One mother explained how produce farming is a perfect fit with child rearing: “Raising produce is rewarding if you can get the whole family involved. Even preschoolers can help a lot. Four- and five-year-olds can fill flats with pro-mix in the greenhouse. Once they get tired of that, they can help transplant seedlings out of trays into plug flats. … A lot can be done in a short time with one adult and three willing little helpers. … The produce patch is a good place to catch up on family news, whether we’re planting, weeding, or harvesting, it’s a fun place to be.”23
Organic Farming
Although many observers assume that all Amish farms are organic, most are not. During the last half of the twentieth century, the majority of Amish farmers used chemical fertilizers on their land and also killed insects, fungus, and weeds with commercial chemicals. Why did the nature-loving Amish accept chemical farming? One reason was their gradual adoption of hybrid seed corn, despite strong objections from some conservative leaders. Seed and fertilizer salespeople pitched the benefits of chemical fertilization, and some of the most profit-oriented Amish farmers even hired consultants to test their soil and advise them on the use of fertilizer, herbicides, and insecticides.
Not everyone was comfortable with these developments. In 1990 the Amish periodical Family Life published a three-part series, “Poisoning the Earth,” in which an Amish organic advocate lamented “how readily the usually cautious and conservative small scale Amish and Mennonite farmers accepted this radical departure [use of chemicals] from the traditional” ways of farming.24 The articles went on to argue for a return to organic production. During the 1990s, a small but increasing number of farms—including some larger dairies—adopted organic methods.25 In 1997 Ohio had no certified organic dairies, but a few years later there were over one hundred, and 90 percent of them were Amish and Old Order Mennonite.
The shift to organic methods was driven by premium prices for organic products as well as by greater awareness in some Amish communities that, in the words of one farmer, “it was the right thing to do because it fit our beliefs.” One convert to organic ways explained that he began to question chemicalized farming and asked himself, “Is this what God expects of us farmers? Should we spray pesticides to kill weeds and insects?”26 Although he also believed that organic farming was more profitable, he grounded his choice in his religious convictions.
An organic dairy farmer described some of the hurdles to achieving organic certification: no synthetic or chemical fertilizers, no chemically treated seeds for the past three years, no antibiotics, no hormones, and thirty to forty pages of paperwork completed annually for inspection by a certifier. The rules seem complicated at first, he notes, and adds that organic farming is serious business, not an “idyllic vision” for “long-haired, sandaled hippies.”27
Organic products are sold at the farm, at roadside stands, to small-town grocery stores, and to organic wholesalers who market products for growers. In addition, some Amish-driven marketing ventures have emerged. Twenty Amish leaders in the Holmes County area of Ohio organized Green Field Farms in 2003. Membership in the cooperative is limited to people who use horse-and-buggy transportation. Its purpose is “to oversee the development of profitable markets for agricultural products of our plain communities, and the building of a local economy to support and enable our farmers to thrive.”28 Green Field Farms markets organic products such as eggs, milk, and vegetables. Another example is Lancaster Farm Fresh Cooperative in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.29 This organic cooperative distributes a wide assortment of vegetables as well as cream, yogurt, and honey produced by some eighty Amish farms to consumers as far away as New York, Philadelphia, and Baltimore. Farm Fresh has wholesale accounts and also sells directly to individuals who purchase shares in a Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) program. Each retail shareholder receives a weekly summer delivery of organic produce that includes ninety-five varieties of vegetables and fruits.
Intensive Grazing
Intensive rotational grazing is another growing edge in contemporary Amish agriculture. In a rotational grazing system, farmers regularly move cattle from one pasture to another, maximizing cows’ access to fresh grass and evenly distributing animal manure across all pastureland. Intensive grazing also minimizes the need to supplement the cows’ diet with grain. Most farmers who employ intensive rotational grazing do not milk their cows in the winter months, and they start a new lactation cycle in the spring when the grass returns. This method does not require heavy tillage equipment to plow, till, and harvest feed crops because the main crop is grass. Per-cow milk production is lower than conventional dairies, but so are machinery, labor, and fuel costs. Although grazing is eco-friendly and sustainable, the initial costs (including land) are more expensive than produce farming because rotational grazing requires more acres.
In Grass-Based Dairy Farming, fifteen Amish farmers explain their enthusiasm for this method: “We, in the spirit of good land stewardship, are managers of the primary plant of God’s creation—grass. We harvest this grass in the most ecologically correct manner we can by our cooperation with the laws of nature and dictates of the bovine species. We then sell her milk as a reward for our stewardship and gain the satisfaction of providing for our families and our communities in a manner that violates neither the earth nor those that tread upon it.” The authors argue that grass-based farming “fits our way of life, our values, and our goals, increases rather than depletes the farm’s resources, and attracts our children to the farming way of life.”30
New Ventures
Some other agriculture-related ventures include operating greenhouses, raising animals and birds for pet stores, and raising game animals to sell for hunting on large ranches.31 In Missouri, a fish farm provides income for one Amish household. In several states, farmers have developed goat dairies to sell milk for cheese because much less land is needed to support a herd of goats than a herd of cows.
