According to the American Immigration Council, women slightly outnumber men at over 23 million female immigrants in the U.S. But while immigrants move by choice, refugees have been forced to flee their homes due to violence, war, hunger and climate change. Some need items as basic as shoes. At MAKE, these women are offered not just support, but a launching pad to their new lives in the US. 

MAKE Projects, which stands for Merging Agriculture Kitchens and Employment, is a spin-off of the International Rescue Committee, a refugee resettlement agency, and provides the women three months of paid worker training through a community garden, kitchen and 16-table café.

“While not all refugee and immigrant women have a strong connection to farm, everyone has a strong connection to foods that evoke memories, nostalgia or just an important sense of cultural identity,” says Anchi Mei, MAKE’s executive director and founder.

Mei launched the nonprofit in 2017 to address the lack of workforce development opportunities for refugee women with English language and cultural barriers, who can find themselves isolated and trapped in poverty. 

“Over time, we have come to understand that access to employment is more than financial. It is personal, emotional, social and benefits not just the immediate family but the whole community.” 

Mei’s program for women and youth, which has built partnerships with local colleges, community organizations, employers and customers, is a necessary bridge.  

Weekly English coaching provided by volunteers helps smooth the path for the newcomers. But it all begins with the universal language of food, in all its worldly flavors. The first two weeks are spent on the farm.

MAKE Farm, a roughly quarter acre plot, uses low-till practices to improve soil health and nutrient density in crops, along with intercropping – growing two or more crops close together – and integrated pest management. Fish and kelp meal are the main fertilizers. Throughout the grounds, pollinator plants and bird habitats promote cross-pollination and a more complex ecosystem.

The resulting bounty travels to the kitchen side, but it loops back to the farm in leftovers to nourish new plantings. “We promote living soils with a robust composting system using our restaurant food waste and regular applications of compost teas,” Mei says.

Farm Program Manager Robbie Wilcox chooses a diverse planting mix. A winter CSA mix contained Taiwanese chrysanthemum greens alongside more familiar customer favorites: spinach, radishes, beets and sweet potato. The produce goes into several dishes at the cafe, like the MAKE Market Salad and Wellness Soup Bowl, tailored by chef Renee Fox around whatever is fresh and abundant that week. 

As the women plant, prune and prep vegetable boxes for subscribers, they ease into the many skills needed to enter the workforce. And when they begin the next phase of the program by working at MAKE’s cafe in North Park, they continue to hone their culinary and hospitality skills serving up such fare as Afghan chicken, cardamom crepes and toasted milk bread; recipe ideas the women share from their own experiences. Several graduates have gone on to work in food service at local hospitals.

“We are a better San Diego with more different voices, flavors and faces at the table.”

Not all choose to work with food, however. Gulnara, who is originally from Kazakhstan, found a job in finance and operations at a local nonprofit. Others work in local hospitals and schools, like Nejat, a recent graduate from Ethiopia.

The farm to table training is a unique way to enter the American workforce, Mei says. Students learn essential job readiness skills and expectations as they transition from the farm to a more intensive work experience in MAKE’s restaurant. And with participants who have hailed from over 30 countries since the program began, it’s a cultural dialogue that enriches the entire San Diego community.

Last year, she says, “was epic.” Thanks to a large workforce development grant, they expanded their facilities and scaled up the adult trainee program, allowing them to work with many more refugee and immigrant women of all different English speaking levels, and educational and professional backgrounds from their home countries.

This year, they are preparing to move to a more permanent address, as they work through the permitting for a new MAKE cafe in San Diego’s Normal Heights neighborhood, not far from their current location. It’s expected to open before the end of the year. In addition to the existing farm in Mission Valley, the new cafe will add its own 2,000 square foot garden on-site. 

Mei says they won’t be deterred by the roiling political climate, as another round of the Trump administration again takes aim at immigrants. After all, they survived the first go-round, and forged their way during COVID, the toughest of times.

“We will continue to be nimble, resourceful and resilient, much like our participants,” she says. Fortunately, MAKE has a strong community of local supporters that believe in their mission. 

“We are a better San Diego with more different voices, flavors and faces at the table.”

The post Spotlight On an Urban Farm Helping Refugees and Immigrants Build Community appeared first on Modern Farmer.

 Buying trends show that pet owners are gravitating toward human-grade ingredients. “Dog food” is regulated loosely compared to human fare, allowing even meat deemed unfit for human consumption due to things such as disease and contamination and moldy grains, a recipe for endless pet food recalls. 

The pet food industry traditionally relies on factory farm byproducts for its ingredients, a practice the industry touts as more sustainable as it produces less waste and cheaper food. But dog owners distrust this mysterious supply chain. 

As shoppers seek more wholesome foods for pets, some also try to make eco-friendly choices, which seems to contradict a diet of human-grade foods, especially meat. Agriculture contributes at least 11 percent of US greenhouse gas emissions, and meat is the biggest contributor among foods. 

Is there a way to make healthier dog food that won’t burden the planet so much? Here is how a few companies are dishing up new models.

Farm Hounds

Family farms often struggle to stay profitable as agriculture becomes more concentrated. There were 141,733 fewer farms in the US in 2022 than in 2017, according to the Census of Agriculture. 

Livestock farmers who practice regenerative farming, improving soil and biodiversity with methods such as rotational grazing, strive to waste nothing and can still wind up with leftovers. Like the hog tails, hides, organs, and hooves that aren’t always suitable for compost. 

“From our experience, most regenerative farms don’t have much of an active market for these products,” says Stephen Calsbeek, co-founder of Farm Hounds, a company that partners with regenerative farms to make single-ingredient treats for dogs.

“It is rare to meet a new farm and hear they are already capturing and selling something we are looking for,” he says. Where items like muscle meat and organs have a route to human markets, Farm Hounds looks for trim, miscuts and excess volume.

It started sourcing scraps from places such as White Oak Pastures, a farm in Bluffton, Georgia committed to regenerative and humane farming techniques. 

Customers couldn’t get enough of the local grass-farmed treats. With that, the store’s pup-loving proprietors launched Farm Hounds, dehydrating raw items in their home kitchen, which they now sell online as well.

Over time, collaboration with a single farm grew into a whole network, with new partners continually being added to meet the demand.  

“We are talking with very busy farmers, who then have to sort out how to capture and store the products we are looking for,” says Calsbeek. “It can take six to 12 months before we see our first order.” Farms that use an offsite processor have to ask the processor to return parts they aren’t used to capturing. “Depending on how strict the USDA inspector is, it can require the farm and the processing facility to update their HACCP plan just to capture something for us.” 

For most of the farms, the added revenue from using every part of the animal has been “impactful,” says Calsbeek. Some have changed their practices. Polyface, a renowned farm in Virginia, now breeds its birds on-site, having learned that Farm Hounds would purchase the roosters (male chicks are culled at hatcheries). At times, it’s a safety net if a human market is lost; during the COVID lockdown, for example, a key buyer for one farm stopped ordering products that had already been raised. “We’ve seen farms able to hire more workers in their community due to our purchasing.”

Today, in addition to a variety of treats and chews of all sizes, Farm Hounds sells items that even make use of their own leftovers. In recent years, the company, which now has a nationwide following, has landed on the Inc. 5000 list, ranking among America’s fastest-growing independent businesses. 

The Conscious Pet

No discussion of vanishing farmland or concerns about wasting human grade food on pets is complete without a mention of food waste—when 30 percent to 40 percent of the entire US food supply gets dumped in landfills. The Environmental Protection Agency estimates the US discards nearly 40 million tons of food every year, more than any other country. 

