finished finals finally

Here is a paper I recently wrote for my Concepts of Self in Classical Indian Literature class, taught by Prof. Scharf. It wasn't a very good paper, I'm aware - because I wrote the damn thing in a few hours during finals. Anyway the topic was completely insane - something like "Develop your own thesis of what the Self is, what the phenomenal world is, and what enlightenment is and how it can be reached, and compare that to the philosophies of Buddhism, Yoga, and Vedanta. 8 - 10 pages." I'm just posting this because somebody needs to kick the summer off right with a crappy finals essay, and maybe it will give me impetus to reread my work for once. Note to Barthes: Please forgive me for mangling you to fit my own cheap, callow purposes.
I got a B on the paper; I'll post Scharf's comments when I can find the actual paper.

Tyler Henry
CL 99
Final Paper
Due 5/11/05
The Un-Concept of Self

It is not difficult to elucidate in writing the act of writing itself. Yet through the process of that elucidation, no conclusion is reached. The reader is only made aware of the existence of the text and the fact that she is reading it. Furthermore, if she depends on the text’s explanation of itself – the meta-commentary – for her understanding, she can never escape the totalizing discourse of the text. Therefore, the act of writing is knowable but unexperienceable while reading – all that is experienceable is the continuity of reading. Even so, the text is, in this way, created both “before” and, presently, by (or at least propagated by) the individual reader (or subjective self). In fact, it might be said that the “readerly text”[1] is the same as the “reader,” as they propagate one another’s existence. This notion of totalizing textual meta-commentary is immediately akin to philosophical discourse, meta-physics, and modern cultural criticism – it analyzes what is normally taken for granted: the act of the writing of the “text” that is the “world” or “universe” or “phenomenology.” Yet this sort of meta-commentary necessarily retains the original structure that has already been naturalized within the subjective self, in order that it convey some sort of idea from one subjective self to another – it must lie within certain knowable delineations. The “true” Self – or Atman – on the other hand, is closer to what Barthes called the “writerly text”[2] – the complete-lack of structure – the origin and the telos (and therefore the non-narrative). The Self “is” the indifference of the subject and the un-difference of the object – as they are one in the same. This sense is best conveyed through paradox, for delineated logic cannot comprehend it:

The saint, O Vaccha, who has been released from what is styled form, is deep, immeasurable, unfathomable, like the mighty ocean. To say that he is reborn would not fit the case. To say that he is not reborn would not fit the case. To say that he is both reborn and not reborn would not fit the case. To say that he is neither reborn nor not reborn would not fit the case. [3]

Realization of this Self, therefore, must not take place through knowledge alone, because knowledge can only take place though (and therefore as a propagation of) structural definition (or “styled form”). Structural definition is only a convenient way of naming “things,” and these “things” are really only defined as a lack – there is no substance “behind” the name. “Verily now, your majesty, the word chariot is a mere empty sound. What chariot is there here?”[4] The name only creates the object through difference. This is the “readerly text,” whereas the “true” Self – the nothing AND everything “behind” the words – is the “writerly text.” “Consciousness,” or world experience, is a mixture of the “writerly text” and the “readerly text” to one degree or another. The concept of self to which I ascribe in order to “live within the world” predicates a linear, narrative (knowable) experience, for “I” am delineated as an (otherwise null AND full) object. The Buddhist tradition maintains: “…In the absolute sense there is no living entity there to form a basis for such figments as “I am,” or “I”; in other words, that in the absolute sense there is only name and form.”[5] Yet though the knowledge of this, as delineated, reasonable knowledge, is still limiting, it is possible to use knowledge as a guide in order to let go of knowledge. This is called Samadhi to the followers of Yoga and Buddhism, and it is both a practice and a state. However, Samadhi is not necessarily total and permanent – that would be instead the state of Kaivalya or Nirvana or Brahman described respectively by the Yoga, Buddhism, and Vedanta traditions.
The present moment in the “readerly text” is defined as the conjunction of past and future, which is dependant upon the idea of a narrative – conversely, the origin of the present, which is constructed just like the idea of a chariot, is the past and the telos of the present, constructed in exactly the same way, is the future. Yet in the “writerly text,” there is no distinction between past and future and therefore, there is no present moment. It is not fair to say therefore that the Self is eternal, because that invokes a delineated sense of time. The Self is and is not contained within time. It is contained within time from identification with the subjective self – the “I” – but the true Self is timeless.

