Illinois Farm Families Blog

Apr 11

The Organic Health Halo: It's Real, People

Cornell researchers find that consumers believe organic food has fewer calories and are willing to pay nearly 25% more for it. Lesson: read the label. A new study from Cornell University floated through my social media field yesterday.

Basically, a group of researchers from Cornell's Food and Brand Lab wanted to know if the "health halo" effect of organic food could lead to real bias. Previous studies have shown that the organic label can lead consumers to think a product is healthier, but this group wanted to know if it went further than that.

Turns out, it does.

In short, they offered up a pair of cookies, yogurt and potato chips to shoppers. All of the product pairs were produced organically, but they labeled one of each as "organic" and "regular." Then they offered them up to consumers to taste and rate.

"Even though these foods were all the same, the “organic” label greatly influenced people’s perceptions," they reported. In fact, consumers estimated the organic cookies and yogurt to have significantly fewer calories. And - AND - they were will to pay up to 23.4% more for them.

People also believed the "organic" cookies and yogurt tasted lower in fat than the "regular" variety. Even "organic" chips and yogurt were deemed to be more appetizing and flavorful.

A very large part of me wants to say, really? Really, people? And yet, I know we can convince ourselves of all sorts of nutritional shenanigans. Remember the Snackwells cookies of the mid-'90s? My fellow college freshmen and I were pretty sure those were our diet silver bullet, mostly because they said "fat-free" on the label. Never mind that they had enough sugar to choke a horse. They were fat free! And that was my first lesson in reading labels. Because, shocker, I didn't lose weight by eating Snackwell cookies. I just ate a lot of bad cookies.

But if you read a label - and know what organic means - then you have a much better chance of avoiding the health halo. You can be an informed consumer. You can know that organic doesn't really mean more nutritious; you can make the decision to either buy organic or conventional food because you know the organic label is simply a description of how the food was raised, not the nutritional content. You can make decisions based on scientific analysis (and nutritional labels) as opposed to marketing labels like, "healthy", "nutritious" and my all-time favorite, "natural."

This, of course, transfers the responsibility to the individual. That's not always welcome in our society. But there's a lot of power in that responsibility. And that includes being able to make a conscious decision about nutritional value. And health.

In the end, it's up to us to read labels, pay attention and understand what terms like organic really mean (and don't mean).

Holly Spangler

Nov 06

30 Days on a Prairie Farm: Biotechnology

Day 2: Why we plant genetically modified seeds on our farm. Part 1.

Fear. Misinformation. Marketing. Fear. Health. Children. Fear. Fear.

All this and more is playing into the discussion involving GMOs these days. And here on the farm, it feels like old news. Fifteen-plus years ago, we evaluated the technology, learned we could plant it and use fewer and less-potent pesticides, have fewer weeds and less required labor. It was a business decision. We got on board. We've gone on to plant Bt corn (using products from DuPont, Syngenta and Monsanto), LibertyLink corn (a Bayer product), RoundupReady corn and beans (using Monsanto and Syngenta products), rootworm-resistant corn (both Monsanto and DuPont products).

But off the farm, in parts further west, let's say, people are downright angry. California's Proposition 37 is being sold as people's "right to know" what's in their food. And if you'd like a logical look at both sides of the argument, check out this point-counterpoint blog.

On its face, I would agree with the right to know. Yet common sense might suggest that given 95% of the U.S. corn crop is planted to biotech seed, you can safely assume any food not labeled organic or GM-free has a product in it that's derived from biotech seed. And further, consider the extensive exemptions being offered even under the "Right to Know" Proposition 37. Even with Prop 37, I'm not sure California consumers will know as much as they want to.

But I digress.

I think much of the problem here is that people just don't understand each other. We sit here in the Midwest and think how those poor consumers just don't know what we do and if they only understood how nice we all are and how much we love our farms and our families, they'd leave us alone and let us carry on with our business. And from what I hear, they sit in their cities and on their coasts and think we farmers are a bunch of poor, overall-wearing saps who are beholden to Monsanto and the rest of Big Agribusiness.