One solution is to upcycle it. The Conscious Pet, an Austin-based company started by Mason Arnold and Jessica Kezar Arnold, makes human-grade dog food and treats by dehydrating scraps from local restaurants, breweries, and food distributors.

This isn’t stuff they glean from trash cans. 

“Think of a kitchen that trims their steaks or chicken before cooking their meals,” says Arnold, a sustainability-minded entrepreneur who hosts a podcast with Kezar-Arnold called “A Mostly Green Life”—part of a community of people focused on “clean living” and environmental stewardship. 

Initially, they partnered with a composting facility, capturing suitable meat and vegetable scraps, which they now collect directly from a variety of sources. While composting helps keep waste out of landfills, they knew it wasn’t the best use of edible food. 

So, they experimented with recipes in their home kitchen, creating products to sell in the perfect incubator—Austin, home to 500,000 pups and owners who spend the most on dog food of any major city. A city ordinance requires restaurants to responsibly dispose of organic waste, which can mean a solution such as repurposed pet food.

“The first batches looked like dog food already, just not in the right shape as it was mostly powder with a few clumps,” says Arnold. “It took us six months or so to develop the first usable recipe and, honestly, it took over 1.5 years to perfect it.”

DoggieBag, the human-grade kibble, is lightly cooked and shelf stable. The recipe uses 85 percent sustainably sourced animal protein and about 15 percent organic vegetables. Only the vitamin additives aren’t from scraps.

The zero-waste company, which uses clean energy and compostable packaging, kicked off in 2022 by offering locals a chance to own a part of it. It is currently moving to a new facility and plans to relaunch its line of products this fall, says Arnold.

“It isn’t hard to get something going, but [it] does require investment in the machinery to accomplish the process,” says Arnold. Another challenge has been the stigma around food waste. People often imagine the ruins of meals in trash cans, not kitchen trimmings and dented packaging.

“That fresh product is still consumable and delicious and could be used to make soups and such for humans, but we take it and make pet food out of it.”

With the country’s ample supply of leftovers, it’s a model that could be used in other cities, says Arnold.

“We’re excited to start partnering with others who want to implement this technology, and welcome any inquiries from people or companies wanting to do it in their town.” 

Open Farm

A new national strategy for reducing food waste by 50 percent by 2030 includes “raising and breeding insects as livestock.” 

Even meat giant Tyson Foods is getting into insects for use in the pet food, aquaculture, and livestock industries.

Vying to be the next big protein are crickets, black soldier fly larvae (grubs) and mealworms, all approved for use in dog food in the US. These tiny animals yield high-quality protein, can eat food waste, and can be eaten as food. Their excrement, frass, is a rich fertilizer for agriculture.

When it comes to sustainability, experts say insect farming uses less land and water, and it has fewer emissions. With their high food conversion rate, insects can convert two kilograms of feed into one kg of insect mass, while cattle require eight kg of feed to produce one kg of body weight gain. Crickets need six times less feed than cattle, four times less than sheep, and two times less than pigs and broiler chickens to produce the same amount of protein. Black soldier fly larvae, among the most efficient insect species, develop in two to three weeks.

So far, consumers aren’t rushing in. Only one US company has developed an insect-based kibble, while one that started with a bang—Grubbly Farms—has switched its promising entry into dog food to backyard chickens.

But the infrastructure is growing. EnviroFlight, a company that produces black soldier fly larvae, opened the first US production facility in Maysville, Kentucky in 2018, while Oregon-based Chapul Farms is working on various aspects of insect agriculture. Tyson plans to build a US facility that supports every stage of insect protein production from breeding to hatching of larvae. All the companies, even leading dog food brands, see insect-based pet food as a growing market.

It’s similar to traditional dog food, trading ground-up meat or fish for insects as the main protein. Grubs, the most common source, provide all 10 essential amino acids dogs require.

Adding an insect kibble made sense to Canadian dog food maker Open Farm, which put grubs on the menu in 2022, sourcing protein for its black soldier fly larvae kibble with consideration of its environmental impacts and processing. Since there’s no animal welfare certification for grubs, it  sought suppliers that adhere to the Five Freedoms of Animal Welfare, ensuring healthy living conditions. The grubs are humanely euthanized with high heat.

But it turned out that “the demand was a little low,” says spokesperson Bridget Trumper. The company has discontinued its Kind Earth Insect recipe. “We hope as these options become more popular, we will be able to bring this recipe back, and introduce additional insects.”

There was a twist, however, in pet owners snubbing the unconventional animal protein.

“Surprisingly, our plant-based recipes were more popular and we will be continuing to offer those,” says Trumper. The company thinks it has to do with greater familiarity with a vegetarian diet. For now, it plans to monitor the trends and educate pet owners on the environmental benefits of alternative proteins.

“We believe, in time, pet parents will come around to the idea,” says Trumper.

Innovations in pet food can make a difference on a local scale and beyond. Farm Hounds’ use of farm waste can be adopted in other areas, and the company has gone from selling products in its local stores to a nationwide online business with a network of farm partners that has extended to other states, including California—and it ranks as one of the fastest-growing independent businesses, making the Inc. 5000 list the past two years. Food waste is another resource that could be tapped around the country to improve pet health with human-grade by-products. As Mars, the world’s largest pet food manufacturer, Tyson, and other companies add insects to the menu while researchers seek ways to breed bigger insects faster, the potential grows for reducing the impacts of factory meat farming.

The post Your Dog’s Food Probably Comes From a Factory Farm. Meet Some Folks Who Want to Change That appeared first on Modern Farmer.

Unlike wildlife scat, which spreads seeds and returns nature’s nutrients in a balanced way, most conventional pet diets yield large amounts of waste.

The average dog produces about three quarters of a pound of poop per day, or 275 pounds per year, according to the Environmental Protection Agency. Philadelphia accounts for tens of millions of pounds of dog waste annually, while New York City contributes 82,125 tons.  

A pile left to rot on the ground can take months to decay, potentially shedding bacteria, viruses and worms. The nutrient-rich waste is likely to get into storm drains and waterways, helping fuel toxic algal blooms. 

So, scooping seems like an easy win. But what about that plastic bag that’s typically part of the bargain? In the small city of Morro Bay, California, about 1,000 bags are used for each dog’s waste per year. These, too, get left on the ground, where rain can wash the entire neatly tied package into waterways.

A study estimates that up to 1.23 million tons of dog poop bags are disposed of annually around the world. It’s a small fraction (0.6 percent) of all plastic waste, but as the authors note in their title, their brief life cycle makes them “a non-negligible source of plastic pollution.” 

Some cities even require pet waste to be double-bagged to shield workers from the contents. 

In landfills, whether it’s incinerated or sits slowly decaying, poop adds to methane gas emissions. Packaged poop can take hundreds of years to break down, even in bags deemed compostable or biodegradable; certifications that are based on commercial composting conditions, not landfills—but US industrial composting facilities don’t accept pet waste.

The Biodegradable Products Institute, which sets standards for such bags, stopped certifying pet bags for the US market for that reason.

“I would just like to find one commercial composter in the US that accepts dog waste, period,” says Gary Bilbro, sales director at EcoSafe Zero Waste bags, on a web post. Faced with a dog waste composting desert, EcoSafe quit selling its certified compostable doggy bags in the US. “Our Canadian markets purchase hundreds of thousands monthly, but most of the Canadian composters accept pet waste.”

In fact, dozens of communities in Canada, in the provinces of Alberta, Nova Scotia, Ontario, Quebec and Saskatchewan, compost dog poop, saying it reduces the amount of plastic going to landfills, while studies have found it can cut the volume of dog waste in half.

In the US, dog parks are catching on.