In Buddhism, existence is expressed as a succession, for nothing is permanent: “…it remains a fact and the fixed and necessary constitution of being that all its constituents are transitory”[6] and, later, “nothing here exists but what has its own antecedents.”[7] In this way, the idea of “things” creates the idea of a narrative – whatever can be said to exist is only the present result of its existential cause, and it, in turn, is a cause to the future moment. This is the idea of “dependant origination.” Everyone and everything is in a state of becoming, not being, nor non-being. This can be understood as a conjunction between the “readerly” and “writerly text” – the “readerly text” is in this way a derivative of the “writerly text.” The readerly text is the projection of continuity and/or death onto the non-narrative of the writerly text. This complicated idea, and, again, it is something that can only be described and analyzed in terms (such as “dependant origination” or “succession”) that delineate it to make it knowable. However, once the truth is defined, it is no longer truth – it is only “empty sound.” As the Mahayana tradition says, “I, according to my ability,/ Have briefly demonstrated the principles of representation only;/ Among these all [other] kinds,/ Difficult to think, are reached by Buddhas [alone].”[8]

On the other hand, Buddhism tries to outline truth with the Four Noble Truths – the second and most important of which is that desire causes suffering. By desire is meant “the craving for existence, the craving for non-existence.”[9] This does not necessarily mean, however, that the craver wishes herself to exist or not exist, although that too is implied in the greater interpretation, which is that there is an “ideation”[10] (structural definition) which propagates senses of eternity and finality, when really “existence” is continuous flowing, like an ocean current, but with neither start nor end (or the start is the end), for the flowing is in no direction and all directions at once.

The question of the relationship of the “writerly text” to the “readerly text” that is implicated here makes up the major differences between the four major schools of Buddhism – Vaibhasika, Sautrantika, Yogacara, and Madhyamika – which are broken up into the two categories of Theravada and Mahayana. In short, the disagreement is on what “exists” and to what extent “we” perceive what exists. This, however, is misled philosophy. Existence and perception are the same thing, and they propagate each other just as the reader “creates” the text she is reading and the text “creates” the reader. So, then what is outside of the readerly text?

The un-concept. Unfortunately, it is indescribable, and therefore the repressive un- must be added to the concept (which signifies a birth) in order to repress the concept (the birth, life, death, and afterlife). The concept still lingers, however – though an idea of its disavowal may be passed on. In fact, this is how the concept itself works – it is conversely a disavowal of the un-concept. It is the demarcation of boundaries, which leads to the introduction of laws in the name of the Fear of the crossing of those boundaries – laws such as the “social contract.” It is interesting in this light how each of the philosophies of Buddhism, Yoga and Vedanta delineate strict laws concerning the Realization of the Self (accession to the “writerly text”). What is the merit to adhering to strict laws, and how will that lead to Realization? On the contrary, it seems that Realization is the reconciliation of the un-concept with the concept, to no longer disavow either of them but no longer create a difference between the two. Yet they are neither void, nor one, nor two, nor all three of those, nor the opposite.

The Yoga system, at its extreme, maintains a dualist philosophy and, thus, that Realization is only the untangling of the confusion that leads the Self – Purusa (passive consciousness) - to associate itself with the embodied-self, which is in fact a manifestation of active Nature – Prakrti. All action – and therefore all suffering – is a result of this ignorant yoking. In this sense, Purusa could be associated with the “writerly text” and Prakrti could be associated with the “readerly text.” In chapter 1 of the Yoga Sutra it becomes apparent that the de-confusion of Consciousness and Nature is achieved in ultimate Samadhi: “By the suppression of [residual potencies], too, all beings suppressed, comes the seedless trance.”[11] The “suppression of residual potencies” aspect of this step of Samadhi is interestingly similar to the repressionist aspect of the un-concept and the concept. The “trance” is the word used to denote non-thinking, or the withering of the structured world – or in other words, “attenuating afflictions… nescience, egoism, attachment, aversion, and love of life.”[12] Finally, the trance is seedless (even though it “comes” “by the suppression”), because, again, it is the origin and the telos.

