Reflections of the South Central Farmers Co-op

I had made up my mind to head down to the South Central Farm for the summer and I had no idea what to expect. I figured since I was moving out of my apartment that I could use it as an opportunity to devote the whole summer as an act of solidarity and to build a critical relationship with SCF Co-op. The external experience was simple but it was a catalyst for an internal experience that was far more rich and complex.
The action of planting a seed, watering the fields, picking vegetables, listening to the workers stories, dealing with extreme heat, going to sleep too tired to eat, waking up at the butt crack of dawn, working some long days, being away from friends and loved ones, being alone, eating alone, and so many other events too long to catalog, enriched me so much that it has been three weeks since I've been back and I'm still affected by the introspection of such an experience. On the third day I felt the full impact of what I should expect for the rest of the summer and I was ready to go back home with my tail tucked between my legs. I was so sore from picking and packing the watermelons. It was like throwing medicine balls all day in hot dry weather. Of course, it wasn't the only job we had that day. I hustled my ass off so that I would be taken serious as a volunteer. I wanted to work as hard as the seasoned farmers that have been in the struggle. I didn't want to come back to L.A and have everyone ask me "what happened" or "I thought you were in Bakersfield". I had also made a promise to myself that I would go through with the action, so I stayed.
I came to be up close and personal with the workers and I heard several stories that would be worthy of their own short stories. The house itself had a certain character. When I first arrived I felt the house to be sad and not very homely. Of course with everyone busting their asses off on the farm no one had the opportunity to pick up the place or set up a banner that read "Welcome to SCF Co-op". Not my expectation of course. But I did feel the need to liven the place a bit. I remember casually mentioning this to one of the administrators and he actually cleaned the place up and this being after he had returned from an ass kicking hot day on the farm. I felt that deserved some serious reciprocity on my behalf.
One of the strongest implications I reflected on was the healing and empowerment of undergoing such an intense internship. I will be writing on these issue further as well as the topics of Rites of Passage, Initiation, and Independent Agriculture as the catalyst for Popular Education or Autonomous Education. I will be touching on these subjects in part II of this blog.

Peace and good juju to all