Lessons From Mushers and Others

Composting is the controlled breakdown of organic matter into humus, a rich soil amendment many prefer over chemical fertilizers. Farmers and gardeners often use livestock manure from poultry, cattle or horses. But when it comes to dog manure, the process is frequently shunned over fears of pathogens—despite the widespread practice of fertilizing crops with “biosolid compost”—sewage sludge—which has been found to contain toxic PFAS chemicals and many other hazards.

Mingchu Zhang, professor of soil science and agronomy at the University of Alaska Fairbanks, cautions in an email about infectious organisms in dog poop that might survive composting. “That is perhaps why most cities prohibit it.”

Yet a number of studies and pilot projects have helped pioneer the composting of dog waste— and unlike biosolids, it’s not being spread on food crops. 

The first scientific study took place in Fairbanks, Alaska in 1991. In the land of the Iditarod Trail Dog Sled Race are scads of dog lots near wetlands. As snow melted, piles of manure reappeared and infiltrated waterways. Armed with an EPA grant, conservation agencies and dog mushers worked together to find a fix. 

In summer, poop is mixed with sawdust in covered bins in a ratio of about 30 parts carbon to one part nitrogen. Every one to two weeks, rangers give it a stir, and in one to two months, it shrinks into a smaller pile of crumbly soil. Over winter, there’s no stirring the frozen mix; poop is collected, but the entire process takes one to two years. 

Composting is still in use at some sled dog kennels, including one in Denali National Park, the only national park that composts this waste from its sled dogs as part of its commitment to starve the landfills.

“Since it’s from dog manure, it is not recommended for vegetables, but there are a lot of other uses for it,” says ranger Mitch Flanigan. In 2021, the kennels produced 6,650 pounds of compost. A lot of it winds up in flower pots in the kennel and visitor center. Some is donated to locals through signs he posts in stores, he says. One resident used the material as backfill for a septic system.

Composting is also thriving at many US dog parks and other places that took a chance on the maligned material. New York City’s Battery Park uses it, once fully cured and tested, for plantings in highway medians. 

Mississauga, Ontario, which in 2019 began processing dog poop at waste-to-energy facilities, turns some into fertilizer. City spokesperson Irene McCutcheon says that, in 2023, almost 14 metric tons of dog waste was collected and diverted—”the equivalent of powering close to eight homes for a year.”

Repurposing dog poop is also helping Colorado front range communities inch closer to their zero waste goals. Rose Seemann, who started a composting company called EnviroWagg, has helped forge a path by working with Metro Denver and Boulder dog parks, hiking trail heads and businesses. 

The poop is collected by a pet waste removal service partner, which  delivers it to the composting facility. The finished product is used only on landscaping at the compost site, with no distribution to the public, says Seeman. Past batches intended for sale have tested safe. Each batch needs to be tested separately, but once a batch passes EPA standards for pathogen levels, it can be used for edible plants.

So, why do we recycle sewage sludge in the US but not dog poop? 

Plastic Ick  

Ten years ago, EnviroWagg created and test marketed a product for use on herbs, fruits and vegetables. It tested well for plant nutrients and passed EPA standards for pathogens, making it “an excellent soil amendment for both landscaping and edible crops,” says Seemann.

But that wasn’t enough.

“The ick factor made it a difficult sell.” 

Today, the company doesn’t turn a profit, she says, and that’s not unusual. “No one has figured out a way to monetize the process.” Programs such as  those in NYC are carried out by parks departments, while communities in Canada and Australia accept pet poop with food scraps and yard waste in residential green bins.

The EPA doesn’t recognize it as a waste stream, she says, “although audits and guesses say it adds up to around 12 percent of residential waste.”

But any commercial composting facility that follows processing regulations and testing protocols can do it, says Seemann. And professionally finished compost can be used for any planting, even produce.

“It’s just a perception issue.” 

The main challenges in getting dog parks and cities to take it on are convincing the public decision-makers who authorize budgeting, and finding a regional composter willing to accept pet waste, she says.

And once again, plastic trips things up.

Dog park composting pilot projects live on—or not depending on people knowing what goes where. Two dog parks in Calgary recently ended a six-month trial because people were tossing plastic in the composting bin. Only certified compostable bags were allowed.

Adding dog poop to US organics curbside collection programs would create a mess for sorters who have to remove contaminants such as  plastic, and in turn, the compost facility charged with managing it.

According to the Biodegradable Products Institute, many doggy bags advertised as compostable are actually petroleum-based products treated with chemicals to hasten their breakdown.

To get around the plastic problem, Friends of Hillside Dog Park in New York City placed scoopers and biodegradable brown paper next to the compost bins. 

Do-It-Yourself

Poop near a storm drain is one thing, but the Environmental Protection Agency sees the benefits in repurposing it. “Dog waste composting is a natural process that requires air, water, organic matter, microbes and a little human intervention,” its  website notes.

Seemann says the big difference between commercial and DIY compost is that the latter should not be used on edible gardens unless it’s been tested. Backyard composters can struggle to maintain the high temperatures needed to kill pathogens. Denali rangers recommend home poop composters sustain a temperature range between 130°F and 170°F.

But the process—cooking, turning, curing a dedicated poop pile—isn’t that hard to learn. It can even be done in small spaces. 

“Compost dog waste the same as other materials. The dog poo is green, so you need to balance it with carbon.” Rose Seemann

Add the variables of climate, weather and available materials to get a sense of the trial and error aspect. When any unfinished compost smells, it needs carbon—such as wood chips or shredded straw—and turning. 

Zhang, the soil scientist at the University of Alaska, cautions about selling or giving away backyard compost unless it reaches US EPA standards. “People who use it on their own are responsible for themself for the issues that may arise from compost dog manure.” 

Good composting, on the other hand, can keep problems in check while it shrinks the waste—and that mountain of plastic used to package it.

The post Closing the Loop on Poop appeared first on Modern Farmer.

It turns out the miracle thread made from oil isn’t so recyclable. But it does break down, bit by bit: in the wash, on land, everywhere. Textiles are a major source of microplastics in the ocean, where they weave their way into the food chain, causing untold harms to marine life. Entire ecosystems are being altered by our clothes. 

Studies tell us we eat and drink its flecks, too, with unknown health impacts, and that the volume of plastic particles in the ocean is doubling about every six years. 

Our daily clothing choices are part of it all, but with polyester, rayon and acrylic so ubiquitous plastic even rains from the sky, choices are limited. Polyester, made from the same plastic as most water bottles, is woven into about half of the world’s clothing. Cheap and easy to make, it’s still the fastest-growing group of fibers used to manufacture garments. 

What’s the solution? Some see the answer to more sustainable fabrics in new materials that can readily decompose or be recycled; others say natural fibers and local supply chains are the way to go. But each approach depends on infrastructure that has yet to be fully realized. If the end game is simply more mass production and consumption, with the thought that all of this material will quickly degrade or find its way to recycling, our oceans and landfills of trash will only grow.

The high cost of fast fashion 

Fast fashion uses both synthetic and natural fibers, and the environmental trade-offs between the two are endless, from land and water use to chemical inputs. But when it comes to planet-heating emissions, fossil fuel-based synthetics—the main materials in use—are clear losers. Fashion contributes around 10 percent of global greenhouse gas emissions, second only to big oil. And most of the carbon footprint of a garment is around producing its fibers. 

Another big factor is end of life. There is nowhere near enough fiber recycling infrastructure in the US, where 85 percent of used clothes and other textiles get sent to the landfill. In California, most clothing is disposed of through curbside solid waste collection—a straight route to the dump. At every level are gaps that prevent “textile circularity” especially when it comes to sorting out salvageable garments and sourcing recycling. And while natural fibers can biodegrade, it’s rarely that simple. Companies often blend natural with plastic fibers, adding dyes and finishes, and blends are particularly hard to recycle because the components require different processes.