With the description of the absolutely independent state of Kaivalya, which is comparable to the ultimate Samadhi, there arises in Yoga the question: What happens to Prakrti once the Purusa becomes independent? And, How many Purusas are there? These questions are akin to the discrepancies raised by the four schools of Buddhism. And, of course, the Answer is unknowable, for truth, again, cannot be delineated and remain truth. Yet if the “readerly text” or the Prakrti is taken to construct both “reader” (character) and text, and as such is the narrative derivative of the “writerly text,” it does not matter how “many” Purusas there are nor what happens to Prakrti in Kaivalya. Suffice it to say that “existence,” which is just structural definition, no longer exists as it is no longer read.

Vedanta takes a similar stance as Yoga (and even, through the un-concept, Buddhism), even though it argues only for its own stance, based on scriptural truth. The invocation of scripture immediately applies to the idea of a “readerly” and “writerly text.” This scripture should be at first taken as the “readerly text,” although, upon second glance, Vedanta argues that it is in fact authorless – and therefore at least akin to the “writerly text” (as the writerly text is without authorship – without limitation or attribution). The scripture argues for the unity of all things in Brahman. Brahman must be thought of in this light as the reconciliation (of the un-concept and the concept). Everything is Brahman, and every-not-thing is Brahman as well. This is a similar view to Yoga and Buddhism insofar as it attempts to dissuade an ignorance based on delimitation. According to the scripture, “all-knowing Brahman is the cause of the world.”[13] The all-knowing aspect of Brahman invoked her recalls the pure consciousness aspect of Purusa – and also it recalls the “writerly text,” which is not limited by definition and is therefore all-knowing (and without knowledge, like kaivalya). The description of Brahman as the cause of the world (and also, the world itself) is like the origin which is also the telos.

It is apparent that all three of these philosophies are attempting to describe the indescribable. Yet it is impossible to convey the “writerly text,” because to do so is to turn it into the “readerly text” – to delineate and define it. Realization of the Truth, which is the indefinable, therefore can only occur through the “cessation” of the “craving for existence, craving for non-existence.” Knowledge cannot in itself be Realization, but it may point out the workings of the “readerly text.” Realization, on the other hand, must be “seedless,” like the trance of ultimate Samadhi.

[1] Barthes, Roland, 1970, S/Z: An Essay, 4
[2] Ibid., 4
[3] Radhakrishnan, Sarvepalli, 1967, A Sourcebook in Indian Philosophy, 291
[4] Ibid., 283
[5] Ibid., 285
[6] Ibid., 273
[7] Ibid., 285
[8] Ibid., 333
[9] Ibid., 274
[10] Ibid., 328
[11] Ibid., 462
[12] Ibid., 462
[13] Ibid., 513

RE: TV show

This is a "real" correspondence between Matt Vascellaro and me concerning his upcoming T.V. show. I do not know the guy beyond being the boyfriend of my friend, who I believe in fact suggested to Matt that he contact me. She has since described his attitude towards his work as "really, really, really serious," a claim which is evidenced below. I then asked her if it would be okay for me to come to a shoot on psychedelics in a rodent costume. She said no, but I think she meant yes. This might be a little humorous if you know the parties involved and/or are drunk on Mint Juleps.

From: Vascellaro, Matthew
Sent: Sat 5/7/2005 5:17 PM
To: Henry, Tyler
Subject: TV show

Hey man,
Since white brown friends is over, we're launching a new TV show next semester. It's going to be a mocumentary about student government and we're planning on turning it into a GISP. Part of that involves finding kids who would be down to help out with the technical stuff. Since Kent Haines and myself want to act in it, we're looking for 3 or 4 technically people to rotate between sound design and working camera stuff. We're going to shoot it with two cameras similtaneously so we need a few people. So the technical people would be part of the GISP and get credit for doing it, and I was wondering if you'd like to do it.

