and what do you do?

A set of standard questions is emerging in my conversations with people in Missoula lately as we re-establish in this community.  From the people I knew before, they run along the lines of "So, you're back...for how long?"  "Did you find a job here?"  or "Are you teaching at the University here?"  Behind the questions I can often sense the curiosity about my return, my two year adjunct teaching stint in Oregon, my future goals.  From people I'm meeting more newly, it's usually some variation of "What do you do?"  Meaning, really "what work do you get paid for?" 

It's funny, it's such a normal question in most circles, and the answer to that question tends to define us, the basic job-title-as-role definition of who a person is.  I had an interesting exchange recently with a friend from grad school about whether or not she was still a biologist.  Meredith spends most of her hours these days wrangling two small children, but is also branching into some science writing.  She has a PhD in biology, is one of the best bird-nerds I know (she named her black shepherd dog Corvus, part of the Latin name for crow), and is married to a wildlife biologist.  Their recreational family outings more often than not involve binoculars, birding, and species identification.  She wrote a lively and informative article on the biology and natural history of dragonflies for a local publication in her small Colorado town, and described herself in the author blurb at the end as "a former biologist."  I took issue with the "former" but since she wasn't getting paid for biological research or working at an institution anymore, she didn't feel comfortable claiming the "biologist" title at the moment. 

I can relate, to an extent.  After all, I carried a university ID card marked "faculty," had a nameplate with "Mary Bricker, PhD" outside my office door (an office of my own, with a door! not a grad student cubicle!) for at least one whole semester, maybe a whole year, before the answer "I'm a biology professor" started to come naturally. I often dodged a bit, saying "I teach biology at a small college," taking the activity descriptor, rather than title-claiming route.  Eventually I got used to it, embraced it, even if it still sometimes (often) felt like I was figuring it out and barely functioning as Professor Bricker.  But, on the other hand, those two years of teaching were probably the simplest, easiest to explain job I've had.  People understand, or at least think they understand, what it means to be a professor. That simplicity was s relief after six years of grad school and a year of working for an educational software company, both situations complicated and nebulous enough that even my own family had a hard time telling people what I did.

And now, once again, the answer to the question of what I do is a bit tricky.  You might be wondering, too.  And one complication is that right now, it's work that I think I will eventually be paid for, somehow.  But it's not so secure or clear as hourly wages or a year's teaching contract.  One way I answer "did you find a job here?" is "Well, I'm making myself one."  That's partly because I'm not quite read to answer with "I run a not for profit organization," even though that is the thing I spend most of my time doing right now (not alone, of course, it's with Noah,and we're continually adding affiliations and partnerships to ensure that it's not just our own crazy idea and plan, but something with support, focus, and longevity).  Some parts of it are running already, like the coffee roasting direct trade program--that's approaching a year now.  Some parts Noah has been running for years, documenting farm and forest people in words and images.  None of it has yet been done under an official 501(3)c status, but we're getting there.

I want to be clear: I didn't leave my job teaching at Pacific because I was unhappy there, because it was hard (though it was) or required ridiculously long hours, even on weekends (which it did) .  I left because, as much as I liked the role of Professor Bricker on a little campus of brick buildings and lawns shaded by Oregon White Oak, I believe that the ideas Noah and I have for our organization could bring about something even better.  It's still hard work, it's still requiring some long hours and some difficult, loosely structured tasks that seem never ending. I have to make phone calls to people I don't know way more often than I'd (it's not something I do well(.   But it's also exciting, and we've had some good successes recently.  I'd like to share some of those stories (including how we went straight from bucket showers and the toolshed homestead to a conference room in Manhattan to make a pitch to an organization there).  But before some of those stories, it might help to see some summaries of "what we do" these days. 

I've been working already on drafting descriptions of our organization and programs, for sharing with contacts and people to whom we'll make requests for help, meetings, etc..  So, though still in draft form, here's the basics of what we at Forest Voices do.  And maybe before too long I'll find a smooth way to answer the question of "what do you do?" in conversation as well.  After all "I run a small non-profit organization with my partner" is a pretty normal answer to that question in Missoula!

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The official Forest Voices logo

Forest Voices is an establishing not-for-profit organization based in Missoula, Montana.  We have three programs that function independently but also complement and support each other.  All programs work towards our overall goal of supporting the people and communities who rely on forest ecosystems. 

Mission and Vision: 

Forest Voices uses student courses, direct trade, and storytelling programs to foster meaningful connections between people across vast geographic and lifestyle distances.   We help consumers of globally traded products such as coffee, tea, and cocoa understand and directly experience how good practices of trade and agroforestry can impact the lives of the farmers producing these crops.  We believe that understanding the full process and story behind the foods and products we consume can encourage people to think and act with greater care, to enhance the quality of life and sustainability of the communities of the farmers and the consumers alike. 

Our programs:

Storytelling:  We listen for and document local stories, particularly in communities living in forests and at forest edges.  We use participatory methods, in which we empower people to record, document, and share their ecological knowledge, traditional and innovative farm and forestry practices, and cultural heritage.  These stories and knowledge, recorded in writing, audio, video, images, and maps, remain in the community as a resource for community members, and for exchange with other communities. 

We also gather and share some of these stories with the end consumers of high-value, globally traded agro-forestry crops such as coffee, cocoa, and vanilla.  In this case, the stories of farmers, the forests they rely on, and their farming practices, are meant to educate and inspire consumers.  A compelling story can lead people to make choices and take actions that directly enable the forest communities producing such commodities to obtain a fair price, earn a reliable living, and continue farm practices that enhance and preserve forest ecosystems. 

Student courses: On two to three week travel courses, students explore the complex ecology of agro-forestry crops such as coffee by living and working with families in communities growing these crops.  Through direct experience and service learning, students gain understanding of both the culture of the host community and the natural history, ecology, and conservation challenges relevant to that area.  In addition, we work intensively with students on these courses to develop and refine their ability to effectively communicate what they learn.  Specifically, students learn to identify, and craft stories in order to present information in a way that is compelling, and inspires thought and action in an audience.  Through this emphasis on storytelling, students are able to return to their home communities equipped to bridge their course experience with their home life, and share the stories with that home community.      

Direct trade:  We buy directly from farmers with whom we have established relations and whose farming practices make a positive impact on their surroundings. We process these products (coffee and cocoa) at small scale in our home facilities and sell to local consumers.  These products also serve as vehicles of farmer stories, to educate consumers and facilitate building of community in the US.