For companies, it isn’t profitable to develop large-scale reuse, repair and recycling with the high costs of transportation, labor and processing, along with decreasing quality of new products.

According to standards body Textile Exchange, only about 14 percent of polyester is made from recycled fibers. Companies are working on technology to make it easier—yet thousands of dangerous chemicals are used to make plastic goods and researchers are sounding the alarm about recycling them. 

In addition, most natural fibers are grown conventionally, which often means heavy use of pesticides, synthetic fertilizers and genetically modified or treated seeds. Cotton, the most used natural fiber, occupies 2.4 percent of the world’s farmland but uses 4.7 percent of the world’s pesticides and 10 percent of its insecticides. 

Enter next-gen synthetics. A slew of startups is out to replace both polyester and natural fibers with alternatives they say are better for the planet.

Emerging protein designers 

One emerging method used to create new fibers is with gene editing. It happens in a wink compared to the millions of years it took nature and selective breeding by humans to perfect, say, sheeps’ wool.

After modifying genes that give a desired quality to a natural fiber, scientists insert this DNA into yeast or bacteria cells. Next, fermentation turns the microbes into factories, churning out proteins that will be spun into fibers and given names such as Microsilk and Werewool.

As the companies see it, the process is more efficient than growing fibers naturally; traditional silk, for example, is biodegradable and long-lasting, but cultivation can use large amounts of water and pesticides. One of the most promising polyester and silk replacements is Tandem Repeat’s squid protein-based Squitex, which draws on AI to design a fiber with stretch, strength and thermal responsiveness, and it works with most current manufacturing equipment. The Philadelphia company, which plans to sell both fibers and garments, will release a limited collection this year.

Another is Spiber’s Brewed Protein, which can replace oil-based, silk and other animal fibers. The polymer can yield various end products depending on the twisting of yarns. By changing the protein content and yarn diameter, the company can tweak texture, weight and handfeel.

That’s the easy part, experts say. The difficulty, and the stage most of these startups are now, is in scaling manufacturing. The manufacture of next-gen fibers requires giant fermentation vats and skilled workers. When it comes to spinning, according to Bloom Labs, costs can be two to three times higher than with oil-based yarns because the melt-spun machines used by the apparel industry don’t work with these fledgling fibers. 

But as the planet burns and plastic fibers boom, it’s getting harder for brands to ignore the need for sustainable fabrics. 

Nicole Rawling, CEO and co-founder of the think tank Material Innovation Initiative (MII), says they define “next-gen” as more than the gene-edited proteins. Those fibers can be plant-derived, mycelium, cultivated animal cells, microbe-derived, recycled materials and blends. “Next-gen materials must be animal-free, high-performance and have a smaller environmental footprint than their traditional counterparts,” she says. MII focuses on the goals of production, not the technologies used.

“We recommend focusing on the real problem: petrochemicals, not plastics,” says Rawling, noting that some plastics are bio-based and have less of an environmental impact. The claim is controversial, however, in terms of biodegradability and because plant-based plastics require crops such as corn and farmland that could have been used to grow food.

Proteins aside, Circ, a recycling innovator, has developed a hydrothermal process that can separate polyester-cotton blends—the largest blend category globally—and recover both portions to make into like-new fibers for textiles. 

“Not long ago, it was nearly impossible to separate and re-use fibers from cotton/poly blends, thus millions of tons of discarded clothing and textiles were destined for landfill or incineration,” says Rawling.

One challenge is designing biodegradability into goods that won’t easily fall apart in use. A recent study from UC San Diego’s Scripps Institution of Oceanography tracked the ability of natural, synthetic and blended fabrics to decompose in the ocean. It found that natural and wood-based cellulose fabrics (Lyocell, Modal and Viscose) degraded within a month, while fabrics made of what was thought to be a biodegradable plastic (PLA) and the oil-based fibers in textile blends showed no decay after more than a year in the ocean.

Kintra Fibers has developed a bio-based polyester (56 percent corn-derived) it says greatly reduces greenhouse gas emissions compared to conventional polyester and can be produced with the same equipment. According to its website, the material decays in controlled composting conditions. 

Fiber growers

Last October, Sally Fox was thousands of miles from home, where the greens and golds of her cotton fields shimmered in the Central Valley sun. She was at a cotton-spinning mill in Japan to sell her fibers, because there are no such mills left in California, she said in an email. “I have one customer in the world.”

Fox has been selectively breeding cotton to produce her exquisitely colored yarns for 38 years, and she says the industry was once profitable enough that she could afford to lease her own gins, the machines that quickly separate cotton fibers from seeds.

That’s no longer the case. “The textile industry collapsed when the big brands went offshore and dumped the spinners and weavers in the US, Europe and Japan. And I lost all the mills I was selling to except this one,” she said.

Fiber farmers, already up against cheap polyester and the economy of fast fashion, now face another threat: the rise of mass-produced alternative synthetics in development.

Rebecca Burgess, founder of Fibershed, a nonprofit that supports regenerative farming, points out that there is already a bounty of natural fiber available for textiles.

Two-thirds of the wool in California doesn’t even have a home and 900,000 pounds per year is textile grade, says Burgess. “We’re not even getting all the natural fibers that are part of food rotations.” 

The US is the third-largest global cotton producer. In 2018, more than 14 million of the 18 million bales it produced were exported. More than 200,000 acres of cotton is grown in the San Joaquin Valley—”enough to create at least seven pairs of jeans each year for every person in the state,” says Burgess.

If a strong local fiber economy existed, growers could find markets for all their fiber, she says. Instead, they face “huge deficits” in aggregation, distribution and manufacturing. If you start a spinning mill, for example, you also need a good wool scour line for a washing station and places to send wastewater.

Absent is large-scale felting, wool scouring, color-grown cotton gins, large-scale fine gauge spinning, industrial felt natural dye pigment production and more. 

Burgess sees the main problem with cheap fashion—one she thinks next-gen won’t solve—as massive overconsumption. At one end are people unboxing their huge hauls, “stoking people on TikTok to purchase just like them.” At the other is the Atacama Desert in Chile or Accra in Ghana, “where they receive something like 40 million garments per month,” most of which end up in open-air dumps.

Soil-to-soil fiber economies

Fibershed advocates for bringing home the once-thriving textile supply chain, which now exists as a geographically long series of links among growers and processors of fibers, weavers, knitters, dyers and finishers, product manufacturers and distributors. It envisions local systems where natural fibers are sustainably grown, processed, sewn into garments and ultimately composted. 

In Fibershed’s 168-producer network are regenerative farms and textile projects such as Chico Flax in the Sacramento Valley, which is working on bringing back the region’s flax textile industry. There are growers of dye plants, hemp, cotton and wool.

Wool production is often criticized for wreaking havoc on land, from overgrazing to scouring chemicals. The Center for Biological Diversity has called on brands to phase out or cut wool use in half by 2025. But Fibershed sees wool as a carbon sink. More than 55 wool producers have joined its Climate Beneficial Verification label program that supports farmers who are building healthy soil.

It’s not about small versus large-scale farming, says Burgess; small growers don’t always have enough land to use the rotational grazing that fosters plant biodiversity. “Some of the most regenerative, or grassland regenerating, grazing I’ve seen is on larger operations.”

To create vegetation shifts and poly cultures, ranchers try to mimic a wildland biome through multi-species grazing, “moving animals quickly through these systems, then having them return after land has had time to regenerate.”

Even cotton can be grown and processed within a scalable, restorative system, proponents say. Central Valley growers and researchers are incorporating carbon farming to help soil store carbon and water; abilities lost to decades of conventional practices. Less than one percent of cotton grown in the US is organic.