The time commitment is going to be reasonable. The idea of getting several technical people is allow people to rotate. Part of the GISP would be Kent and I "instructing" or rather just telling you guys what we've learned from a year and half of WBF's about technical things ranging from framing, white balance, iris control etc...After that there would be a good amount of creative freedom for the technical people.

I think the idea is that we'd do an episode about ever two weeks. The first week is reheral with the actors and the second week would be about 4 days of filming total ( a day consisting of two hours at most of filming). You would probably only have to be there for 2 or 3 days out of that.

Anyway I hope this is somethign that interest you

MAtt

--------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Henry, Tyler
Sent: Sun 5/8/2005 6:37 PM
To: Vascellaro, Matthew
Subject: RE: TV show


Dear Matt,

You seersucking son of a dogfart. I would love to be involved in your rotten production, given that your neat description is a button cockeyed and still reeks of last night's cheap booze and a good many socially unspeakables.
I only hope that I can help ruin your show.

ps.
Sorry about all this. Chock it up to American Overconsumption, of the fine literature of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson. http://www.derbypost.com/hunter.html, for example. If you're going to destroy your eyesight glaring at an electric diode you might as well do it in style.

What are you up to this summer?

Tyler

Modified: Wednesday, May 04, 2005 2:32:44 AM

Silent stare of blank screen jutting into the night dry air
Sitting in my red chair leaning back but only at far as it will take me, if I lean further I will fall, because the chair cannot support the weight once it is titled off its axis. I would fall onto the red rug that would catch me in patterns and designs and tell me stories through its wordlessness, stories I couldn’t begin to comprehend in my present inebriation. A little drunk on whisky and, well, sunk on the ship of good tidings. The American century. Capitalized by accident, capitalized by destiny. Correct spelling goes a long way. Take it from one who knows it, take it from one who’s been there to the other side of the deep transient gulf of the human spirit egging on the ghosts and flailing in the tide of stolen ambition. I know not what I say and there is always room for improvement. Forget it frog I found your frond floating in the fast frothy fetid darkness of deluged delight. Dancing in the autumn autocracy. And another album is audible in the rotten reefer rinds. Total timbolfierant cy in tel. Things take so long to emote it hurts my feelings like a gallstone passing through my innermost brain cavities. Giving birth to deformed sentences and pale nothings of former fondness. It aches me to tell what I do not know, and every bit strains my strands from this side to that – and the worst part, the absolute Worst Part is that there is someone waiting watching and wondering what exactly I am working on in the waning windowless

Fidelismo

I wanted to put up some videos of Fidel Castro's Primero de Mayo 2003 speech that I attended, but I haven't been able to find a server to host them yet because the files are so huge. In the meantime, you can IM jijijij and go to Get File, there should be the three videos in there.

According to the Cuban government, 1 million people gathered in the Plaza de la Revolucion for the 10 AM speech (and preceeding speeches and other onstage events). We marched down from the University with the rest of the Havana college kids and arrived at around 4:15 AM - and it poured rain from about 6 AM - 8 AM, but we couldn't move. We were right up front, in the first few rows of people behind the dignitaries and press, snuggled in the midst of revolutionary students from all over Latin America. Imagine you and thousands of your closest companeros jumping up and down in the communist rain chanting socialist slogans in Spanish for 8 hours. There is only one word for that in English and that word is wickedawesome.
Patria o Muerte!
Venceremos!

ps: The speaker who preceeded Fidel was a Protestant priest invited from the United States. He spoke about the recent executions on charges of treason of a few Cubans who had hijacked a Havana commuter ferry (which I had rode several times before the incident) in hopes of making it to Miami - it ran out of gas halfway there. His speech condemned the Cuban government for their hasty action. Can you imagine a Cuban official being invited to speak before Bush at his State of the Union about the human rights violations in Guantanamo? The answer is no, no, you can't.

