Growing up near farms and knowing farmers I thought that farms and the animals on them, even if they were raised for food, lead happy lives.
Then off course I realized that the American way of pushing quality down, prices down and always hunger for more profits – by higher quantities of purchases and wider market adoption had destroyed not only traditional towns, family bonds – but also agricultural construction. The movie Food Inc showcases this fact so clearly, and the scene of a mother loosing her 5 year old son in a horrid way to expired cow meat – a hamburger, is a gruesome thing to witness.
Off course no one cares for an animal or a person, if those animals and people are working inside a factory farm of dark walls and concrete instead of on a green meadow. For centuries the art of raising crops or animals to feed people were a job of great honor in society, even though it wasn’t very glamorous, and it sad to see the great country of America destroy this tradition.
USA needs to break down its industrial agriculture and bring back the family farms. America also need to bring back its industries from abroad, and Americans must agree to pay a bit more for their product in order to sustain its own workforce. This will also ensure products of greater quality which can withstand the tooth of time and ensure a more environmentally friendly approach to consumerism.
Buy local, buy organic and ask your family farmer for a custom delivery of grass fed grass fished meat delivery to support their hard work.
Growing up in a small town shapes you. My grandparents had a picture on their wall – from a trip visiting relatives in Minnesota – that said: “In a big city there is lots to see. In a small town there is lots to hear“. It kind of sums up my childhood.
This aspect of growing up in the countryside made and broke me: Everyone knew everyone and what they were up to. As a target for bullies and popularity alike I changed between being the object of love and hate, and the outcome was not always pretty. Mostly it made me determined to leave and ‘show them’. That I could become something. Other than this person who’s reputation preceded them.
So I did. I left my small town in Norway, did my degrees in England and Australia, before working in corporate America and starting a life as a wife and mother. Coming to the United States seemed like the perfect final destination. Growing up I watched the endless lights of Hollywood movies, and thought America is where people could be themselves and make a new life. The kind of life I craved.
But America is nothing like the movies. Sure there are the accents, the big signs and buildings, but the movies don’t show you the endless poverty people suffer under, the racism, sexism, the horrendous animal agriculture and all the pollution that follows. It doesn’t show you that Native Americans are still waiting for an apology for the genocide they experienced.
So I chased a dream to the end of the line. And now I miss my old town. I miss the connection with the people that sometimes is lacking in the big city. I miss the fresh air and some honesty. Even the kind that hurts you. Because sometimes the only way to grow is to feel the pain as you stretch.