Bakom Dig

Prosperity
by Michelle de la Vega

This crisp spring morning we picked up our gallon of raw milk from 6th generation dairy farmer Randy who lives on the farm he grew up on. A beautiful blue crystal eyed sixty something-ish man whose wife Wendy loves to draw.Pencil mostly, of farm scenes that she makes into greeting cards for sale.Randy feels quiet and open. We stood outside petting his year old border collie pup Mac while he told us how his daughter recently lost her baby that was 5 days overdue. She fell down the stairs, and now Wendy is drawing pictures of the black haired baby, black hairlike you he said. He told us the pounds and inches, and that and they are planning the burial on the farm at the edge of the grove of trees. His daughter has picked out a headstone.

I stood on that picturesque heritage farm, heart holding space for Randy, and all that embodies the beauty and hardship of rural life.

I stand, and think what it means to embody my brown skin, full with empathy and question marks and hope in this place where 99.16% of farmers operators and land owners are white. Their children will inherit their lands, and have a place to live out their lives of joy and sadness.