So, here's what I think we need to understand in farm country:

*  Consumers are concerned about the long-term health effects of biotechnology. They're looking at down-the-road diseases like cancer, heart disease, obesity, the "unknown."

*  Saying we produce the safest, most abundant food supply in the world doesn't resonate with consumers. When you say safe, they hear short-term safety (which they expect anyway) and when you say abundant, they hear too much food (which is making us obese).

*  They want transparency. This is one of many reasons why I love this blog. He offers up all the details. In PDF form, no less.

* We need to be less about "telling our story," and more about answering their questions.

What would I like them to know? In the interest of the final point above, I would respond to their questions. And I think immediately of an ongoing conversation I've been having with a California friend-of-a-friend. She could not be nicer and more convinced of her opinions, and I respect that. I really do. But in talking with her, I can see some of her underlying information about how corn is grown is just, well, incorrect.

I don't want to quote her directly here without her permission, but to paraphrase, she believes Monsanto has a monopoly on the seed market, that it sends investigators to farms to see if seeds have blown over into another farmer's field, and then they sue those farmers. She also thinks farmers can't afford non-GMO or non-Monsanto seed, or even alfalfa because Monsanto has a monopoly.

I have to reiterate, she is not alone in thinking this, which is why I'm sharing it. From what I have seen, these are commonly held assumptions. Perhaps that means there's an organization sharing this kind of misinformation among California consumers. I don't know.

But here's what I do know:

*  Monsanto does not have a monopoly on the seed market. Among the many companies we buy seed from is Golden Harvest, which is owned by Syngenta. Syngenta is one of five companies who have patented genetically modified seed traits. Monsanto is not the only one. They do have a lot of market share, but there are still other options. We plant a wide variety of seed on our farm, including from small, family-owned seed companies.

*  Seeds don't blow from one farm to another. Seeds are planted in the ground, where they sprout and grow into plants. Corn plants produce a tassel that's laden with pollen. The pollen falls from the tassel and lands on the silks that sprout from the top of each ear of corn. Each silk goes to a single kernel on the ear. Now pollen? Pollen can blow from one field to another. Generally, farmers try to work together and if their neighbor is planting non-GM, they try to plant in a way that reduces pollen drift.

*  About 15 cases have worked their way through the court system, regarding Monsanto suing farmers. Really, I've never heard of a farmer being sued because pollen drifted into their field and Monsanto wants them to pay for it. It's actually more the other way around. You can read here or here about a Canadian farmer and his odyssey through the Canadian court system with Monsanto. In short, he knew (or ought to have known) he had saved and planted Roundup Ready seed back in 2001, violating the agreement he had signed. He appealed in 2002 and all 17 grounds were dismissed by a three-member court. He appealed to the Canadian Supreme Court in 2004 and lost again.

*  Non-GM seed costs less than GM seed. In the farm world, we talk about traited and non-traited varieties, and when you're talking traits (like rootworm or roundup or corn borer resistence), you're talking more money. This makes sense. If there is extra technology in that seed which allows us to, say, use less weed control products, or helps the plant grow better in a drought, or lets us use less insect control products, we should pay for it. Again, it's good business sense. It's an added value, and that value adds to the cost.

*  Monsanto has a very small share of the alfalfa seed market. I don't know what else to say about that. It just does.

I don't know that this will sway someone who is a die-hard supporter of Prop 37, or who considers GM foods to be poisoned. Maybe they can make a more well-informed decision, even if they vote for Prop 37.

I don't know that this will make a difference. But I have to believe it helps, if only to make a better informed decision.

**A note: I had the crazy idea that I could cover biotechnology in one post. Silliness. Look for another post on biotechnology and the research surrounding it.
Holly Spangler
Marietta, Illinois

Holly Spangler is a farmwife to John, mother to three little farm kids and farm writer for Prairie Farmer, all from their farmstead in western Illinois. You can follow her blog, My Generation

This post, used with permission, was first published on November 2, 2012: http://farmprogress.com/prairie-farmer/blogs.aspx/30-days-prairie-farm-biotechnology-3779
Oct 31

GMOs, Dr. OZ and Real Scientists

University of Illinois food scientists sheds light on motives and process in producing a Dr. Oz show on GMOs. No surprise, large agendas at play.

