Driven by tradition, mission

Last month, I said I’d talk more about Mhonpaj’s approach to farming. Before we start, I’d like to point out that while I refer to Mhonpaj a lot, it would be more accurate to refer her entire family. I have met or at least spotted a dozen family members so far that pitch in an unknown amount of labor, and after having spent more time with Mhonpaj’s mother May, I understand better her crucial role as Chief Farmer at Mhonpaj’s Garden.

Mhonpaj’s Garden was born out of a combination of tradition and necessity. Mhonpaj says that her family gardens because that’s just what they do. It’s their lifestyle. When I asked her if they had any employees, she laughed. She reassured me that there are no employees; family members do most of the work, with occasional outside help from neighbors and a mission trip. They don’t strive to make a profit, she said, just to make enough money to buy seeds for the next year. Still, they won’t budge on $3 a tray for their organic potatoes because of the work that goes into picking off bugs by hand. They know how much their produce is worth and they don’t undersell themselves.

On the one hand, this mindset releases Mhonpaj from the treadmill of continually trying to increase profit for the sake of “growth” and “shareholders,” but on the other, it makes an off-farm job a necessity. I’m not sure how Mhonpaj manages to balance work at HCMC with all the work generated by the farm and her ambition, and I have no idea how her parents spend their time in the winter.

I’ve heard hints of the challenges Mhonpaj’s Garden faces. Marketing is a challenge common to all farmers who realize its necessity, and there’s always room for improvement. In one of our first conversations, Mhonpaj mentioned that her goal for the CSA was a hundred members. At the St. Paul Farmers Market this weekend, a customer asked May how many members they had. "Fourteen," May said. At the White Bear Lake Farmers Market, another customer told us we needed more signage proclaiming our USDA Organic certification. “You need signs out here,” she said, “not just that little one back there,” indicating the seal on the banner behind us.

Another challenge is finding land to own. David Washburn, from whom they rent, has no plans to sell his land. According to Mhonpaj, he knows that the value is going to keep increasing and thinks that whoever would buy it wouldn’t be able to keep up with property taxes. Eventually, he believes, they would be forced to sell the land and it would be “developed.” From what Mhonpaj said, it sounds like his long-term goal is to build up a community of farmers who rent from him and show commitment to the land. Then, someone (Washburn himself? A community member?) would create a nonprofit that would own the land, keeping the taxes down.

So it seems to me that Mhonpaj’s Garden is a curious blend of subsistence, organic, and mission-driven agriculture. It started as the traditional way to make a living, but Mhonpaj has adapted to the Minnesota food system. The farm is certified organic, which is a big deal to some customers. They operate a CSA, which is a hallmark of a regional food system (I’m not sure that it should be, but that’s another topic entirely). They donate to the Emergency Food Shelf Network, our culture’s preferred method for disposing of leftover produce (versus throwing it away). They have a website (maintained by yours truly) so that customers can learn more about the story behind the produce.

In these ways, Mhonpaj’s Garden distinguishes itself from other Hmong farms and integrates itself into the dominate culture’s local food movement paradigm. I think I need more exposure to other Hmong farmers to draw more complete conclusions. Too bad I don’t speak the language.

Photo by Joan Benjamin, from the Summer/Fall 2009 Issue of the Newsletter of the NCR-SARE.

Updated 8/30/10.