawn dish soap, a cartoon-ish orange mallet, ratchet straps, and sheer stubborn force. Even then, suspended in the air with intense winds threatening our stability, cold cutting through our layers, we looked at each other and laughed at this infuriating, absurd, necessary task. 

This sense of joy was amplified when Laney, another farmhand, joined our team and brought her radiant love for agriculture and the natural world. We quickly bonded and took care of each other amidst the intensity of hay season, spending our days side-by-side as sisters. Laney was always there to support me during difficult learning curves, reassuring me that I’m not the only one who has cursed equipment or faced spiraling introspection after hours of silence in a tractor. And, Laney welcomed me into her story and her faith, expressing a fervent love for God that radiates, allowing her to reflect generosity and love in all she does. The bonds I formed with these women run deep and are a result of an immense amount of time spent together — with each seemingly menial task, we are not only moving towards a shared goal, but sharing the precious, irreplaceable moments of our lives with one another. In this way, our work becomes intimate, as our days and the company we share becomes who we are. Sam and Laney demonstrated to me, in countless scenarios, what it means to exhibit strength, grace, and perseverance. I’m truly grateful for their presence in my life. 

And then there’s the mountains, and the allure of the land out here. To set eyes on nature unencumbered by development, to fence and ride and work amongst magpies, sagebrush, sandhill cranes, ponderosa pines, moose. I feel a sense of connection with Emigrant Peak, as it stood unchanging through the seasons of work. It watched as we harrowed, planted, harvested, and prepared our fields for next season. In a ranching journal I kept, I wrote back in April, “Note: the mountains are always beautiful, always. Every morning, I am in awe of them, and throughout the day, I cannot believe that they stand before me as they do, such striking beauty, their angular peaks home to snowpack and pines and rocks that peer through the white blanket. Throughout all of this, the mountains witness, and I witness them back. They were here before I arrived, they will be here after I leave, they are a dependable constant, they are unmoved by my shifting emotions and dilemmas and triumphs. They stand, stoically, witnessing.” 

This beauty is kept and beloved by those who work closely with the land — it’s evident through their decision to pursue a challenging lifestyle in order to be in the presence of something as real as an uncontrollable environment. I want to continue to surround myself with agriculturalists, as they’re often the most passionate naturalists, and remain in close communion with natural cycles. They demonstrate a hyperlocal understanding of land that can only be established after years of relating to place. As we rode through countless acres of rangeland, pushing cows and navigating through terrain I didn’t realize you could take a horse through, I felt a part of this effort to remain in reciprocity with land, with a deep sense of fulfillment accompanying an exhausting day of work. 

I concluded my time here by helping with elk hunts we conduct on our property, aimed towards controlling elk populations and providing the community with access to nutritious, local meat. The October wind stings my face and I shove my hands in my pockets to retain heat, but I love it. I love seeing how expertly Sam stalks these animals, doing her best to ensure their quick and painless end, I love placing one foot in front of the other under the weight of an elk hindquarter and head in my pack, I love feeling like I’m participating in something great, primitive, real. A local hunter and I discuss the importance of connecting younger generations to the lessons learned through animal rearing and processing, and I’m glad to be in yet another conversation that feeds my passion for food sovereignty. I’m reminded of how many invaluable connections and conversations I’ve had with fellow apprentices, locals, ranchers, farmers, all brainstorming ways towards progress. I am so filled with hope. 

These final days in Paradise Valley are bittersweet. I can’t express how much I’ll miss it. I’ll carry it with me as I continue my agricultural pursuits and won’t be able to go long without visiting. A heartfelt thanks to everyone who helped shape this experience, I’m deeply grateful. I can’t wait to see what the future brings for the ranch, for Quivira, and for the other apprentices!

What contributes to a meaningful life and how do you hope this apprenticeship will help you explore that?
May 2024

The search for meaning through an examined life allows us to interpret what we encounter, gain an understanding of interconnectedness, and increase our receptivity to experience. Our unique definitions of meaning guide our lives, influencing everything from how we interact with one another to the profession we choose to pursue. When I envision a meaningful life, I see an emphasis on the inseparability of myself from my community, the environment, and the world, as I recognize the impact that an individual has on all else. A meaningful life allows me to contribute positively to those relationships, cultivating joy and exercising reciprocity. My hope is to know that I have addressed the urgent matters facing our planet as best as I can, even if in small, initially imperceivable ways. Working towards a more harmonious world, reducing suffering, and standing against harmful practices remain important to me. This apprenticeship provides an opportunity to practice the principles that would contribute to a meaningful life. I’m fascinated with food systems for countless reasons, one being that they involve universal, unavoidable aspects of our existence that touch environmental, social, and personal spheres. What we consume is directly related to our impact, and working to reimagine how we interact with this necessity of sustenance allows for the most challenging, complex problems to be addressed. Through agriculture, we determine what life will be supported in the future.

I’m hoping to interact with land in a way that promotes biodiversity and uplifts the wellbeing of all who depend on healthy environments – humans, animals, insects, plants, and microbes alike. I’m proud to work with an organization that is devoted to regenerating the land and healing the soil, broader ecosystems, and human/animal health. I’m inspired by the innovations that emerge from Quivira and want to utilize my energy to uplift these practices and increase their use through education and participation. I’m treating everything I encounter during this experience as my teacher, asking myself daily how I’m impacting the environment around me, both ecological and social. The state of agriculture is daunting, and often leaves us feeling hopeless and insignificant – a slippery slope towards apathy.

By unpacking and deriving meaning from all I encounter, I can determine how I’d like to conduct myself as a land manager and agriculturalist in the future. Furthermore, open-mindedness presents opportunities for discussions that could change the ways of conventional agriculture, encouraging a shift towards regenerative ag. Allowing space to witness how things are and dream of how things could be builds a life full of meaning, as one feels as though they’re engaged with their environment, devoted to a better way. Simultaneously, I feel we must remember to exercise empathy when we inevitably encounter varying perspectives and practices, finding the good and admiring positive qualities expressed.

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