Here's what I like to see: straightforward conversations about food and technology. No backroom deals. No agendas. No one side negotiating for more airtime, or re-recording a statement so no one can contradict them. A look at real science by real scientists.
And certainly, I haven't watched daytime TV since, well, I can't remember when. But I have read enough of Dr. Oz to know neither I, nor anyone else, can logically expect to get sound diet or medical advice from him. And as an aside, who wears scrubs all the time?  

And then I came across this: a letter from Dr. Bruce Chassy to the producers of Dr. Oz's show, written in response to their efforts to have him appear on a Dr. Oz show about GMOs and food production. Chassy is a professor emeritus of food science at the University of Illinois. When I was on campus, he was head of the Department of Food Science and Human Nutrition, and later became Assistant Dean for Science Communications. This is all to say, he knows his stuff and he's been around the block a time or two. Reading the letter, it's clear he had grave misgivings about their ability to produce an unbiased show. As it turns out, the show is set to air just before the election, and (not coincidentally) just before California votes on Proposition 37, which would require labeling of any GM product.

Give the letter a read. My favorite line from Dr. Chassy: "Your assurances and the tactics of the Dr. Oz show fall short of even the lowest standards of media and medical ethics." Zing.

And a further aside: it all makes me wonder what sort of back room deals Wayne Pacelle struck with Oprah to keep real hog producers like Matt Kellogg from having an open mic during her animal welfare show. It's tough to think that even the scientists and the farmers can't get a fair shake on some of these shows. But that's another blog for another day.

Holly Spangler
Marietta, Illinois

Holly Spangler is a farmwife to John, mother to three little farm kids and farm writer for Prairie Farmer, all from their farmstead in western Illinois. You can follow her blog, My Generation. 

This post, used with permission, was first published on October 19, 2012: http://farmprogress.com/prairie-farmer/blogs.aspx/gmos-dr-oz-real-scientists-3725


Oct 03

Bruising start, triumphant end

IT finally happened this year. Our daughter, Jenna, became old enough for 4-H. Old enough to show cattle. Considering my husband and I have talked about showing cattle with children who didn’t yet exist since pretty much the day we met, it’s a fair understatement to say we were excited.

 And yet, so little in life goes as planned.

The cattle had been led and groomed, the boots bought, the bling chosen. And you know how you read those glowing stories with sun-kissed photos and reports of perseverance and hard work paying off?  Well, this isn’t one of them.

The day started off well. Seven-year-old Nathan showed his little bottle calf, Buddy. It was as adorable as you might expect a ring full of little kids and little calves to be. Judge Dick Burns told them, “You all are some of the very few kids in the entire world who get to have this kind of an experience.” Amen.

Then Jenna showed her heifer, Granite. Granite is a reasonably laid-back Simmental-Angus cross. We’ve worked with her endlessly. But for some reason that day, the Angus in her (and I say that as a die-hard Shorthorn girl who did not get her way in the heifer selection department) became fully apparent. She wasn’t exactly easy to show. Burns even said as much and complimented Jenna on doing a good job with her.

On to the steer show. Jenna took Gus into the ring. Somewhere on the first lap, he stepped square on her right boot. She wanted to cry, but didn’t.  I had my eye on the steer next to her.  He was acting ornery and was being shown by another first-timer.

Sure enough, as they pulled up after being placed, that steer tried to mount Gus. In the cluster that ensued, the steer kicked Jenna in the side as he mounted Gus, and for a fleeting but ever-lastingly long second, I thought the two steers were going to tumble on top of her. There’s a fair chance my nephew still has finger marks on his arm because he had the unfortunate luck of standing next to me during all of this.

Jenna was crying but OK, and I wound up being that mom who escorts her poor injured child out of the ring. We iced her foot and checked out the hoof-sized bruise that was already forming on her side. But through her tears, she insisted, “I still (sob) want (sob) to do (sob) showmanship!”

I’ve hardly been so proud.

And so she did. And then the heifer stepped on the same foot as the steer did. She couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. She was done. And so were we. The show was over. Done.

