Working at the Speed of Trust

Farming has a PR issue. It’s never been harder to become a farmer, and even more difficult to become a young farmer. With an aging farming population where the typical American farmer is 57 years old with farms that are more expensive to purchase than ever, less than 8% of the workforce is under the age of 35. Industry forecasting into the future with rapidly unpredictable weather patterns is leaving younger generations of farmers with very little support in future-proofing one of the most vulnerable industries on the planet. So if you’re not already in the biz or inheriting a family farm, why bother?

The farming industry should consider taking cues from Mo Ryan, 28, Lis Stumpf, 27, Prisilla Benitez, 29, and Hayley Wood, 27, the four first-generation farmers who co-founded Hot Spell Farm in Elgin, Texas last year. Their farming philosophy is imbued throughout everything they do: “Have fun, be hot, and grow good food!” Scroll through their influencer-worthy Instagram feed to see playful farmer bios and foodie recipes showcasing how to best use their produce. Bring cash to their farmer’s market stand on Saturdays to pick up fresh flowers and vibrant produce and they’ll hand you change from their neon green Charli XCX Brat album inspired cash box. It doesn’t really matter if it’s intentional or not: Hot Spell is the kind of small farm that, despite the insurmountable challenges that come with the gig, is putting the fun into farming through playful, energizing, and fresh perspectives. Despite the typical challenges that young farmers face—from land access to capital, labor, tools, and additional resources—they’re thinking like mycelial networks and testing out new approaches to making farming a sustainable business for themselves and others.

On a scorching hot morning in September, Mo, Lis, Prisilla, and Hayley are walking me through the field beds of Hot Spell Farm. Grasshoppers leap out of our path as they point out sweet potato plants and fresh daikon beds. The farm was formed in 2023 out of a lack of time, cobbled resources, and knowledge sharing. Before the two acre allotment on the larger 315-acre property known as 3 Creeks Farm in Elgin became Hot Spell, it was a growing space by numerous independent growers. “The land came to us first and then we decided to start a farm”, explains Lis. Prisilla squints in the heat and points to one of the back plots where they first started prepping the fields last year. “We found a tooth in the dirt… and if we found more bones, we were planning on calling the cops.” The whole crew erupts in laughter and nods in unison. We had to clean out the space of people’s entire lives who had farmed here for the past 15 years.” Once the team settled into the space last year, they began to focus on what exactly they could successfully grow. “I’m in an open relationship with the weather app,” says Lis, who explains that 90% of the time, they can’t grow much, keeping them flexible. Some days begin with a gentle 60 degree temperature that is dominated by 95 degree afternoons. Failed dreams of arugula have led to successful crops of tatsoi, easter radishes, holy basil, nutrient dense carrots, and more. 

Mental health; the pandemic; a hunger for spending time outdoors and growing food; late-stage capitalism; the culture of care and feeding people. Each farmer’s drive for what led them to form Hot Spell largely weaves together into a shared vision. After graduating from college in 2020 during the height of the pandemic, Prisilla was struggling with their mental health, an unclear career path, and a craving to work outside. Mo got a degree in environmental science, WWOOFed in Alaska (Worldwide Opportunities on Organic Farms), and took her love of plants into finding farming jobs in Austin. Hayley was dealing with academic burnout at the end of college that made the idea of a career that involved sitting behind a desk all day sound like purgatory. Once she began farming, the link between using her body and working outside and visually seeing the progress in plants became an enduring force that keeps her going. Lis, a native New Yorker, began working at a native food forest on the East River during the pandemic that led them to working on a farm in Queens, and later, Steelbow farm in Austin, where they met Mo and Hayley, and then Prisilla through Mo. The dynamic quartet was germinated.