Rhode Island on Less than an Apple a Day

In honor of International Worker's Day, I'm posting another article I wrote for my journalism class in the fall. It's about the future of local farming in Rhode Island, and I think it's worth a read. I feel terrible for just sitting on this one and never publishing it. Anyway, here it is for you.

Apple farmer Allan Hill is shaken all the way down to his roots – and his roots are deep. As he rumbles his big, old farmers-market pick-up truck along the dirt path that runs through his Johnston orchard, he talks about history and novelty. He points to the old house on his property that was built there in the late 1700’s and he explains the orientation of the rooms within it that were configured to catch the sun’s heat in the winter. Neither is it an accident that the front door faces away from the road, he says. It opens out onto the land, which was probably growing crops then as it is now.

The apple trees, which the truck passes on the left and now on the right too, are barren except maybe for the very tops – it is early December, and picking season has passed in all its frenzy. As he drives, Mr. Hill explains about planting – though he rarely does it anymore – and he tells how farmers choose the rootstock, or vigor, of the trunk in order to control the size of its top. Through the window, the long, thick, gray, reaching branches and squat statures of the trees give the impression that they are ancient and yet somehow otherworldly.

And in a sense, they are. The first trees were planted here by Mr. Hill’s father and uncle in 1929, which marked the beginning of Hill Brothers orchard. The land they used had been Mr. Hill’s grandfather’s since the 1890’s. Later, when Mr. Hill’s father and mother married, she wanted a farm to call her own – so in the 1940’s she bought an adjoining farm and planted an orchard, which was tended there separately. In 1950, Mr. Hill was born and he began to grow up in the house in which he still lives, while he watched his father tend the farm that he now tends. After Mr. Hill’s uncle died, Mr. Hill’s father bought out his sister-in-law and the entire property became their own. The name was changed to Hill Orchards, which is what Mr. Hill inherited from his parents.

Mr. Hill, however, now has no children of his own, and therefore he may be unable to keep the farm in the family.

“That’s gonna be a problem, coming up,” he says. “The odds are,” – he pauses –and then confides, “I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

The lack of an heir seems to be somehow metaphorical for the greater cultural trend that threatens the future of farming in Rhode Island, and, more generally, local farming in the United States on the whole. It seems to Mr. Hill that the current and next generations have lost touch with what it means to be a farmer. Even the farms that can be handed down are in trouble, he says.

This is because, somewhat ironically, the farm-lands are worth so much money. Real estate prices have generally been going up for decades, and Rhode Island has the highest land values in the nation – about $8000 per acre. That means that a farm that has 200 acres could be sold for about 1.6 million dollars on average – on land value alone.

Mr. Hill tells a story about how in the 1980’s someone from the planning department in Rhode Island visited a meeting of farmers, trying to figure out what would happen to local farming in the state. He predicted to them that there would be no farms left by 1990.

“And everyone thought he was crazy… But what he was saying was, the way land prices have gone up, it’s not economically viable to be a farm. How can you justify farming a piece of land that’s worth a million dollars? If you took that million dollars and put it in at 5% interest, you’re gonna make more money!,” Mr. Hill says.

In many respects, the planner was right. Farms have been fighting a losing battle against these economic pressures. Notably, Knight Farm – which had the first farm-stand in the state – was recently sold off. Yet what has kept many of the farms alive since 1990 has been the farmers’ tradition and values. No farmer wants to be the last link in the chain. Mr. Hill, however, does not have this confidence in the next generation.

“When they see that the land’s for sale, they just sell it, because they don’t have the connection anymore. It really is that way, because the generation before me – you know, they wanted money and all that, but the land was worth more than this. They would try not to sell. They wanted to keep it all in one piece - because that was the farm. It was an entity. It wasn’t just land to be used or abused or whatever. It was something special,” he says.