County fair-bound
Fast-forward two more shows — to the county fair. Jenna showed like a champ. She took home a plaque for champion Simmental heifer. Her animals behaved. She was thrilled. Best of all: She won the Sunrise Showmanship contest for first-year showmen. It’s a big deal in our county; even her dad competed in it. 

Now, I’ve hardly been so proud.

Jenna worked hard. She had tough competition, and as judge Adam Dryer pointed out, these kids will be fighting it out in showmanship for the rest of their showing careers. She knew everything there was to know about her calf, and told Dryer most of it — until he finally cut her off, laughing. Most of all, she had the look of a kid who wanted to win. She had an animal to show off, and she wanted the judge to take a look. That’s what it takes to win.

There’s a certain walk to a kid who’s done well and knows it. She has a jaunty step. She holds her head up. She smiles. Big. She says “thank you” a lot, as people who’ve never spoken to her stop and offer congratulations.

She left the ring with her head held high. No tears. No disappointments, no regrets, no bruises. This was our Jenna at the county fair.

This is why we do this. 

Holly Spangler
Marietta, Illinois


Used with permission from Prairie Farmer. This story first appeared in September 2012, page 16.    To see this story, go to:     http://magissues.farmprogress.com/PRA/PF09Sep12/pra016.pdf

Sep 05

Of Organic Food and Measured Risk

So, you may have heard: Stanford University released a study yesterday that shows organic produce is no more nutritious than conventional produce. Farm Progress reported on it here, too.

The knee-jerk reaction among conventional agriculture has been – and will continue to be, I suspect – a hearty "we told you so." And I'd be lying if I said that didn't cross my mind, too, along with a sarcastic comment or two…"shut the front door! Organic isn't any better? Wait, didn't we say that already?"


 

I've written for years about the rise of organic agriculture – today, it's a $27 billion business in the U.S. I've also written about the need for choice, and the simultaneous need for consumers to be informed about that choice and not swayed by savvy marketing.

Yet, there's a vast segment of the population that is swayed by marketing. And by Internet fear mongering. And, simply, by misinformation by people hocking a product, as seen here.

Sometimes, those folks work in the grocery store, as seen here.

Sometimes, they show up on Facebook with bugs in their broccoli, as seen here.

The takeaway in the study is this: the Stanford researchers conducted the study to offer definitive analysis of the health benefits of organic produce. In their own words, they expected organic to be more nutritious and were surprised when it wasn't.

Dr. Dena Bravata, the senior author of the paper, to the New York Times: “When we began this project, we thought that there would likely be some findings that would support the superiority of organics over conventional food. I think we were definitely surprised.”

Bravata and her team did find detectable pesticide residue on a third of the conventional produce, and on 7% of the organic produce. Of course, organic enthusiasts will say that's why they buy organic: to avoid pesticide residues. But the Stanford researchers say virtually none of the residues they discovered were above the allowable limits set by the Environmental Protection Agency.

Certainly, you can question whether those limits are stringent enough. And many people do.

But you can also wash your food.

And you can think about measured risk.

Here's my take: I am for choice. And I am for recognizing that life is a series of measured risks.

I choose to accept, for example, that when I get in my car and drive down the road, there's a chance I will get in an accident and die. Not much of a chance, but a chance.

I choose to accept that when I take my kids to the park, there's a chance one of them could fall and land wrong and break an arm. Not much of a chance, but a chance.

I choose to accept that when I had my babies, there's a chance I could have died – and I say this as someone whose best friend died in childbirth. So I know it's possible. I know there's a chance. But not much of a chance.

And I choose to accept there are traces of pesticide on many kinds of produce. I know I can wash them away – and do – and I know the Stanford study confirmed what others have found: virtually all detectable traces were below EPA's allowable threshold.

I very much support choice, which means if you want to take an absolute zero tolerance approach to residues, you should be able to do so. You should also be willing to pay for it.

But I wonder. What would your life look like if you made all your choices with the same zero tolerance approach? Would you drive? Would you go to the park? Would you cross the street? Would you have even had your children in the first place?