Cleaning up cotton is something Sally Fox knows all about. “I was among those who started the whole organic cotton industry.” She grows her colorful “foxfibre” cotton using biodynamic practices, but for certification, she sticks with organic—it’s less challenging, but organic is the original regenerative certification, she says.

“It is absolutely the gold standard for sequestering carbon into soils—the goal of all regenerative farming practices.”

Unbox ‘like new’

Fox views sustainability in clothing as revolving around its longevity. Cotton spun correctly should last 20 to 60 years (except jeans). Linen spun correctly should last 100 to 1,000 years. Wool spun properly should last 80 to 300 years. “I am not kidding,” she emphasizes.

Her next criteria is ethical production, “with the work force between the raw material and final product not being enslaved or coerced or any of the rest of the shenanigans used to beat down the cost brands pay for products.” She prefers garments made in the US, Japan or the EU, because they have workplace standards. Elsewhere, she seeks GOTS and Oeko-Tex certifications. “GOTS actually inspects every facility.”

Last but not least, she mends holes, fixes seams. She even darns socks. It’s not exactly fast fashion, but just landing on a definition of sustainable “can make one’s head spin,” she says. And the first response is to give up, and basically give in to polyester—the wonder fabric that, today, isn’t so wrinkle-free after all.

With legislation that requires end-of-life solutions for products, consumers rethinking their choices and investment in both next-gen synthetics and local natural fiber economies, both visions can be part of a better clothing future. Here’s how you can help:

Buy less, and love what you do buy. Instead of buying loads of cheap clothing, instead think about investing in a few high-quality items that you love and know will last you a long time. Whether made of synthetic fibers or natural fibers such as wool, silk and linen, keep in mind the lifecycle of your clothing: what will happen to it when you’re finished with it?

Buy and sell used clothing. Gently worn or returned purchases are increasingly being offered on sites such as ThredUp, Poshmark, Relay Goods and Patagonia’s Worn Wear. (For example, Relay, which calls itself a zero waste marketplace, sells shoes and sports gear, buying their surplus inventory and returns from retailers and offering the most sought-after shoes at attractive markdowns). 

Learn to mend and repair. Sewing, darning and other forms of mending used to be common, and for good reason: they help you get the most out of your clothing, and they can be fun and creative, too. Inspiration is everywhere, if you know where to look—social media can be a good place to start, and books such as Visible Mending by Arounna Khounnoraj provide step-by-step instructions for how newbies can get started.

Support legislation designed to cut down on textile waste. Legislation introduced in California and New York would eventually require textile producers to provide end-of-life solutions for products. If you want to support those bills or ask for a similar one to be introduced in your state, contact your local legislators and let your voice be heard.

The post Are Next-Gen Synthetic Fibers the Future of Sustainable Textiles? appeared first on Modern Farmer.

Law enforcement was hot on the trail of a 4-H goat.

Cedar, as his nine-year-old owner named the young Boer, had been whisked from the Shasta District Fairgrounds by the family to a distant farm after efforts to withdraw him from the auction were denied, prompting fair officials to send sheriffs to seize the alleged stolen property.

The girl and her mother had signed a contract with the fair, knowing the goat would be sold for its meat. It was the project she’d chosen in her 4-H club, a local branch of the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s nationwide youth development program. Still, she wept at the goat’s side when the bidding was over, asking that he not be killed. But the youth livestock rules governing these “terminal sales” defined only one off-ramp: the slaughterhouse.

“It’s really hard to get market animals off fairgrounds property once showing begins,” says Marji Beach, development director at Animal Place, a sanctuary in Grass Valley, Calif. where, every fair season, the requests roll in from children in 4-H and FFA (Future Farmers of America) who want to spare their pigs, cattle, goats and sheep.

A growing number are urban students who have nowhere to take their animal, even if allowed the option.

“On average, we receive around 40 requests a year,” says Beach, most involving market pigs. This fair season, it’s already reached capacity with the larger pigs. “Unfortunately, we can only say yes when we have space.”

The many projects of 4-H

4-Hers don’t have to choose a meat animal project. Fair participation isn’t even required. The nonprofit program, administered by state land-grant universities, offers more than 100 different “learn by doing” projects, with members enrolling in at least one each year.

Living on a farm is optional. Thousands of city slickers lease animals or raise creatures such as mice. On the non-meat menu is everything from tree planting, dance and public speaking to STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering and Math education). Animal projects include breeding, fiber, horse showmanship and more. 

But 4-H, which is funded by the USDA, state and local governments, as well as corporate donors, is best known for its youth livestock program. 

Market-animal projects produce significant, positive effects on 4-H enrollment, according to an analysis by the University of California Cooperative Extension.

The Shasta County fair website puts it this way: “The Junior Livestock Auction is the backbone to the Shasta District Fair as members from the superior Agriculture District 4-H and Future Farmers of America enter and show the animals.”

The top bidder receives meat from the animal, with the proceeds going to the child exhibitor and a small amount to the fair. More than 500 animals sold at the Shasta Fair in 2022 were then loaded onto trucks and hauled away for processing—as Cedar was slated to be. 

At this point, the project is over. 4-Hers, depending on how well their club prepared them, have to imagine what happens next.

Adults might consider it fortunate that children don’t have to witness their animals’ slaughter or learn about the frequency of botched deaths, equipment malfunctions and violations of the USDA Humane Methods of Slaughter Act. According to a study by sociologists Leslie Irvine and Colter Ellis at the University of Colorado, 4-Hers “fully recognize this inevitable feature of the livestock project.”

Nevertheless, some students are horrified when they actually reach that goal on auction day.

Almost pets

A federal civil rights lawsuit filed by the family in Shasta County makes an unusual claim alongside its focus on the actions of officials. One argument of attorneys Ryan Gordon and Vanessa Shakib, co-founders of nonprofit Advancing Law for Animals, is that Cedar was seized because his owner “E.L.” expressed a non-agricultural view of him.

E.L. didn’t see “Cedes,” as she called him, as meat.

The 9-year-old had just reached the age allowed by state 4-H rules to pursue a large livestock project. It’s also an age far from decision-making maturity. Studies show cognitive capacity doesn’t reach adult levels until around age 16, and psychosocial maturity continues beyond 18. 

Irvine and Colter, the sociology researchers, wanted to explore the so-called caring-killing paradox. Plenty of research has focused on the bonds between children and pets—but not when it comes to a living, bleating 4-H project. “Reproducing Dominion,” their 2010 paper, examines how children learn the belief that certain animals are created for human use, which the authors say is “the most important lesson conveyed in 4-H livestock programs.” 

That lesson was no match for the three months E.L. spent raising an adorable baby goat, teaching him to walk on a leash and trust humans, to where he began rushing to greet her.

The researchers interviewed 4-Hers to study the emotional work learned from adult mentors and peers that teaches them to cope with conflicting feelings about their animals. On the path to becoming producers, students leaned on strategies such as not naming their market animals and reminding themselves that auctions help pay for college.

E.L., who was to receive almost $900 for her goat’s meat, just wanted Cedar back. That aligns with the study’s finding that auctions are harder for younger members aged 13 and under. Their empathy for their animals has all along been encouraged. Good care makes for good meat. 

The 4-H literature instructs students to touch animals often, which prepares them for showing, and to learn all about their preferences and personalities.

All the touching, brushing and mapping of favorite scratch-spots and quirks is similar to that with a pet. And it occurs within a culture increasingly aware of animal emotions compared to when 4-H began more than a century ago. 

The Humane Methods of Slaughter Act passed in 1958. Flash forward to 2015 when a Gallup poll found a third of Americans want animals to have the same rights as people. In a 2019 Gallup poll, nearly one in four were eating less meat. And, in 2023, the Supreme Court upheld California’s landmark farmed animal protection law. 

