Publisher's Note
A number of my friends are asking the reasonable question, “Should we stay and fight for the values we hold, or should we move our families to someplace safer, with more freedom?” It’s an understandable query and one that I think about, too. The Supreme Court is now an agent of chaos, the federal government lacks the conviction to address climate change, and gun violence plagues our communities with numbing regularity. It’s a lot to confront both individually and together.
Throughout my life, I have cultivated and grown a community in Mendocino County. I lent my efforts to the localization movement, attending seemingly endless meetings to identify the needs of our local food system, and learned how we could be more resilient and self-sufficient. With like-minded neighbors, we explored what actions we could take locally to reduce our carbon footprint. We strengthened relationships and the community fabric, potluck by potluck. I’ve made my decision and it is to stay, to keep building on the strong foundation here. This issue is filled with stories of people doing just that, people who recognize, as the cover states, that “wherever we’re going, we’re going together.”
The Mendocino Cannabis Alliance (p 11) is one inspiring example. Our state is in danger of killing the golden goose as draconian regulations combined with a corporate-funded oversupply of product have compounded the difficulties faced by small farmers. Yet by joining forces on a shared retail platform and building on collective strengths, this organization helps cannabis farmers reach new markets and build a customer base that can sustain them into the future.
This interconnectedness is also reflected at Meadow Farm (p 23), a property near Fort Bragg, which exists as a land trust and intentional community. Residents and volunteers are literally digging in to grow fresh vegetables for themselves and the local food bank, as well as investing in emergency preparedness to build resilience. In a similar vein, Farmer Gowan Batist (p 38) ruminates on the intricate web of predator, prey, and animal caretaker, and how to keep the ecosystem we share in balance. And fish catchers and other local businesses come together monthly for a community market at Noyo Harbor (p 41) to sell directly to locals.
This “stronger together” concept is metaphorically captured by artist and plant expert Saoirse Byrne, who shares her explorations of the craft of cordage (p 31), twisting fabrics and plant fibers to form lengths of twine or rope that are exponentially stronger than their individual parts. By sharing these tales of collaboration and community interconnectedness in the face of our challenges, we can learn how to survive and thrive together. We may envy the healthcare system, climate action, or government mettle of faraway lands, but I celebrate those who are digging in, building relationships, and fighting the good fight here. I’ll be right alongside you.
Warmly,
Holly Madrigal
Publisher
In the Summer 2022 issue, the image of Elyse and David Hopps, owners of Izakaya Gama, should have been attributed to Caroline Ducato. Our apologies, Caroline.