For Those Who Feed Us
A poem for farmworkers
Dear Readers:
I was recently honored to be asked to write a poem for the annual fundraising event for Proteus Inc., a regional nonprofit that provides agricultural workers and their families with affordable health care, education assistance, and job training. The specific ask was to create a poem to honor farmworkers killed or injured on the job. Since I am from a family of farmers and ranchers, I know firsthand that farm work of all kinds is as difficult and dangerous as it is critical to feeding our families and our world. Proteus’ request stemmed from farmworkers deaths from heat, machinery, vehicle crashes, and accidents. Award-winning local actress and director Davida Williams read the poem last night at the event, and I’m pleased to share it with you now.
For Those Who Feed Us
I am missing her, my mother,
who toiled in the field, hands calloused,
back bent, planting, picking and sorting,
surrounded by the sweet smell of soil,
in the sparkling dew of dawn, working
to sustain her family, to sustain us all.
I am missing him, my father,
who toiled on the farm, hands calloused,
back bent, checking wells, loading
grain, cleaning shining bins
in the scorching summer sun,
in the chilly autumn darkness,
entangled in machines of steel,
working to to feed us,
to feed the world.
I am missing her, my sister.
She fell in the field, hands calloused,
back bent, knees buckling, dizzy
in the scorching heat, overcome
by pounding rain, smelling of sweat
and mud, toiling to nourish her children,
to nourish us all.
I am missing him, my brother.
who labored in the plant, hands calloused,
back bent, intent on the process
of processing, aroma of flesh
in the frigid air, viscera on slick floor.
He went down on the line in a flash
of silver and blood, toiling to make
a better life, a better life for us all.
I am missing you, hands calloused,
back bent, toiling in the sun, shivering
in the snow, working for my future,
for our future. I carry you gently
in my own weathered palms, in my own
open heart. And when my shift is done,
I will light a candle and place corn
and soil on a makeshift altar. I will
give thanks for this food, for health
and life, for earth and sky, for all
that you gave me, all that you gave us.
Proteus’ vision: A better life for farmworkers. To learn more about Proteus and learn how you can support farmworkers, please go to their website: https://www.proteusinc.net
Thank you to Proteus’ Dr. Daniel Zinnel, Executive Director (pictured below), and Emily Mendez, Director of Development, for thinking of me for this poem for the event.
Your makeshift altar is my favorite part of this poem.
Suzanna, this poem is beautiful in expression of gratitude, and is a voice for workers not often heard from (because they are working hard and long, and have not time or energy to advocate for themselves). Heide