In 4-H literature, the organization that began with a desire to modernize farming claims its message of youth development doesn’t change, “but the methods that drive the program forward often need to change with the times.” 

Irvine says that these days it’s far less common for 4-Hers to be taking over the farm, needing to learn the realities of raising meat animals. In 2010, only 11 percent of 4-Hers lived on farms. So is the terminal auction essential?

“It does seem like it’s time for 4-H to change, both because of what we know about animals and because its members increasingly don’t come from agricultural backgrounds,” says Irvine. 

“The contracts should also allow kids to change their minds, especially the younger ones.” 

Rules are rules

It’s the fair that sets the auction rules, serving up contracts that 4-Hers and parents sign. Each county fair in California can make its own rules, so long as they don’t conflict with those of the state. 4-H has no oversight of fairs.

“County fairs and livestock auctions are learning experiences we prepare our members to participate in,” says Lynn Schmitt-McQuitty, Calif.’s Statewide 4-H director. The program’s volunteers and professionals work closely with youth in livestock projects, she says, helping them choose what best suits their goals—whether market, breeding or showmanship. 

“Please know this incident does not reflect the values of the University of California 4-H youth development program,” she says of the fiasco over Cedar. 

But strict rules for terminal sales are common around the country. The Shasta Fair’s rules allow for “no exceptions.” State rules prohibit live animal pick-up by buyers, except by the transportation provided by the fair to the slaughterhouse. How enforceable those rules are is now up for debate.

In January 2023, a Florida couple who won a pig they planned to rescue were told they could only have its meat. Why? The answers varied from state rules protecting animal enterprise to 4-Hers having raised the animals for the food chain.

Nor is Cedar’s case the first lawsuit ever filed after a student changed their mind.  

Five years ago, songwriter Diane Warren won a lamb for a boy at an auction in Santa Barbara County. The fair refused to let it go home alive. Warren hired Advancing Law for Animals, which helped free the lamb. 

The attorneys made an argument they are using again in the pending federal case, and it concerns a right minors can already exercise.

“This case preserves the legal status quo,” says Shakib. “Minors in California can disaffirm contracts, including contracts with 4-H.” 

Children can break contracts because the law has long considered them incapable of fully understanding what they’ve signed. 

Despite E.L.’s painful experience, she still wants to pursue animal husbandry education. If the attorneys prevail, local officials will acknowledge her right to opt out of any 4-H livestock auction she enters. While the state’s rules have seen revisions for 2023, including the recommendation of a pre-auction “intent to sell” list for children and parents to sign and clearer definitions of terminal and non-terminal auctions, there’s no mention of any such option.

In some states, there’s no need for it.

North Dakota fairs no longer hold kill auctions. In Minnesota, due to changing market demands and trends in consumer purchasing, there’s been a shift to premium auctions where animals are sold but typically go home with the student, who still receives most of the proceeds.

“I have been working with MN 4-H for a number of years and during that time I do not know of any required terminal shows,” Sharon Davis, University of Minnesota 4-H Extension director of animal science, said in an email. “4-H shows in Minnesota are non-terminal, allowing for youth to continue to learn and grow with their projects.”

The officials who had Cedar plucked from sanctuary and returned him to the fairgrounds to be slaughtered claimed to be bound by rules. Perhaps greater awareness of these other options, along with the wave of support for E.L.’s “non-agricultural” view of Cedar, will bring more choice to the rules around kill auctions.

The post 4-H Goat Controversy Raises Questions About Kids and Terminal Livestock Sales appeared first on Modern Farmer.

“[The idea] sounded too silly initially,” Forcella says. But he and a colleague, Dean Peterson, at the USDA North Central Soil Conservation Research Laboratory in Morris, Minnesota, kept batting it around. “Eventually, we bought a cheapo sand blaster and started some simple experiments in a greenhouse.”

Their initial work involved growing weeds next to a corn plant; when the corn was about six inches tall and the weed was about one to three inches tall, the researchers blasted both with a split-second application of grit.

It turned out that only the weeds got hurt. In fact, they vanished, while the corn plant was fine. This prompted a field experiment in 2012 with a bigger sand blaster mounted on an ATV. While Peterson drove, Forcella followed, crouched over with the sand blaster nozzle, blasting pigweed and other pesky sprouts.

These first handheld machines were promising, if not a bit back-breaking for the one doing the blasting. But the researchers were encouraged by the results. So Forcella sought funding to work on a larger machine, and began collaborating with researchers – including Dan Humburg, a professor of agricultural engineering at South Dakota State University – who had the skills to build it.

Two applications – at corn’s three- and five-leaf stages – provide about 80 percent season-long weed control.

After Forcella nabbed a Sustainable Agriculture Research and Education grant for an “Air-Propelled Abrasive Grit Management” system, they set to work on a grit-blasting machine that weeds row crops like corn. The main component of the machine, known as PAGMan, is an air compressor that sends pressurized air to nozzles aimed at the bases of crops. Farm residues, fed into the nozzles, are drawn through the fast-moving air. Most gritty leftovers – from seed meals to nut shells, fruit pits, and corn cob grits – will work. (A current favorite of Forcella’s is granulated poultry manure: “We can weed and feed at the same time,” he says.) PAGMan has four pairs of nozzles and shreds weeds up to two inches high, but it leaves corn plants four inches or taller intact. Two applications – at corn’s three- and five-leaf stages – provide about 80 percent season-long weed control, Forcella says. Field trials with the PAGMan, in corn and soybeans, are taking place this summer in Minnesota and South Dakota to corroborate that.

A second model, the Veggie Blaster, is overseen by Sam Wortman an assistant professor at the University of Nebraska. The machine specializes in vegetables, which have much wider row-spacing. Pulled by a small tractor driven between two rows of vegetables, it kills weeds in a single row. Typically, veggies like tomatoes are grown in trellised rows covered by plastic. As weeds poke through the holes punched in the plastic to transplant seedlings, they are spot-sprayed with grit.

Wortman says they tested the Veggie Blaster in peppers, snap beans, edamame, and zucchini this summer in Illinois. But since this is the first summer the team has experimented with the Veggie Blaster, they can’t share how successful the weed control is yet, he says.

Interest in the method, known as “abrasive weeding,” keeps growing. A two-year field study at the University of Illinois Sustainable Student Farm found the technique may reduce the need for tillage and hand-weeding; and in Spain, a group of collaborators at the University of Seville are developing their version of the Veggie Blaster, which can sense a weed and only turns on when needed.

Exciting, yes, but don’t plan on pre-ordering a weed blaster yet.

“We have no patents on any of this equipment,” Forcella says. “Patents are a lot of work – work that I am not prepared to do. Thus, we more-or-less decided to go the ‘open source’ route. We wanted to float the concept and test the idea. If it works then, hopefully, some company will run with it.”

It’s unclear if equipment companies will invest in the machines, though smaller parts like the nozzle design, might be easier to patent. The main cost is the compressor; the PAGMan’s was $9,000. Forcella expects a retail unit would cost at least $10,000.

On the other hand, home-made units for small operations would likely cost no more than $1,000. Versions of the weed blaster may one day be patented, but for now the public can build their own, Forcella says. “Almost anyone can build a simple rig.”

In fact, given Forcella’s descriptions, Amigo Bob Canistano, a California organic grower and crop advisor, built a veggie blaster for less than $250. It took about three hours. “No major skills needed,” Canistano says, “just common sense.” He bought a sandblaster unit, walnut shell meal, fittings and hose; made a “wand” out of PVC and brass fittings; then attached it to his portable electric air compressor. The device requires a source of electricity, but by mounting it on a cart along with his gas Honda generator, he can now pull it around to a field or trees by hand, tractor or riding lawn mower.