The United States was mostly founded on the backs of local growers during colonial and revolutionary times – in fact, one of George Washington’s favorite pastimes was to prune his apple trees. In those times, farming was by far the most common profession – most people lived rurally, and grew most of their own food. Later, with the advent of the industrial revolution in the United States – which actually began in Rhode Island – people turned away from this rural life, and the cities began to swell immensely.
Without land to cultivate, city-dwellers were forced to buy their food. Thus the local farm – which had once been chiefly just a source of sustenance for the family that owned it – became instead a commercial venture. Agriculturally, Rhode Island was known for its vegetables, especially potatoes. It remained this way for about a century.

Then, around 1960, the first chain supermarket arrived in Rhode Island. This marked the visible beginning of a gradual, but eventually drastic change in the farming and food industries. Centralized supermarkets no longer wanted to deal with local suppliers, as these suppliers could not produce wholesale in the bulk amounts that they wanted to buy. Food was now being trucked across the country on a regular basis, and farms were expanding and being bought up by large corporations.

With the shortage of land in Rhode Island, however, local farms could not expand to anywhere near the size of the new mega-farms. Therefore, land use was maximized on a few crops, and the state’s agricultural diversity dwindled. Farmers tried to focus on growing potatoes, but that was now threatened by competition from Idaho and elsewhere. Furthermore, the farming industry was going global, and local farms were forced to compete in a new and unbalanced kind of economic situation. In this way, what are called corporate food channels emerged, and local growers were marginalized. For instance, try to find a Rhode Island apple in a Rhode Island Stop & Shop and you will come out empty-handed, Mr. Hill says.

In short, the wholesale market has dropped out on local growers – centralized supermarkets do not want to deal with their relatively puny supply, and even if they did, the farmers would not make a profit on the prices with which they must compete. This has made it very difficult for them to continue with their family’s way of life.
Interestingly, however, the retail industry for local growers is very much alive. In the past ten years, the number of farmers’ markets in the state has risen from five to over twenty. Mr. Hill, who is the president of the four Downcity Farmers’ Markets – in Central Falls, Providence (Hope High and Parade Street), and Woonsocket – says that the markets are doing very well.

“The retail end has gone up. Stop & Shop is getting a dollar-fifty a pound for some of their stuff over there. So when I go out and ask a dollar a pound at the farmers’ markets, they all think I’m cheap – I think I’m doing really good! But, I mean, that’s a sign of the times. It’s strange,” he says.

From produce bought at the supermarket, only five cents on the dollar usually reaches the original farmers, according to Louella Hill (no relation to Mr. Hill), who founded the Sustainable Food Initiative at Brown University and now works for their Dining Services promoting local buying. She says that the rest of the supermarket retail cost goes to intermediaries – to pay for packaging, diesel fuel for shipping, and, importantly, food waste during transportation. An international produce broker once told Ms. Hill that he was losing 40 percent of his lettuce crop en route.

“He was shipping from Ecuador – South America – to Providence. Of course the lettuce will be damaged,” she says.

At farmers’ markets, on the other hand, all of the money goes directly to the farmer, whose transportation costs are minimal, and packaging and food waste are non-existent. Therefore, prices remain low while quality remains high. Also, farmers are able to develop a direct relationship with the community, while the consumers can actually meet the person who is growing their food. The point is to minimize the steps between the source – the farm – and the destination – your stomach.

“Farmers’ markets are amazing, because when you put the farmer directly in contact with the person that buys the food, you cut out the middle man,” Ms. Hill says.
It was at a farmers’ market, in fact, where Ms. Hill discovered her passion.

“A whole series of events were accumulating in my mind, but I wasn’t quite processing them,” she says, referring to her original lack of awareness of the dire situation of local farming in Rhode Island.

“A farmer I met at the [Brown] farmers’ market invited me to see his land, and as he was driving me around, he was pointing out this place where there used to be a farm, and now there’s a brand new spanking house up, and we passed this other place that used to be his brother’s farm, and there’s a new house up over it. And he drove me to his land, and there were two new houses on the edge of his property.”

