Thoughts on SOIL four years on

It's been just about four years since my girlfriend and I flew out to Nova Scotia to start my SOIL apprenticeship, and about three and a quarter since we capped that apprenticeship by driving back to BC in a '91 Dodge Spirit that we bought for two hundred bucks. We did that over six weeks. In minus twenty winter weather. And it turned out that the car's heater didn't work. And it had to be towed to a wrecker the day after we reached Vancouver. But that's a story for a blog called My Life as a Dumb Idiot.

OK, so four years ago, Vanessa and I applied to do a SOIL apprenticeship. Not because we wanted to be farmers. We just wanted to see food production through a farmer's eyes. The day I was to leave for Nova Scotia, my dad only half-jokingly warned me that I had better not be thinking of farming as a career. I assured him he had nothing to worry about.

As I write this in February 2011 I can look out the window on the farm on which I reside (I'd love to be able to say 'our farm' but this is a leasing situation) at the small piece of land Vanessa and I will use for our nascent market garden this spring. In BC's interior. Can we call ourselves full-blown farmers yet? Hard to say. Most of our income will come from farming this year. So, maybe?



Anyway. In getting from there to here, Vanessa and I did two SOIL apprenticeships. The first was an organic livestock operation in the Annapolis Valley in Nova Scotia. The second was a two acre market garden with a tiny bit of everything else (orchard, livestock, bakery, flowers) on Vancouver Island. The owner of the latter asked us to stay on a second year, along with two other apprentices, to farm as a partnership. Which, on the whole, went really well. We then spent a season on our bikes touring farms in Eastern North America.

So here are my thoughts on SOIL and apprenticing: an excellent idea, and a lot of fun, as long as you use your noggin. Going in, you need to be very honest with yourself about what your goals are, and even more honest about the terms and conditions of under which you're willing to live, work and learn. While on Vancouver Island I coordinated monthly workshops for apprentices in the region for two years, and so I got to know a lot of of them. Here are some observations I've made:

• Too many apprentices (including myself) go into the farm selection process wearing rose-coloured glasses. They're bursting with enthusiasm and idealism, and trust that the apprentice-gods will ensure that their apprenticing experience will be fruitful and rewarding. So they're not diligent about researching the farm into which they're about to pour six months of love and hard labour for a financial pittance. Some are also unrealistic about the living conditions they'll be able to handle. Not everyone is suited to living in the same house as strangers. Or using an outhouse for four months. Or sharing a bunkhouse with other apprentices. I think that required reading for anyone considering a farming apprenticeship are the couple of chapters George Henderson devotes to the subject in The Farming Ladder. The book is out of print but can be downloaded from the SOIL and Health Library. I challenge any SOIL applicant to be as thorough in their farm selection process as Henderson was.
  
• The best way to avoid apprenticing on a farm that's not right for you? Read SOIL's resource materials, and take them seriously. They've been written by people who have been through the process, and are trying to help you avoid the mistakes they made. Also, take advantage of the SOIL Ambassadors project, which gives you the option of having a former apprentice help you select your farm.
  
• Expect to work very hard. And much of your learning will be hands-on, which is a euphemism for hard, sweaty labour. But you're an apprentice, not a farm-hand. There's a difference. Your farm host should appreciate that. You can make sure they do by asking them to articulate it. If you're not satisfied with that articulation, that should be a red flag.
  
  
  
  
  Here are the do-overs I'd want, if I could have them:
  

• Since I didn't intend to be a farmer at the time, I was kind of wimpy about learning certain skills during my first apprenticeship. I told myself it was because I was worried about damaging equipment or hurting animals or myself, so I shied away from the following: operating the hay-mower and baler; limiting my role in the slaughter/dressing process; chainsawing; shearing sheep. All skills I wish I had now, or had to develop at a greater price later on. You're giving a lot of your labour away to learn, so be willing to put yourself out of your comfort zone to learn as much as you can.
• There were some vague promises about one type of financial compensation for one of my apprenticeships that I didn't push for clarity on out of a desire to avoid awkwardness and not be seen to be lacking trust in my host. Dumb move. You know why I bolded that? Because if you do that, you will vastly increase your chances for disappointment or resentment later on. More communication up front means less misunderstandings later on.

To anyone reading this, I hope you have a wonderful apprenticeship. For Vanessa and me, it was a great way to build the skills necessary to become farmers. And you will have a good time, if you're honest with yourself about what you're looking for and find the farm that is offering just that. Good luck!

Oh, and I have a website now that features cool small-scale farming innovations: The Ruminant. Please check it out!