Though grass weeds take repeat applications, with their growing point below ground, Canistano says it works well on others. “If this tool is used at the right timing of weed growth, it is very effective against most weed species, including broadleaf weeds, forbs, start thistle, and scotch broom.”

The post Here’s Something for Organic Farmers to Obliterate Weeds With: Grit appeared first on Modern Farmer.

South Jordan, Utah

EcoScraps recycles organic matter from stores and restaurants, converting it into compost, fertilizer, and potting soil, all sold nationally.

Milwaukee, Wisconsin

Compost Crusader consults with the hosts of festivals, fundraising events, and weddings on how to throw low- or zero-waste affairs. The company provides supplies and removes food scraps, which it incorporates into the compost it makes from residential and commercial pickups.

Montpelier, Vermont

Founded by a network of area farmers who needed high-quality compost for growing fruits and vegetables, Vermont Compost accepts kitchen scraps from eco-conscious consumers, who drop their stuff in a bin at the end of the company’s driveway.

Boston, Massachusetts

The can-do team at Bootstrap Compost co-opts bicycle trailers, hand trucks, and vans to haul food waste from subscribers (condo residents, café owners) to local farms. Once the compost is cured, it’s used on the farms, but subscribers get an allotment for their own gardening projects, too.

Raleigh, North Carolina

Since 2010, CompostNow has helped Research-Triangle and Asheville area residents divert one-third of their household garbage from landfills. The company swaps clean bins out for full ones, and members “earn” portions of the resulting compost, which they can keep or donate to local gardens.

Aberdeen, Maryland

Veteran Compost employs former military servicemen to bring food waste from residences, businesses, and schools in the D.C.-metro area to the firm’s wind-powered farm, where the refuse gets turned into organic compost available for purchase online.

Sacramento, California

The bicycle-powered fleet at nonprofit GRAS/ReSoil Sacramento nabs kitchen scraps from area restaurants and delivers them to local farms, community gardens, and schools to turn into compost for their vegetable plots.

The post 7 Cities with Awesome Independent Composting Programs appeared first on Modern Farmer.

When prices soar on certain commodities, so do thefts. In the first quarter of 2013, metal theft reportedly cost Fresno County, California $1.11 million — more than the entire annual loss for some past years. Even stolen tractors and plows were hacked to bits.

And so, as thieves polish their farm skills, farmers are sharpening their cyber-sabers. They’re also posting signs, patching fences, and taking other simple steps to deter crime.

Luckily we have some sheriff-endorsed ways to wreck a thief’s day.

Farm Security Survey

Some farms have security holes big enough to drive a truck through — stuffed with its goods. To find these holes before thieves do, conduct a survey. In San Luis Obispo County, California, the service is offered through the sheriff’s rural crime prevention program. “We highly recommend conducting a Farm/Ranch Security Survey – and we do get the word out” to this community, says Marsha Mann, a rural crime specialist.

The free survey is performed by another rural crime prevention specialist, Brandy Swain. “Our county has been facing theft from barns, sheds and outbuildings,” she says — often tools, generators and welders. Swain surveys by walking the main property; her advice may include fixing fences, improving lighting around buildings, and posting signs for trespassing. “Most of these suggestions seem like common sense, but are sometimes overlooked,” she says.

For farmers doing their own security survey, the county offers a checklist to help. They recommend working from outer perimeter to interior. Also, take a critical look at your operation at least every six months.

On its rural security planning page, Purdue University says a survey is essential before buying security equipment. Find your risks, then patch the holes.

Take Stock of Your Stuff

Make a list of assets and their approximate value. A good inventory for insurance purposes can be made with a video camera or smart phone. Include vehicle and license plate numbers. Store a copy of records off site.

Keep records current so that if items go missing, they won’t go unnoticed. Case in point: missing cows are often not even missed. It happens to ranchers who don’t take regular counts. The Texas and Southwestern Cattle Raiser’s Association — a trade group whose rangers recover an average of $5 million in stolen cattle for ranchers each year — says tagging or tattooing livestock isn’t enough. Count them, regularly!

Farm Watch

Experts say security comes in layers. It also comes in numbers. A farm watch program, like its urban counterparts, bundles security. The community effort joins rural neighbors, law enforcement and the combined technology of a network.

Farm, ranch and grove watch programs fight crime with extra eyes, security devices, signs and the Internet. Members post photos on Facebook and issue online alerts about stolen property or suspicious persons. The Sonoma County Sheriff’s website mentions some technologies used: email trees; Nixle, a database that tracks local crimes; and Raids Online, a downloadable crime-mapping service. Farmers learn to spot rural crime, which may involve illegal drugs and random clues like discarded cold medicine packages. As the murder of an Alabama farmer who confronted a thief in 2012 makes clear, crimes should be reported, not interrupted.

And if the local sheriff’s department doesn’t have a farm watch program, you can start one.

San Diego, California, has a rural crimes unit, but no farm watch program. And its avocado and citrus groves are big targets. “Groves face particular security issues,” says Brandy Contreras, a county crime prevention specialist.

Since each grove or nursery is topographically unique, security problems vary by site.

According to Contreras, “Most groves cover a large area,” making them hard to protect. “Even with fences, lights and cameras, thieves gain access to groves and nurseries” and steal crops. One farmer told Contreras that all fences do is “tell me thieves have been in my grove.”

Since each grove or nursery is topographically unique, security problems vary by site. And some thefts are well-planned. In a recent heist, which was interrupted, she says, they left behind two-way radios, elaborate picking tools, bags, “and what seemed to be snacks and water for hours of theft.”

Contreras suggest security options such as cameras, painting fruit (using a non-toxic material often used to protect fruit from sunburn, which can’t be quickly removed by thieves), natural barriers around perimeters, requesting extra sheriff patrols in picking season and an informal version of grove watch. That is, being in touch with neighboring growers and reporting thefts and suspicious activity.

“The best thing about farmers is that they have a great network in place already,” Contreras says. But more assistance from sheriffs can be had if farmers ask. “Anyone who is interested in starting a farm watch can contact me,” she says.

Marking (Stamp, Tag and Tattoo)

One favored tool, often rolled into farm watch, is the owner applied number (OAN) program. This FBI-established system helps return stolen property using a unique 10-digit number, identifying the state, county and owner. The permanent number can be stamped on everything from tractors to tools. Equipment can be recovered from anywhere in the U.S.

The number also deters theft, notes the Sonoma County sheriff’s website. “It has been proven that thieves are hesitant to take items that can be readily identified.”

The San Luis Obispo Farm Bureau points out that, of the hundreds of pieces of equipment stolen recently, few had serial numbers.

Also, using other methods, mark livestock. “Let thieves know your livestock is permanently marked” by posting signs, urges Tulare County, California’s rural crime page. The California Farm Bureau has a list of vendors selling marking supplies, such as tire branders and ear tattoo kits.

Cameras

Video surveillance systems include cameras, monitors and recorders. For best results, integrate them with detection devices like motion sensors that trigger an alarm and activate the video recorder.

San Luis Obispo Farm bureau recommends a 40-pixel or higher camera/video system for clear images. Most of these cameras and alarms can sync with a smart phone for activation on or off site. Install equipment in hidden places and in areas where break-ins are likely.

In San Diego, some growers are trying laser trippers and infrared cameras, new technology that Deputy District Attorney Elisabeth Silva has promoted at Farm Bureau safety fairs.