“They can’t stand me,” he told her.
She asked him why.
“Because farming is gross! And the tractor is noisy and the manure stinks. People don’t really like farmers any more,” he said.
It was mid-November, and he was telling her about how it broke his heart that these lands were being lost. He said he wanted to buy a billboard somewhere near his farm where people would see it on their way to work. He wanted it to read: Do you enjoy this view? It won’t last long if you don’t buy local food.
Then she looked up and he was crying.

“It was so in my face and hitting me, that I realized I had to make people understand this.”

Ms. Hill was a student of Brown University at the time, and she went on to write her senior environmental studies thesis on creating a regional food economy here in Rhode Island, which became the foundation of her current work. She views what she does as more than just food services – she believes she is combining agriculture and social justice.

Although Brown is placing itself at the forefront of this crusade in the sense that it is making campus-wide changes to its food system, there are many other colleges across the country that are working along the same lines. Yale has received widespread praise for implementing an entirely locally-sourced, organic cafeteria. Other schools, such as Dartmouth, Vassar, and Cornell have started student-run farms, which is something that Ms. Hill is hoping can now be achieved at Brown.

“We have the land and the capability to run a student-run farm. This farm is very, very possible if we express that interest and bring it to life,” she says.

As of the moment, Brown has implemented an outreach program to local farms called Harvest Crews, in which students visit the farms once a week in order to lend a hand with the work, such as picking apples in the fall. The farmers are spared the cost of hiring more employees at that time, and the students learn why the fight to save these farms is important. This also helps to foster a personal connection. Building off of these relationships, Brown is many times able to buy food from the farms at reduced rates.

“I would be thrilled if other universities did this,” Ms. Hill says.

Many times, however, local produce is no more expensive than what the schools buy from corporate providers, she says. At times the task of buying local is merely as complex as just making a few phone calls.

“It’s like their numbers were scratched on our minds, but they got erased for the past forty years. Sysco and Sedexho have fulfilled all of our needs, just like Walmart. It takes effort, it takes vision – and understanding that by calling that local apple producer or by buying broccoli from that farmer that’s thirty minutes down the road, you’re doing something worthwhile. It’s an appeal to consciousness, and sometimes it’s even economical,” she says.

Ms. Hill believes that universities are a great place to start the movement towards (really, back to) local agriculture. Of course, there is the fact that schools have a constant, massive, and consolidated buying power – in a capitalist system, it is the consumer who wields the most power over the economy and its effects on society. However, there is also a less concrete aspect to Ms. Hill’s logic: it is a chance to put academic words into on-campus action.

“We are students sitting in classrooms where we are talking about economic development, biodiversity, genetic engineering, ethics – and then the food we have for lunch is directly connected to all of those issues… I think change happens at universities, because that’s what it’s for – because that’s what we do here,” she explains.

Mr. Hill is one of the farmers that has recently begun providing apples and other products to Brown. He agrees that schools are a great place for local farmers to find a market – he now also sells to Central Falls. He finds it very difficult, however, to break into the systems in which these schools have become involved. Although it may be more expensive, many times the schools find it easier to just order everything they need from huge corporate providers, because they have a breadth of product and transportation ability with which Mr. Hill can not compete.

Mr. Hill is worried about the future of farming in Rhode Island. He says that the future of local farming is, “over time, to become houses.” Lately, he has been struggling with own farm, which is growing more apples than he can sell in retail. When a tree dies, often times he does not replant it, and a gap is left instead. This year, he had to let apples hit the ground, rather than pay a costly labor and storage bills for product that he could not sell. The apples he has in storage, he will be selling possibly until March he says – ideally he would be done by Christmas. His next step, therefore, is to cut back an entire block of trees – to downsize. His only goal is to keep the farm going as long as possible.

“It’s going to change more – very, very quickly,” he says. “Because of all the housing – you watch. Things are gonna change… It’s going to be solid people. That’s what’s happening. And in the process, we’re ruining our whole environment. Well – what I consider ruining it. People think that a quarter acre lot is good, but that doesn’t quite make it in my estimation.” He laughs wholeheartedly. “If you know what I’m saying…

“Oh well, that’s just my point of view,” he continues with a sigh. “I’m looking at things from a different direction – that most people wouldn’t need to – want to hear.”