Life is a series of measured risks. And for the organic enthusiast who's willing to pay for less risk – even for risk that's only a minor degree lower – it may well be worth it. But the Stanford study confirms for me what I already knew: we have a safe food supply that, minus the hype, is just as nutritious as what the best money can buy.

And with that, I'm gonna go eat an apple.

Holly Spangler
Marietta, Illinois

Holly Spangler is farmwife to John, mother to three little farm kids, and farm writer for Prairie Farmer, all from their farmstead in western Illinois. You can follow her blog here.

Apr 26

BSE: Here's What We Know

Nine years ago, when BSE first appeared on U.S. soil, I wrote in my column for Prairie Farmer how the timing was really quite horrific for us. My husband recalls sitting on the couch, watching the news when the story broke on Christmas Eve. We were to sell our entire calf crop three weeks later and as he so colorfully recalls, "I thought I was going to throw up." The fear, of course, was the outbreak would spark food safety fears, ravage markets, slam exports and bring the reality of horrible prices all the way back to rural Illinois, where we would then get very little for our calf crop at the Fairview Sale Barn. An entire year's worth of work, down the tubes. Money, gone. Income, gone.

 Indeed, over the next several days, "mad cow disease" dominated the airwaves. Cattle markets closed limit down every day – meaning, they dropped as far as they could until an artificial floor stopped them. This is very bad if you are a cattle producer, about to sell your crop. But miracle of all miracles, by the time our calves sold some three weeks later, the markets recovered. We sold calves at pre-scare price levels. Whew.

 This is, of course, the scenario that came to mind yesterday as news of the most recent BSE outbreak spread. It feels different this time, though. We seem a little more educated, a little more reasonable.

 I have noticed in the past 24-48 hours, the news cycle has been remarkably even and unbiased. News reports have stuck to the facts, quoting USDA officials, epidemiologists and food safety experts. As a journalist, little makes me more frustrated with my reporting brethren than a sensationalized news report (pink slime, anyone?!). And as a farmer, little makes me more disappointed in our society and their reaction to the food supply than a sensationalized news report.

 But I digress.

 I think there is much we can keep in mind here, including some really heartening facts:

 1.  A single dairy cow in California was discovered by a renderer to have an "atypical" presentation of BSE on Tuesday, April 24.

2.  This atypical presentation does not occur in animals that have been fed bone meal from infected animals. The practice of feeding bone meal was banned in 1997 with the full support of cattle producers, and in 2011 there were only 20 worldwide cases of BSE – a 99% reduction since the peak in 1992 of 37,311 cases. Essentially, the government and the industry took steps to control the disease before it became a real problem in the United States. This is good news. 

3.  The carcass never entered the food chain. It didn't even come close. The carcass was routinely tested at a renderer and discovered to be positive for BSE. Officials were immediately notified, and the carcass will be further tested and then destroyed.

4.  BSE is not transmitted through milk, says USDA Chief Veterinarian John Clifford.

5.  The system worked! If there's one thing we can take away from this entire situation, it's that the testing systems we have in place to protect our food supply worked. Amen and hallelujah.

So what does it all mean on our farm tonight? We will continue on with our normal veterinary care, and – I'm not gonna lie - we will rejoice that we don't have calves to sell in three weeks. Livestock marketing experts predict that markets will recover, but we can still be grateful to not have that kind of stress. We've got enough to worry about right now, what with planting a corn crop and all.

 But most importantly, we'll have steak tonight. And we'll drink a glass of milk. And we'll give thanks that we are part of the safest and most abundant food supply chain in the world.

 You should, too.

Holly Spangler
Marietta, Illinois

 

Oct 19

To the Farm: A Saturday on the farm with eight moms from Chicago? Priceless.

Field Moms fall farm tourI awoke Saturday morning at 4:10 a.m. Bright eyed. Awake. Not excited to be awake. But excited about the day ahead.

(Contrary to popular belief, not all farm people are automatically morning people. 4:10 a.m. is a ridiculous hour of the day. Amen.)

