While I would not identify myself as catholic, or even religious for that matter, the Pope’s continued talks about environmental stewardship really resonates with me. This weekend while watching the Pope speak, one thing that stuck with me was the reasoning that he gave for the utterly abusive relationship humanity have taken on with nature, and in extension, ourselves. He says that damage done to the environment are a product of “a selfish and boundless thirst for power and material prosperity,” which in the process degrades not only what people picture as the environment, but also our own bodies and generations to come. When I was reading this week’s reading, it struck me that in the face of technological progress, the rapidity at which new methods of building and creating housing materials have no time to be properly examined for their potential harmful side effects. Therefore the experiment must be conducted with those unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of the products. When I think of my house compared to the countless housing developments that pop up every week along route 273 and in Newark in general, the distinctions between the two become more and more obvious every time I make the ride along Telegraph Road to the Fair Weather Farm. Growing up I remember the thick wooden beams with dowels holding them in place, the stone foundation, the quarter-inch thick shale that hasn’t been repaired since we moved in 20 something years ago. My house, as with many houses in the periphery of Lancaster City, were built nearly 200 years ago and still are more durable and aesthetically appealing to those built in the last sixty years, despite over a century of technological “advances”. The synthetic replacements to the old way of doing things have introduced chemicals that physically give off an odor (sometimes), so much so that the familiar smells of old wood is replaced with noxious fumes of flame-retardants and formaldehyde in the walls.

It is then that I began thinking about the next thing the Pope discussed, that as a byproduct of the unquenchable hunger for power, the poor are tossed aside by the power hungry. It dawned on me through watching Food Inc. that the transition from agrarian farming to factory farming took along with it the honor and the monetary benefit of farm life. Through our disconnection from those who make our food, we are satisfied with allowing a handful of companies own a vast majority of food produced, and subsequently care less about the individual farmers being exploited by big business. The image of a farmer gets plastered on every product in the grocery store, yet the farmer lifestyle is nonetheless left in shambles compared to its former self. But then I compare the undocumented workers that were seen kicking chickens and shoveling cows to Nancy, with her upbeat demeanor and (slightly overly) optimistic attitude toward her farm. As I looked out over the several other enthusiastic, but ultimately untrained volunteers, it seemed that perhaps Nancy was spreading herself too thin. As long as this class is around to provide the resources to sustain the farm, I have high hopes for the Fair Weather Farm, but in its name lies somewhat of an ironic twist. For although Nancy can afford (both financially and physically) to do programs like outdoor yoga, hayrides, and the several others posted periodically on the Facebook group, it makes me wonder what the farm would look like without over 100 hours of combined extra man hours each week.