Valkyrie
2nd August 2003, 09:19
Some may remember The Farm, immortalized at the 69 Woodstock concert. Still going strong collectively owned, but bringing in big $$$. The Farm was moreless a social experiment in communal-type collective living. Though they seemed to have adopted and implemented at the time their own sort of "hippie-twist" to the collective ideology. Still, it's an interesting case study of self-sufficient collective living of a large group of people.
I have to wonder though if it has turned more into a Capitalist Enterprise or if it is still railing against the "Establishment."
Socialists or Sell outs?
Hippie Capitalism Keeps Commune Going
By RUSS OATES
SUMMERTOWN, Tenn. (AP) - Three decades after the golden age of the hippie, about 200 of them are still thriving in a self-supporting commune some three hours east of glitzy Graceland.
Known simply as The Farm, the sprawling collective operates, among other things, a midwife service, a soy products company, a mushroom grower and a factory producing personal radiation detectors.
Established on a 1,800-acre site in 1971, The Farm has outlived nearly all of its tie-dyed contemporaries with a mix of entrepreneurship and idealism, and a touch of sweat.
``We were hippies wanting to live together, and we accepted the discipline it took to do that,'' said Stephen Gaskin, the founder of the commune.
Gaskin, now 68, was teaching in San Francisco when in 1966 he began holding meetings every Monday night on ``what was happening outside his window,'' according The Farm's history posted on its Web site.
The crowds grew, so Gaskin took the gatherings on the road, attracting a throng of followers. The caravan of about 1,500 bought some land in the Lewis County hills and The Farm was formed.
The early days, which Gaskin says were guided by agreements ``looser than handshakes,'' made it though tough times. Some bad investments and an equally poor national economy in the late '70s put The Farm about $400,000 in debt, says Douglas Stevenson, a Farm resident since 1973.
What resulted was ``the changeover'' in 1983, which Stevenson described as the decision to make ``every adult responsible for bringing in some cash.'' Part of The Farm remains collectively held - the land and the commercial buildings remain owned by everyone - but all residents must work.
Stevenson contributes his share of work through Village Media. It started out as a satellite installation company, but now does audio, video and Web work.
Phil Schweitzer, who works with Stevenson, can recall recording Gaskin's first Monday classes on reel-to-reel film. Now he sits editing a couple's wedding using a high-tech video system Village Media is testing for a consumer magazine.
Except for their casual jeans and T-shirts, these graying men in their 50s don't look or act much like the stereotypical, free-spirit hippies. They live with other residents in modest homes spread liberally across the vast fields and forests of the commune property, and they talk wistfully about how they once took their children to play Little League games in nearby Lawrenceburg.
People here may live under a different system than others, Stevenson says, but nobody came here ``trying to escape from anything.''
``Our real objective is communication,'' Schweitzer adds. ``We support ourselves by doing little jobs.''
When it comes to money, The Farm's handle on the books is less exacting than at most businesses. Leaders say they don't know what the commune's overall annual income is.
But SE International, the personal radiation detector factory which Farm residents say is the commune's most profitable business, had revenues of $2.1 million for the most recent fiscal year.
Book publishing was The Farm's original business, and remains collectively owned. Business has grown from the first title - ``This Is The Farm Book,'' published in 1974 - to a catalog of vegetarian books including ``Flax: The Super Food'' and ``Native Plants, Native Healing.''
Warren Jefferson, who came to The Farm on the original caravan and works at the publishing company, says he doesn't think The Farm has turned its back on its hippie roots to become just another capitalist tool.
Instead, he says, The Farm ``honors'' free enterprise and hasn't compromised the original ``right livelihood'' ideals, such as helping mankind by excelling at a task.
Still, he acknowledges: ``It's always been difficult to pin down what we're about and what we believe in.''
Gaskin also doesn't see any compromise in The Farm's success, but can't help but notice the inescapable change in the residents who came here 30 years ago to rebel against their parents and society.
``Now,'' he says, ``we have become the grown-ups.''
On the Net:
The Farm: http://www.thefarm.org
I have to wonder though if it has turned more into a Capitalist Enterprise or if it is still railing against the "Establishment."
Socialists or Sell outs?
Hippie Capitalism Keeps Commune Going
By RUSS OATES
SUMMERTOWN, Tenn. (AP) - Three decades after the golden age of the hippie, about 200 of them are still thriving in a self-supporting commune some three hours east of glitzy Graceland.
Known simply as The Farm, the sprawling collective operates, among other things, a midwife service, a soy products company, a mushroom grower and a factory producing personal radiation detectors.
Established on a 1,800-acre site in 1971, The Farm has outlived nearly all of its tie-dyed contemporaries with a mix of entrepreneurship and idealism, and a touch of sweat.
``We were hippies wanting to live together, and we accepted the discipline it took to do that,'' said Stephen Gaskin, the founder of the commune.
Gaskin, now 68, was teaching in San Francisco when in 1966 he began holding meetings every Monday night on ``what was happening outside his window,'' according The Farm's history posted on its Web site.
The crowds grew, so Gaskin took the gatherings on the road, attracting a throng of followers. The caravan of about 1,500 bought some land in the Lewis County hills and The Farm was formed.
The early days, which Gaskin says were guided by agreements ``looser than handshakes,'' made it though tough times. Some bad investments and an equally poor national economy in the late '70s put The Farm about $400,000 in debt, says Douglas Stevenson, a Farm resident since 1973.
What resulted was ``the changeover'' in 1983, which Stevenson described as the decision to make ``every adult responsible for bringing in some cash.'' Part of The Farm remains collectively held - the land and the commercial buildings remain owned by everyone - but all residents must work.
Stevenson contributes his share of work through Village Media. It started out as a satellite installation company, but now does audio, video and Web work.
Phil Schweitzer, who works with Stevenson, can recall recording Gaskin's first Monday classes on reel-to-reel film. Now he sits editing a couple's wedding using a high-tech video system Village Media is testing for a consumer magazine.
Except for their casual jeans and T-shirts, these graying men in their 50s don't look or act much like the stereotypical, free-spirit hippies. They live with other residents in modest homes spread liberally across the vast fields and forests of the commune property, and they talk wistfully about how they once took their children to play Little League games in nearby Lawrenceburg.
People here may live under a different system than others, Stevenson says, but nobody came here ``trying to escape from anything.''
``Our real objective is communication,'' Schweitzer adds. ``We support ourselves by doing little jobs.''
When it comes to money, The Farm's handle on the books is less exacting than at most businesses. Leaders say they don't know what the commune's overall annual income is.
But SE International, the personal radiation detector factory which Farm residents say is the commune's most profitable business, had revenues of $2.1 million for the most recent fiscal year.
Book publishing was The Farm's original business, and remains collectively owned. Business has grown from the first title - ``This Is The Farm Book,'' published in 1974 - to a catalog of vegetarian books including ``Flax: The Super Food'' and ``Native Plants, Native Healing.''
Warren Jefferson, who came to The Farm on the original caravan and works at the publishing company, says he doesn't think The Farm has turned its back on its hippie roots to become just another capitalist tool.
Instead, he says, The Farm ``honors'' free enterprise and hasn't compromised the original ``right livelihood'' ideals, such as helping mankind by excelling at a task.
Still, he acknowledges: ``It's always been difficult to pin down what we're about and what we believe in.''
Gaskin also doesn't see any compromise in The Farm's success, but can't help but notice the inescapable change in the residents who came here 30 years ago to rebel against their parents and society.
``Now,'' he says, ``we have become the grown-ups.''
On the Net:
The Farm: http://www.thefarm.org