By 5:15 a.m., I was pulling out of the drive and pointing the car north. Northbound to Maple Park and the Mike and Lynn Martz farm, where the very first group of Field Moms would soon be gathering. Chosen by the Illinois Farm Families among scores of Chicago moms and bloggers, the Field Moms were making their first trip to the farm, accompanied by Roseville farmwife Deb Moore. I tagged along as both a member of the media and a farmwife myself.

Of the 10 Field Moms, 7 were able to attend – a number that's not surprising given the number of small children and potential for sickness, family obligations and more. One extra Chicago mom and blogger, Emily Paster, also attended.

Saturday, if you'll recall, was incredibly windy in the northern half of the state so we started off our day inside, where Mike and Lynn Martz shared how they got their farming start. Let me just say, for the record, they operate one very impressive farm. Mike manages the cattle feeding operation (with 2,700 head on the farm on Saturday) and Lynn manages the 6,300-acre grain operation. Among many other things, they shared how circular their operation is: Lynn raises corn. Mike buys corn from Lynn for the cattle. Cattle eat corn and produce manure. Lynn injects manure into fields for fertilizer. Lynn grows more corn. Corn is used to make ethanol. Gluten and distillers grains are by-products of ethanol production. Mike buys gluten and distillers grains to feed to cattle. Who produce more manure. Which grows more corn.  And so on and so forth. I think the Field Moms were impressed by that. Heck, I was impressed by that.

While we were inside, Mike also gave a quick lesson in beef selection at the grocery store. He brought out several packages of the same cut of meat and talked about different quality grades. Higher grade=more marbling. More marbling=more flavor. He pointed out that marbling is mono-unsaturated fat.

"It's like eating olive oil," Mike said. "That's the kind of fat that's good for you, and we haven't done a very good job in the beef industry of telling you that." The bad fat is what most folks cut off – the thick stuff around the edge.

And before anyone could even ask, Mike talked about hormones and antibiotics. He reported that while he understood people's concerns, he suspected they might not know the whole truth: that a 3 oz. steak from an untreated steer has 1.3 nanograms of estrogen. That a 3 oz. steak from a hormone treated steer has 1.9 ng of estrogen. But the baked potato you'll eat with your steak? It has 225 ng of estrogen. (To note, a nanogram is one-billionth of a gram. So 0.6 ng is equal to slightly more than half of one billionth of a gram.)

Then he talked antibiotics. About how they only use them when an animal is sick. About how every drug has a withdrawal time – a period of time after the medicine is given before the animal can be slaughtered. How their computerized charting program flags every animal that's been treated and won't let them ship one before the withdrawal time is over. And how packers test and test, and if they find drug contamination, USDA can trace it right back to Mike's farm. "I don't need that. And I don't want to eat meat with drugs, and I don't want you to eat it either."

Really, we could have almost called it a day at that point; that's how valuable Mike's lesson was – and how good he was at relating it to the Field Moms. But it was only 9:30. Time to brave the wind.

We headed outside and to their cattle facilities where Mike pointed out their handling facilities were designed by Temple Grandin, noted for her ability to design equipment that calms the cattle. He showed how they ultrasound cattle, using it to design the exact feed type and amount that animal will need. We walked out to the cattle buildings, to the grain handling facility. We talked about grain quality and moisture and watched them dump a semi load of corn. We walked back to the field and each mom took a ride in the combine and in the tractor/auger wagon (driven quite handily by the Martz's daughter-in-law, Jamie). We talked yield maps and variable rate fertilizer application.

After lunch, it was on to Dale and Linda Drendel's dairy farm, at Hampshire. We talked milk safety, we wore snazzy bio-booties and we went into the parlor to watch them milk. We visited the baby calves. We checked out some fancy champion Holsteins, part of the Drendels' show cattle herd. Suffice to say, they've done well in the Holstein show ring, as evidenced by the wall of silver and purple in the farm office.

And among the highlights at the Drendel farm was the chance to visit with their herd veterinarian. He answered questions on hormones and BST and rBST, and how there's no discernible difference between the two. Indeed, milk cannot be labeled BST-free because every cow produces BST and it occurs naturally in milk. Instead, milk producers label it rBST-free (recombinant BST). He also shared how when one farm he consulted with decided to stop using rBST, it was a marketing decision and not a scientific one. "I don't think you should turn your back on technology. But I think consumers should have a choice and in that circumstance, they were saying they didn't want it."

