Kuna, Idaho-
Boise River and Snake River Watershed
2020 - ongoing
My father; a fourth-generation farmer in southern Idaho; a conservative Republican; a retired mechanic for the US Air Guard... has shifted the family farm to regenerative agricultural practices.
Concurrently...
I; an art graduate student; an environmental justice nerd; a Democrat... began to study regenerative agriculture as a possible remedy to the climate crisis, unaware of my dad’s pivot.
Since 2020, I have been documenting the transition from industrialized farming methods to regenerative practices. Whenever on the farm, I join my dad on his daily routine of never ending choirs and repairs. He tells me about the soil and roots that keep water from evaporating; about worm and microbe populations; about how the hawks, foxes, and quail have begun to return. He chuckles at me lugging the cameras around. We watch a calf being born.
He tells me about the ongoing drought, about all of the farm land that is becoming asphalt next door, and how his fellow farmers, lifelong friends, now mock his decisions- for going “green.”
The sky is often pink from raging wild fires across the west. We notice that the sunsets are more colorful because of the smoke. At one point, he said that he was worried that the plants weren’t getting enough sunlight because of the dense haze.
My dad and I don’t see eye to eye on many issues. We’ve had chapters of distance because of these disagreements. But on the farm, we both get giddy talking about groundcovers or sharing our latest research discoveries with one another. Our relationship has changed- is changing- is in the process of healing.
In a time of historic political division and discord across the United States, I'm interested in this moment of convergence; of agreement; of seeing with one another. Not to erase our disagreements, but to find common ground to discuss them while actively caring differently for the land and its inhabitants. My dad has agreed to do this project with me, despite our differences, or perhaps because of them. Because we both agree that its necessary- to begin the messy work- to have the hard conversations- to wrestle with the complexities while finding a way forward... together.
2020 - ongoing
My father; a fourth-generation farmer in southern Idaho; a conservative Republican; a retired mechanic for the US Air Guard... has shifted the family farm to regenerative agricultural practices.
Concurrently...
I; an art graduate student; an environmental justice nerd; a Democrat... began to study regenerative agriculture as a possible remedy to the climate crisis, unaware of my dad’s pivot.
Since 2020, I have been documenting the transition from industrialized farming methods to regenerative practices. Whenever on the farm, I join my dad on his daily routine of never ending choirs and repairs. He tells me about the soil and roots that keep water from evaporating; about worm and microbe populations; about how the hawks, foxes, and quail have begun to return. He chuckles at me lugging the cameras around. We watch a calf being born.
He tells me about the ongoing drought, about all of the farm land that is becoming asphalt next door, and how his fellow farmers, lifelong friends, now mock his decisions- for going “green.”
The sky is often pink from raging wild fires across the west. We notice that the sunsets are more colorful because of the smoke. At one point, he said that he was worried that the plants weren’t getting enough sunlight because of the dense haze.
My dad and I don’t see eye to eye on many issues. We’ve had chapters of distance because of these disagreements. But on the farm, we both get giddy talking about groundcovers or sharing our latest research discoveries with one another. Our relationship has changed- is changing- is in the process of healing.
In a time of historic political division and discord across the United States, I'm interested in this moment of convergence; of agreement; of seeing with one another. Not to erase our disagreements, but to find common ground to discuss them while actively caring differently for the land and its inhabitants. My dad has agreed to do this project with me, despite our differences, or perhaps because of them. Because we both agree that its necessary- to begin the messy work- to have the hard conversations- to wrestle with the complexities while finding a way forward... together.