In some settlements, greenhouses are especially popular for raising vegetable plants as well as flowers for retail or produce auction sale. Greenhouses are a family-friendly business that require little land and offer a range of tasks that can safely involve the work of even small children. As one woman put it, families want “something they can do out of their home” and noted that her sister could run her new greenhouse “right on the farm.”
Raising dogs, rabbits, or guinea pigs for wholesalers who sell them to pet stores provides another source of income in some settlements. In addition to extra cash for the family, these enterprises also often provide experience for children who are learning to work and manage a small business. In other cases, especially with dogs, large-scale breeders may rely on the business for their primary income. In some settlements, Amish breeders have been accused of running “puppy mills” that do not provide proper care for their animals. Although such charges may have been accurate in some cases, those operating registered kennels must meet their state’s regulations and pass inspections.
Ecological Sustainability
Although no systematic studies have measured the environmental impact of Amish farming methods, several research projects and ample ethnographic evidence suggests that they minimize ecological harm.32 Amish farmers use less fossil fuel than non-Amish farmers because they use manual labor, horse power, and manure, and they do not rely on public grid electricity. Amish commitments to small-scale, labor-intensive farming and values such as frugality, simplicity, humility, patience, and modesty combine to reduce ecological injury.
Nevertheless, many Amish farmers use some nonrenewable energy—when running small diesel engines to power hydraulic and pneumatic equipment for dairy operations, for example. Others use gasoline engines on field machinery or to operate elevators, chainsaws, and feed mixers. In addition, Amish manure-handling practices in some communities have increased erosion and water pollution in streams. Furthermore, some households do not properly dispose of the many batteries they use.
Amish lifestyle and tech
nology decisions typically are driven by long-standing Amish values related to family, community, tradition, and separation from the world, rather than by philosophical concepts about sustainability and ecological preservation. Paradoxically, however, even though Amish farm technology and practices are not driven by environmental concerns, Amish values and way of life tend to mitigate environmental harm. In her study of Amish agricultural sustainability, Martine Vonk concludes: “Amish diversified, labor-intensive agriculture is not entirely sustainable in the ecological sense, but certainly has aspects that lead to a low environmental impact.”33
Since 2000 a growing ecological awareness and concern, prompted by national trends, has emerged in some Amish communities. The resurgence of produce farming, organic products, and rotational grazing has raised the sustainability banner. The 110 members of Green Field Farms in Ohio, for example, describe themselves as “a co-op dedicated to sustainable agriculture.” The farmers promoting grazing are explicitly committed to sustainability, environmental friendliness, and reducing fossil fuel consumption. Similarly, the magazine Farming: People, Land, and Community, launched in 2001 by several Amish people with the assistance of non-Amish friends, including writer Wendell Berry, has provided a forum for promoting the revitalization of small farms, organic and produce farming, and intensive grazing. The periodical provides practical information “for small-scale diversified farmers” in a way “that offers new perspectives and reasons to hope.”34
One of Farming’s principal writers has been David Kline, an Ohio Amish bishop, naturalist, and author who was a vocal advocate for green issues long before they were trendy in American life.35 Kline often quotes the words of another bishop: “We should live as if Jesus would return today, and … take care of the land as if he would not be coming for 1,000 years.”36
Historian Steven Stoll notes that the agribusiness industry largely considers Amish farming “nice and good” but irrelevant. The Amish initiatives that support sustainability, Stoll argues, offer hope in the face of an agricultural industry that “tends to destroy the very systems it depends on by polluting and over fertilizing lakes and rivers, by causing soil erosion, by radically simplifying biological diversity, and by requiring the constant combustion of fossil fuels.”37
Happy Off the Farm?
Because agriculture has been the heart of Amish life for several centuries, it is not surprising that the multitude of changes since 1950 have prompted controversy within Amish circles. Already by the 1980s the growth of outside employment was stirring lively debate about the “lunch pail problem,” which arose when fathers carried their lunch to work instead of working on the farm and eating the noon meal with their families. At the same time, some Amish voices claimed that the idyllic view of farming was exactly that: too idyllic. In an essay entitled “Not Everyone Can Be a Farmer,” the wife of a shop worker wrote that, despite not living on a farm, “We are a happy family,” even though she shoulders more responsibilities for child care with her husband’s absence during the day. “Farming,” she concluded, “is not the answer to all our problems.” More important for her is finding “time for our families and for those better things in life … that will count in eternity.”38
This essay sparked many responses, with writers agreeing that “not everything about farming is desirable.” A nonfarm woman confessed, “I have no longing to be a farmer’s wife … we are content being a happy family.” A woman calling herself a “happy day-laborer’s wife” wrote that nonfarmers are “left feeling guilty and somewhat sinful as if we were on the wrong path somehow,” and she noted that “neither Jesus nor his disciples were farmers.”39
The exchange makes clear that, despite the dramatic shift away from farming in recent decades, some people need to defend their decision to leave the farm even though their off-farm work largely remains in rural settings. In subtle ways, the emotional tie to the land remains strong—so strong, in fact, that some small business owners have returned to the farm. It’s not unusual for a successful Amish entrepreneur to sell a business and return to working the soil. One Lancaster Amish man, Elam Beiler, founded a solar business in 1995 that used the sun’s rays to recharge batteries for lights on buggies. His company gradually expanded into non-Amish markets, and by 2010 annual sales were $20 million. That year Beiler turned over the management to a non-Amish CEO and moved to Indiana to buy farmland and begin farming with his sons.40 At the other end of the spectrum, a Swartzentruber Amish man sold his sawmill to his brother and bought a farm when he realized that his sons were becoming quite comfortable speaking English with his non-Amish customers.
