Farm aid is mostly known for Willie Nelson, amazing music, and a massive amount of money raised to support farmers. But the event is more than an incredibly crowded music festival: it’s a multiple-day forum for advocates, farmers, and policymakers to strategize and share stories. This is a space where big ag meets small farm, where the tedium and grit of everyday farming is enough to justify a voice in national politics.
Last week, Farm Aid came to nearby Saratoga Springs, NY. On Friday, the organizers hosted “a rural call to action” with speakers and participants from all over the country. At the outset, one of the emcees, Dania Davy, articulated the commonality of the room: “Everyone in here cares about farmers.” But as the day unfolded, it was clear that the room possessed far more than just a concern about farmers. One of the many extraordinary people there sat at our table: Angela Ferguson, a traditional corn grower of Onondaga Nation Farm. Angela spoke about the honor she had of receiving a seed bank once possessed by Carl “White Eagle” Barnes, which contained thousands of varieties of native heritage corn seeds. Angela is also the founder of Braiding the Sacred, an organization of indigenous corn growers working for food sovereignty and seed saving. She spoke of the vibrancy of the agricultural work in her community and how some non-native people are returning their land back to tribal communities for farming.
Midway through the day, another extraordinary person--the keynote speaker--Maurice Mitchell, President of the Working Families Party, reminded the room that we can work with people who are different from us if we are in pursuit of a common goal. As he spoke, I looked around the room, witnessing how a common desire for a thriving food system pulled people from so many different places, farm types, cultures, and economic backgrounds.
At the end of the day, Larry Long, a singer-songwriter and activist got on stage and, in good folk music tradition, sang his way through a story about a tractor brigade (“tractorcade”) that descended on Washington D.C. in 1978. His tale and accompanying slides were amazing and as he spoke, it dawned on me that the work we do as farmers and food system advocates is part of a much longer and wider trajectory than I realized. In the 1978 demonstration against big ag, nearly 1000 tractors drove to D.C. from hundreds of miles away in the depths of winter. And, in that eerie way that history makes loops upon itself, Larry described an abrasive police presence, barricading the tractors and blocking the farmers from protesting. But then, as if this story were crafted for children with the farmer as the hero, a huge blizzard descended on D.C., shutting down everything and creating city-wide emergencies. In an ironic twist in which the farmers proved just how much the country needed them, the tractors were essential to digging the city out from the epic storm, and the tale ended with farmers saving many lives.
But the story didn’t quite end there. A farmer from Connecticut drove to this Farm Aid gathering in 2024 on his own tractor, carrying his own story of hardship. In August, large hail fell for over 13 minutes over William DellaCamera’s farm, destroying every crop, and causing nearly a complete loss on his 125-acre farm. In a tale too familiar to many farmers, especially after the recent Vermont floods, William found himself caught in the web of claiming losses and talking to adjusters, without any substantial help or answers. He also knows he is not the first to feel this intense frustration and grief. So, he made his way to Washington D.C. to face politicians, share his story, and ask for real help.
So much about farming is hard, and only getting harder with the climate crisis and the pressures small farmers face from corporate ag. We all know that talk isn’t enough, but when the words come from the mouths of incredible people who are already doing so much, and are heading out to do more, there is a glimmer of hope. And, when 21,500 people show up for a fundraiser for farm aid and cheer wildly at images of farmers, we can fill our souls with the vibrancy of a movement, and enjoy great music.
