Tension in the Mission II More Examples of Why Doing the Right Thing Requires Extra Commitment
Last week I wrote about the costs of planting cover crops, and the extra effort / late hours often entailed in “doing the right thing” for soil, for the environment. It got me to thinking about all the places where prioritizing soil and “whole farm” health costs Featherstone Farm financially and operationally. I consider spending these investments basic, standard operating procedure here at Featherstone Farm; I seldom if ever question their worth to the farm financially.
Of course we gladly make these extra commitments of time, management attention and money because of the “triple bottom line” mission statement that guides our work. Yes, there is some agricultural and even financial benefit to cover cropping. But it would be next to impossible to quantify. And it is certainly far less than the value of the labor, seed, fuel, time and energy that it takes to plant and grow a nice healthy stand of, say, rye and hairy vetch.
Here is a different example of tension between two legs of the mission statement stool: the idea that I have spent probably 70% of my time over the past several winters, doing voluntary upgrades to farmworker housing. And spent probably $60,000 on materials in the process, very little of which accrues to the FF balance sheet.
Why have I become a general contractor as well as a farmer? It’s a mission statement deal.
Featherstone Farm has employed members of an extended family from Guanajuato Mexico for over 20 years. 90% of these folks come here seasonally through the Federal H2-A visa program (we have 2 employees who have become naturalized citizens). These visas come with strict housing requirements; FF is responsible for providing housing for employees, that meets Federal standards (we are inspected every year).
We attempted to rent commercial housing for many years, in and around the town of Rushford. This proved unreliable and prohibitively expensive (no 6 month rents are available). So about a decade ago, the farm purchased a 5 unit apartment building in town. We bought what we could afford at the time… not very much! But this is a remarkable historic structure, originally a church, dating to perhaps 1880. Sometime in the 1950s, judging from materials I’m ripping out of there, the place was subdivided into 5 separate apartments. Disaster.
The framing, plumbing, electrical and HVAC work that was done at that time was as shoddy and disorganized and downright dangerous as a person could possibly imagine. Large supporting hand hewn timber posts were removed from the old church, where they didn’t suit the new apartment floor plans. Floor joists were cut through where remodelers wanted to place toilets and air ducts. Electrical connections… well, let’s just not go there!
Remarkably, these crazy “renovations” did NOT put the building out of commercial codes; the 5 units were actively rented (legally!) to the general public until we bought he place. And equally remarkably, they did not put the place off limits in the eyes of Federal inspectors, who certify the place every year for Visa compliance. They are interested in square footage of bedrooms, looking for window screens, checking that all basic appliances and services work. But floors as floppy as trampolines? No matter. Black mold in bathrooms? If there are sufficient screens, open the windows!
But for me and everyone at Featherstone Farm, there is a huge difference between legal and ethical. As an employer- particularly at a business with a Mission Statement committed to “making farmwork a safe, respected, and personally sustainable profession”- this situation was and is unacceptable.
But here’s the deal: not only is remodeling a ~140 year old “leaning apartment of Pisa” a huge, multi year deal, it is completely impossible to find contractors to manage such an effort. So, I strapped on my tool belt and stepped up.
I could spend 5 blog posts detailing the foundation work, the footings in the basement, the mountains of plaster and lathe hauled out by hand, the gutting of old plumbing. But I’ll spare you he ugly details. Rest assured, it’s been ugly!
But now that the entire structure has a new roof and siding, and the foundation stabilized, I’ve spent the past 3 winters renovating apartments themselves. ALL the old plumbing and 90% of the old wiring is now gone. We had a modern heat pump installed, which is providing adequate air conditioning for exhausted farmworkers at long last (AC is not a part of Federal DoL inspection). 3 of the 5 kitchens and 4 of the 5 bathrooms will be all new when employees come back this spring. Horray!!
And… my back is sore, my hands filled with the cuts and blisters and infected splinters that every builder complains about. More important, I’ve spent another winter working late nights in those apartments, on average once a week, to keep the renovations moving on a tight timeline (gals moved out of apartment #4 late January, new folks due back #3 below it in 2 weeks!!). The opportunity costs for my time in these apartments would be nearly impossible to calculate; what could I otherwise have accomplished at the farm or, more importantly, what’s the value of evenings with family, that I missed pouring footings in the basement??
Like cover cropping, renovating apartments certainly does have tangible benefits to FF’s bottom line financially. And there are huge risk management benefits to both as well. But these upsides are way less quantifiable- and certainly less $$- than the value of the time and money that we continue to invest in these projects. We do the work and spend the money- tens of thousands of dollars a year, directly off the farm’s financial bottom line- because of commitments we’ve made to people and to the environment, in our farm’s Mission Statement.
And once again, by supporting Featherstone Farm with your CSA membership, you too are supporting the environment and people of this small business, well beyond what many other businesses would dream of committing to.
Gratefully- Jack