Our initial efforts to build a community farm went well. Our first location, was on the outskirts of the city, across the bridge in Rubidoux, in the barrios, alongside large plots of land; ranches, owned by quiet farmers, predominately Mexican, replete with horses, lamb, peacocks, chicken, turtles, fish, border collies, owls, bees- it was a paradise and a playground.

I remember helping out at the farm during those early days of the pandemic (Summer 2020) and basking in the setting sun, the pink orange glow. I would stare at the translucent tomatoes as the sun shot straight through them, a helio x ray. You could see the inside of the tomatoes, these little cherry tomatoes we had rows of. You could see their soft internal spines and you were reminded of the conception of the universe. It was that much of an epiphany for me.

I found an absurd euphoria in chomping on a piece of kale that I had just pulled from the ground. What SUPERMARKET? SPROUTS?WHOLE FOODS!? PFT! WHO NEEDS THAT! It was marvelous..What didn’t we have? Everything Trader Joes had going for it we had! I was obsessed with ratatouille at the time, we had all the ingredients! Zucchini, Spaghetti Squash, Egg Plant, Bell Pepper, Basil, Onions, Tomatoes- there were even cucumbers, we did corn, pumpkins, watermelons- this was in like two seasons! The soil was incredibly potent, we were using the waste from the fish in the pond to fertilize the ground so it was 100% organic. It was sustained at its core by Fred and Richie’s efforts and then a laundry list of local organizations that served as auxiliary forces- each seeming to have a unique branch of human knowledge that could be used to ensure the farm was up and running.

I remember working with this older Chicano Chap, Richie… “R-r-r-r-richhie!” I would holler, asking for advice on how to handle the produce. He was generous, throw the melon like its a rugby ball he would gesture, let’s make a line right here with your fellow acolytes. Hop one, Hop two. Pull and throw, catch and drop he commanded, handle bar mustache and all, swarthy skin- a man from a different era. A real gaucho- a scholar and a gentleman. My buddy who was going into the Marines, Chicano himself, Jeff, would joke with him in Spanish. I’d get the English version afterwards. We would chuckle- it was the middle of the pandemic, it was mayhem everywhere- riots, corruption, scandals, vaccines, religious conflict, crypto schemes, shorting GameStop stock- and there we were, peacefully pulling vegetables from the Earth, the good Earth, and making it into great meals. It was an oddly grounding experience. The World’s on fire, disaster lurking around every corner. Go back to the farm. No one can make sense of anything? Go back to nature. Reclaim what we lost to the 9 to 5. Go back to the Earth. And La raza, and la puebla.

We were all learning how to farm for the first time, Fred and Richie were the leads. Fred had done his fair share of farming for his own family over the years so when the pandemic hit he figured he might as well do it for the community at large. I was looking for work, and an old college buddy, Aram, told me that he had started a mutual aid program with a couple of students from UCR and RCC. They would harvest the produce, get it to a local kitchen, the kitchen would make it into meals, and then Aram and Co would run the food to families who had been impacted by the pandemic. Aram had been really active back in school, ran for associated student president, the whole nine yards- and was eyeing a city council position at the time. I was hellbent on becoming a self sufficient man- the rest intent on practicing sustainability in a very real way.

The farm, as it currently stands, in its second iteration, three years out from when we first broke ground at the Rubidoux location, hosts food drives, offers volunteer hours for local high school and college kids, and runs educational courses for elementary age children. Collaborations with local organizations such as IEHP, Amazon, and local Nursing programs have proven to be fruitful. The farm also welcomes artists of all types, many of which have contributed their talents to beautifying the space, painting massive cargo bins and cement cylinders. The newest addition, a pond and three ducks add a healing element to the tranquil plot of land, nearby tortoise and chicken wander about in their little pens.