It was a whirlwind of a day and in a nutshell, I think we were all better informed at day's end – myself included. I had some great conversations with some of the moms before they boarded the bus. We all experienced information overload, but those I spoke with were impressed with the technology and the care for the animals.

Sure, that's little surprise for farm folk. But with any degree of luck, given a few more days like Saturday, eventually it'll be little surprise for Chicago Field Moms, too.

 

Holly Spangler,
Marietta, Illinois

Want to know more about Illinois agriculture and life on a young family's farm? Check out Holly's Prairie Farmer blog.


Aug 10

Farm Moms Hit the Road

Emily Webel, Holly Spangler, Donna Jeschke and Deb MooreGrateful to be guest blogging today from Prairie Farmer!

Who doesn't love a road trip? I have been game for hitting the open road with a girlfriend since, well, since I turned 16 and could. My first was but days after my 16th birthday, when my best friend and I loaded up in my mom's Caprice Classic and headed to the big city, where we each got a second hole pierced in just one of our ears. We were total rebels.

So when the opportunity arose to travel to Chicago on behalf of Illinois Farm Families for an evening with a group of Chicago moms, I jumped on it. So did Emily Webel, of Confessions of a Farm Wife fame. In fact, we commenced to emailing each other pretty much instantly and formulating our wild plans. The lengthy exchange ended with a reference to cruising the square in high school; I'm not sure how we got to that point in our conversation but it was a fun one.

Anyway. Wild may be a bit of an overstatement, as we were two moms escaping our farms with Emily's wonderfulperfectwellbehavedangelic 2 ½-month-old baby, Jack, along. Seriously, you've hardly seen such a placid little child. He was a doll.

Anyway, again. The plan was to meet up with two other farm moms, Deb Moore and Donna Jeschke, at a café, along with some 40 Chicago area moms who are either bloggers or who are part of a moms group that expressed interest in knowing more about their food supply. It was, in a word, fascinating.

We surveyed the scene, as women poured into the café. We talked and greeted and learned a bit about each other. Then we four farm women introduced ourselves and told a bit about our families and farm operations. Almost immediately after introductions were over, a lovely young woman named Katherine came over and simply gushed that if she'd been asked to pick out the four farm moms in the group, she never would have picked us. "You're so trendy!" she said. "You're dressed like us. You all are, like, hot farm moms!"

I had (and still have) no idea how to respond to that, as I've never heard those exact words strung together in regard to a group I'm a part of, but it was a fascinating observation. And as I questioned her and a group of other women, I learned that they really and truly expected us to be in jeans and boots and plaid shirts. (Not that there's anything wrong with that.) Someone asked Emily if she wore bibs. "Um, no," she said. I admitted I sometimes wear Carhartt bibs to do chores and pull calves in the winter, but that's it. I haven't worn bibs as a fashion statement since the mid-1990s, and I'm not ever sure if I should admit that.

Fashion aside, we then divided into three groups, and the four of us rotated through each group. We took questions like:
  • What do you think about documentaries like King Corn?
  • What's your day like?
  • It seems like from what we hear that Monsanto controls everything and now they're getting into food. How do you feel about them having a monopoly?
  • Do you take vacations?
And we fielded comments like:
  • It's just unnatural to breed plants in a laboratory and have our food come from there.
  • I don't like crossing tomatoes and fish and everything else. We're messing with our food supply too much. I don't even like rice with Vitamin D. It's too much like we can just pop a pill or a grain some day and get all our nutritional needs from that one thing.
  • Something like 80% of all corn goes into ethanol.
So our challenge was to first, relate to these women, which wasn't all that difficult. My kids are 8, 6 and 3, and these women all had young children as well. The second challenge was to answer the questions, be honest and do not be defensive. We did correct misinformation where necessary (23% of Illinois corn goes into Illinois ethanol plants…not 80%). But we strove to do so without becoming defensive and without judgment and superiority. No one wants to be made to feel ignorant, and you will not win people over by making them feel that way.