The massive transformation of American agriculture—from small scale, low-tech family farms to computerized mega-operations focused on high volume and efficiency and requiring a huge capital investment—has threatened the traditional Amish way of life and its social fabric. Confronted with this new reality, Amish farmers found it difficult to compete without surrendering their family-based operations. As a member of a conservative Andy Weaver group noted, “There are pressures [today that] our forefathers never experienced. The difficulty and cost of farming … will influence the Amish a few generations down the road.”
The Amish struggle with modern agriculture in twentieth-century America is filled with examples of unflinching resistance, adaptation, and acceptance as Amish people negotiated their way through the rapidly changing maze of American agribusiness. It is also a saga of growing cultural diversity among Amish affiliations and communities across the continent. One of the most consequential outcomes of this struggle has been the growing number of Amish families working off the farm. That is the story to which we now turn.
CHAPTER 16
BUSINESS
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As dawn breaks over St. Mary’s County, Maryland, Aaron Hertzler and two other Amish men jump into a Ford Explorer driven by an English neighbor. Pulling a trailer filled with tools, they head north to the outskirts of Washington, D.C., where they spend the day installing shingles on a new roof. They use electric tools, listen to their favorite country music on a small radio, and eat lunch with non-Amish subcontractors working on the same building. Back home, Aaron’s wife cares for their three preschool children until he returns at about 6:00 p.m. Unless it rains, Aaron follows a similar routine every day of the week except Sunday.
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Lunch Pail Work
Many Amish people in communities across North America follow routines similar to that of Aaron Hertzler. Three days a week an Amish woman in Lancaster County rises at 4:00 a.m. to travel by rented van with several other women to Dover, Delaware, where she operates a candy and jelly stand at a farmers’ market. In Geauga County, Ohio, east of Cleveland, several members of an Amish household spend their days working in a rubber extruding plant. Near Arthur, Illinois, a van transports eight members of an Amish and English carpentry crew sixty miles to the outskirts of Springfield, where the men spend the day building an addition onto a large home.1
These examples demonstrate the occupational realities of many in the Amish world, since some two-thirds of households receive their primary income from non-farm work both inside and outside of their communities. Many work in one of the approximately twelve thousand Amish-owned businesses, while others are employed in non-Amish retail stores, offices, restaurants, factories, or construction firms.2 These jobs provide new sources of income for Amish people even as the work weaves them more tightly into regional and national economies and challenges Amish convictions about separation from the world. Although sizable numbers of Amish people work for English firms, the most traditional groups have stridently resisted most forms of outside employment. Some permit members to do wage labor for Amish businesses outside their own group, but generally not for English employers.
This diversity of employment is a late twentieth-century phenomenon. Few Amish worked for outside employers before World War II. In 1950 some northern Indiana men were working in factories building travel trailers and boats
. Those numbers rose in the 1960s as recreational vehicle plants opened in the region and tapped Amish labor. In many of those factories, the Amish eventually outnumbered the English, creating quasi-Amish workplaces. By the turn of the twenty-first century, nearly 70 percent of Amish men under thirty-five years of age in the Elkhart–LaGrange area of Indiana were working in non-Amish factories, while the proportion that were farming had plummeted to 7 percent.3
Building luxury motor homes that they would never purchase does not seem to trouble the Amish. Their church-community is more concerned with how its members spend their paychecks than with the products they produce. Working in outside firms is also the norm in the Nappanee, Indiana, and Geauga County, Ohio, settlements. In these communities, Amish hands work on assembly lines turning out campers, travel trailers, and prefabricated homes; labor with hot-rubber-extruding equipment; and mass-produce furniture and cabinets. Near Yoder, Kansas, Amish employees build cabinetry for corporate jets. In eastern Ohio, they work in large English-owned factories that manufacture garage doors.4 Rarely do the Amish comprise the entire labor force of a single factory. Amish, Mexican, and Yemeni workers staff a Japanese-managed firm in northern Indiana, for example. In some factories, Amish employees form a subculture—speaking Pennsylvania Dutch more than English as they discuss their off-work lives with their Amish coworkers during breaks.
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