Sargent Patrick Shannon, with the rural crime unit, says they’ve had “some limited success” with the technology. Recently, they captured important vehicle data related to a repeat offender. The images weren’t clear enough to read a license plate, but provided other details. That thief hasn’t returned.

Silva, who prosecutes rural crimes, has scored other successes. An avocado thief’s face was recorded on infrared camera, with date and time stamp, on his fourth — and last — visit. The detective identified him from the photo and he confessed.

Locks, Lights, Gates

Locks: To cheat the bolt-cutter, weld a metal cover over the hasp to protect padlocks from being cut, suggests the San Luis Obispo Farm Bureau. Lock storage areas with padlocks, hasps and deadbolts. And don’t just have locks ”“- use them.

Lights: Thieves hate bright lights, notes the Sonoma County Sheriff’s website. Wattage aside, are you illuminating the right places? Light critical areas: fuel tanks, grain bins, buildings. Night is a thief’s cloak. Place motion sensor lighting around the perimeter of shops and outbuildings to spotlight them. Keep outside lights on automatic timers. Prune shrubbery that blocks light sources.

Gates: Fortify gate hinges that can be easily removed. Secure access roads with gates or cables stretched between posts cemented in the ground. Secure gates with chains and locks. Gates can also be topped, like Alcatraz, with strands of barbed wire.

Pivots or Plastic

As metal prices soar, copper wiring on pivot irrigation systems is a thief magnet. One antidote is the Pivot Alarm, a solar-powered irrigation alarm that monitors pivots to detect tampering.

A simpler fix is to replace brass with plastic on irrigation systems. Plastic pipes don’t work as well as metal ones, but plastic won’t work for metal-vultures, either.

Photo Illustration by Norman Conquest.

The post 9 Tools to Fight Farm Crime appeared first on Modern Farmer.

The diets these goods create are typically raw meat, bones, fruits and vegetables. Racing greyhounds and sled dogs have long eaten this way. In 1993, the book “Give Your Dog a Bone,” by veterinarian Ian Billinghurst brought the idea to pet owners. “Raw meaty bones” are the staples; a balance of calcium and phosphorus from the bones and meat in, say, turkey necks. But some cook the meat and diets can be tailored to the dog’s needs (and whatever makes their eyes light up).

Those who go raw without support sometimes get nostalgic for bagged kibble. Its availability and ease of handling are still unmatched. In the realm of DIY raw, food co-ops can provide much needed support to beginners.

According to the Pet Food Institute, the first commercial pet food was an English biscuit that arrived in America in the 1890s. The “dog cake” later took the shape of a bone but the flour concoction marked a move toward foods ill-suited to carnivores. In the 1950s equipment used to make breakfast cereals was adapted for making dry pet foods. This growing industry also created profitable new markets for American farm products ”“ and for byproducts of the meat packing, poultry and other food industries. Kibble became the standard meal for pet dogs and today the Pet Food Institute estimates that about 95 percent of the calorie intake of pet dogs and cats in the United States comes from commercial pet food.

But pet food recalls and the local/organic food trend got pet owners interested in providing their dogs with a higher quality feed. By shortening the farm-to-bowl chain, many owners feel they can rule out many of the toxic traces of industrial food production. Some also claim that raw diets help dogs suffering from cancer and even allergies.

Proponents also argue that dogs evolved to eat primarily raw foods, mainly meat and bones, not starchy overcooked grains. The benefits of approximating that diet, many say, include healthier skin and coats, cleaner teeth, more energy and less poop.

Still, a raw dog diet is not touted by all.

Many veterinarians, and the FDA, discourage raw feeding due to threats from bacteria. Studies in veterinary journals have documented the risks. Some long-time raw feeders point out that bacteria (salmonella, for one) is also a problem in commercial pet food. Other risks are feeding an unbalanced diet and the potential for whole bones to cause choking, break teeth or puncture an organ.

Then there’s the cost. Feeding organic or human-grade meats is expensive. By purchasing fewer organic products the cost can be roughly that of high-end kibble, some say. To keep costs down, they also buy in bulk and split purchases with others. But buying in bulk may mean buying a bigger freezer. Other costs include tools like a meat grinder, mixing bowls, and a meat cleaver that can cut through bone.

Risks and learning curve aside, more people are taking on the challenge. There are now dozens of dog food coops around the country. Here are the stories of just a few of those co-ops.

Kona Raw Pet Food Co-op

Geography shapes the foodshed that fuels this non-profit in Holualoa, Hawaii. “We are an island with limited resources,” says founder Sandra Scarr. “Most of our food is imported from the mainland and abroad.”

Certain things are off the menu, like chicken, lamb and pork because there is no slaughterhouse on the island that processes them. There is, however, grass-fed beef. Scarr sources her goods from a slaughterhouse, Hawaii Beef Productions, which processes from about a dozen ranches on the Big Island.

Members pay $5.00 to join the co-op, which has a 5 percent mark-up over wholesale prices to cover supplies (baggies, knives, scales). Volunteer members pick up, cut and sort the meat, which is ordered weekly. According to Scarr, the co-op buys more beef, pound-wise than local grocery stores. They also buy feral meat.

“Ranchers like to get rid of feral animals that compete with their cattle for grass, says Scarr.

These animals, slaughtered in the field, aren’t USDA-inspected or approved for human consumption.

According to Scarr, when the co-op started, “many parts of the cow were going to the landfill because people didn’t want them, and there is no rendering plant in Hawaii.” The slaughterhouse paid to dispose of about half of every cow which limited what they could pay ranchers for their cows.

In its four years, Kona Raw has added more than 200 members. Scarr says ranchers can’t keep up with the demand for parts such as heart, tongue, and cheek meat, substituting shoulder clods, brisket and other more plentiful parts instead.

“We’re trying to get ranchers to keep more cattle here,” she says.

Austin Raw Feeders Co-op (ARF)

Behind every dog food co-op is the ghost of BARF. The unappetizing acronym stands for “Biologically Appropriate Raw Food,” the original raw pet diet promoted by veterinarian Ian Billinghurst.

Texas-based ARF, established in 2003, has many followers of BARF, which relies heavily on raw meaty bones (such as poultry necks). Others feed the “prey-model,” thought to resemble a wild diet, such as whole rabbits. Some cook the meat or stick to other diets.

ARF also holds canine play days and diet classes; one course helps BARF feeders figure out what to feed, and how much.

Because there is no commercial cold storage to rent in Austin, food must be delivered to a member’s house or workplace by refrigerated truck, or the member may meet the supplier then take the meat back to the co-op for disbursal the same day.

Farmers are helped by the co-op using their “collective economic power to make direct bulk purchases from many suppliers” according to the organization’s website.

San Francisco Raw Feeders (SFRAW)

Launched in 2003, SFRAW claims to be the largest resource in California for fresh-feeders, thanks to a bounty of local, sustainable farms. Founder Kasie Maxwell started SFRAW as a way to affordably feed her Great Danes, turtles and cats a raw diet.

The non-profit focuses on local, pastured and organic producers. Maxwell sources humanely raised meats. The co-op finds bargains by buying an organic farm’s “B” birds, for example; whole birds that don’t meet size or shape standards.

Each year, members pay $80 and volunteer eight hours. Members – who come from all over Northern California – order online from a vast selection of human grade meat, bones, prepared raw foods, and more. They also have weekly warehouse sales.

One long-time supplier, James Ranch, run by Lance and Gay Columbel, raises pastured lamb in the Sierra foothills. Maxwell “personally sources her products and does her best to accommodate the individual farms,” Gay says. “We supply basic products such as bones, organs and mutton” that have a limited market for human use. SFRAW is a solid link in a marketing strategy “that enables us to sustain our sheep enterprise,” she says.

“Because we’re so small, it’s important for us to use everything from our animals.”

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