Without any access to capital, the team is able to have enough freedom to experiment in part due to the generosity of their landowner, Jon Beall, who has allowed them and all the previous independent growers who farmed the land to do so for free. “The reason we keep doing it is because we’re not losing any money. Instead, we’re able to see what we like and don’t like and ask, “Can we do this? Can we make this successful and mean something to us and other people and maybe become a resource for other young farmers? What is there to lose? In this case, nothing. Especially with four unrelated people,” says Lis. Unlike inheriting a family-run farm business or being in a marriage or romantic partnership that leads to starting a farm, the Hot Spell crew is interested in building a farm model that sustains based on a shared platonic commitment that can help single young farmers get into the industry. The team reflects on the interpersonal challenges that arise with the work, which forces them to get to know each other intimately. “A farmer I knew gave me this advice: You’ll want to make sure that everything is really written out since you’re not in a committed relationship, which I thought was interesting, because even if we’re still getting to know each other, it feels like we’re already committed to this and each other and really like doing the work, so it becomes: how do we make this work?,” says Lis. All four farmers describe their current roles a “privilege” in part because they don’t have to pay for farming on the land and don’t carry the financial burden of providing for other family members or kids. 

Sixty-four percent of young farmers have a primary occupation outside of their full-time farming duties, and every Hot Spell farmer has another part-time or full-time gig when they’re not tending to the land. Lis is full-time farming while Hayley has a 9-5 in small-farm food safety education and also runs her own cake business, Flour Garten, which has built up a local cult following. Mo works as a nanny and Prisilla works as a server at Este, one of the most popular restaurants in Austin. They’re all committed to making the farm successful enough to where each of them can transition into full time capacity roles.

“I think we’re all financially struggling in different ways, but we all really care about the farm—it’s our baby,” says Prisilla. In order to keep a holistic approach to preventing burnout, the team checks in with each other about what feeling financially sustained means for each of them. “You have to have a lot of devotion to being here, being present, while also taking care of your rent, your debt, all of that stuff. I don’t know that burnout is unavoidable, even with my salaried job, working here, and doing what I can and also having side gigs of making cakes and doing stuff to have extra cash in the field. I break even at the end of every month. We’ve seen a lot of people burn out in the farm community and do it in ways we don’t particularly like or agree with. I think all of us think there’s a different way forward, which is what we get to experiment with here, which is the nice thing,” says Hayley. 

So how do we get more young people into farming? “The work-life balance needs to be a thing. People’s voices being heard and their ideas and values being valued. Two years into this, being a farm worker, I wish people asked for my opinion or what I desired would be cool. Being in the know about the crop plan and things that are going on in the area among all the farms. There’s a lot that I don’t know because I was doing all the physical work so I didn’t realize why I was doing those things until I got here,” says Mo.

Outside of grants and fundraising, and with the insurmountably challenging water issues in Elgin—which is currently in stage 2 drought—what exactly keeps them going? For Lis, it’s a sense of purpose that’s deeply connected to community resilience. “I think for a lot of young people heading into the workforce today, capitalism feels like it’s crumbling. And with climate change, it feels like there’s no hope of better times ahead but more about accepting that it’s all gone to shit. So I feel like if it’s gone to shit anyway, what do I want to do with my one, precious life?” I wanna grow food and do something for someone else, and that feels important. And if it all really does go to shit, I can do something to support myself and the people I love. That’s good enough for me.”

All four are unanimously clear eyed about the Instagram vs. reality of farming and the unpredictable future ahead of them. Prisilla reflects on FarmTok influencers and how small farming is often portrayed in the media. “I think a lot of people watch FarmTok and think farming is cute or romantic and think it’s a hobby. It’s very rewarding, but it’s a lot of hard work. I think valuing food and beauty and nature are the things our society takes for granted. People always assume it’s readily available and always in season, and when the price of something goes up, it becomes an inconvenience, but very little do people realize that the price rose because a particular farm got wiped out from a climate disaster or whatever it was.”

In the season ahead, the Hot Spell team is gearing up to fundraise for a cold storage fridge and electricity to get it set up so that they can elevate their production methods to the next level. They’re fundraising through a Go Fund Me, a yoga workshop and ceramics sale on the farm, and looking for future opportunities to meet their financial goal. They’re all in agreement that regardless of what happens next, this is the most rewarding job each of them has had so far. According to Hayley, “We’re working at the speed of trust. That is the progress in rethinking the farming model for us:  how we trust each other and how we trust in what we’re doing. No matter what happens here between us, there’s always that common thread that we all want this to work that helps strengthen us. Even when conflict comes up or we have disagreements, it’s an anchoring. The farm is bigger than those things.”