The fact is, these women are much like us, but with less freezer space. They don't have access to local meat or their own sweet corn patch, and they're distrustful. I think, very honestly, I would feel the same way. They don't get the same information we do. They get documentaries about King Corn and Food, Inc., and Farmageddon, and they get Katie Couric insinuating that antibiotics are bad. That would make me question, too.

In all, it was a good night. If the goal was to talk to the food-buying decision-making consumers who have questions and want answers, we succeeded brilliantly. I'd load up and head north again in a heartbeat.

Holly Spangler
Marietta, Illinois

Holly Spangler is farmwife to John, mother to three little farm kids, and farm writer for Prairie Farmer, all from their farmstead in western Illinois. You can follow her blog here.
Jun 01

Welcome to the Farm

Holly Spangler and daughter, Illinois Farm Families

I'm so excited to help kick off the Watch Us Grow blog!

I am Holly Spangler, farm wife to John, farm writer for Prairie Farmer, former farm kid from southern Illinois, and farm mother to three little farm kids. That's a lot
of farm, and I am a little bit exhausted just thinking about it.


As an associate editor for Prairie Farmer magazine (which happens to be the oldest farm publication in the country, and at one time had its own building in Chicago), I travel the state looking for stories, and interviewing, photographing and writing about farmers and other assorted experts. I also blog regularly. The blog, as it turns out, is an extension of my monthly column, begun in 2001 and called My Generation. Through both venues, I try to offer up a little bit of life on a young family's farm, and our unique take on the agriculture issues of the day as young farmers. Things like the county fair, harvest, and what we're grateful for.

Our farm is nestled in the hills and hollows of western Illinois, near the Spoon River. Indeed, Edgar Lee Master's Spoon River Anthology was based upon towns just down the road from us. Here on our farm, we raise corn, soybeans, hay and cattle. We grow corn and beans on the better soil, and make use of those erosion-prone hills to grow beef cattle, instead of row crops. It's just one of many conservation practices we employ to make the best use of – and take the best care of – our God-given soils.

We are a family operation, covering about 3,500 acres. We farm with my husband's parents, and live just across the field from them…which is to say, my kids make many trips back and forth to Grandma's in the course of the day. I have come to believe, if there is any blessing at all in production agriculture, it is the ability to bring multiple generations together with a common goal, working together in community.

We have three little farm kids, ages 8, 6 and 3. Each of the older two are raising their own bottle calves. These are calves that wound up without a mother; one was rejected by the mama cow (rare, but it happens sometimes) and the other was a twin whose mama didn't have enough milk for two calves. So each day, the kids give their calves a bottle, both morning and night. They also have fun with them. I'll look out and see them snuggling with them, or putting a halter on them and running around the yard. This is the second year they've had bottle calves. In the fall, we will begin "backgrounding" the calves – feeding them gluten and other ethanol byproducts to prepare them for sale into a feeder market. That sale will take place in January. As much as the kids love their calves, they know well they are food animals. When the calves are sold, we will deduct feed expenses and the kids will add the balance to their savings accounts.

And although I grew up on a farm and know all this to be very familiar and very comfortable, I know that's not the case for everyone. I can well imagine that not knowing how my food was raised would make me uncomfortable. Sort of like having a pediatrician make a decision about my children's health without my knowledge.

So with that in mind, a group of Illinois farmers have started this blog. We hope to share more about life on our farms, and why safe, abundant and healthy food is important to us, too. There will be a variety of us posting on here in the coming weeks. I hope you'll stop back in and get to know us. Ask questions as you think of them. And please don't hesitate to contact me directly. As a farmer and as a farm writer, I'd love to hear from you.

In fact, we'd love to bring you out to our farms. If you think you'd be interested in being part of a select group of "Field Moms", chosen to tour a variety of Illinois farms, please considering applying here. We'd love to open our farms and our homes, and sit around the dinner table and have a real conversation about real food.

In the meantime, let's keep talking.

Holly Spangler
Marietta, Illinois