Earlier this month, I harvested some chickens. I don’t often talk about butchering animals, mainly because knowing that a friend willingly takes the life of other creatures can be an unsettling thing to learn. Many of you who follow my social media have known me long before I started Air’s Wild Acres; while it might be fun to see the baby animals and all of the effort I’ve put into creating a sanctuary for myself and others here, there are many, many aspects of having a hobby farm that are absolutely not cute.
Butchering poultry is one of those “not cute” things. I’ve done it several times over the last four years (both chickens and ducks), and aspects of the process have gotten easier to manage, with regard to my own emotions, and the actual act. I’ve memorized the bird anatomy and know where to do what, and I’ve improved my tools and streamlined the process. It now takes me hours to do the same amount of birds that once took me a full day.
However, so much of the act of harvesting animals will never be easy. Ending the life of another individual is obviously the worst part of the whole thing, but aside from that, the work is smelly and dirty, my back always hurts when I’m done, and there’s so many reasons to be anxious about it. While I feel confident in my methods now and have eaten enough of my birds to know I’m doing it “correctly,” there is always a risk when dealing with poultry, or any raw meat. I constantly have to remind myself that, long before industrial agriculture became a thing, people would process animals without the understanding of hygiene, or even the same access to hot water, that we have now.
So, why do I do it? This is a question I get often about all of the things I do on my hobby farm. Why raise animals when it causes so much heartbreak and definitely does not give us a profit? We still have to do *most* of our grocery shopping in town, so why subject ourselves to all this work for a fraction of our protein consumption, and at a cost far higher than what we would pay for meat in the grocery store. “Chicken is cheap,” as the saying goes…
Discounted meat is discounted for a reason. If you aren’t paying for it economically or with your own labor, then a low cost comes at the expense of the health and wellness of other individuals and/or the environment. Large scale poultry companies, those that provide the low cost chicken that is readily available at many of our grocery stores, are notorious for unsafe work conditions and problems of animal welfare. On average, people are suffering in terrible conditions to process hybrid, short-lived birds that do not live their best life, in conditions that are also likely contaminating the environment in various ways (air, soil, water).
A normal person might read the extensive number of opinions and research on the human rights violations in the chicken industry, the disease issues, and problems of animal health and wellness, and, I don’t know, just not eat chicken. I, however, am a meat eater and I’m probably also not normal. For reasons related to chronic low-level anemia, among other things, I will continue to eat animal proteins in spite of their known impact on the planet. I thus feel morally obligated to try and eat animals that are produced with minimal environmental externalities, and are also not causing the next pandemic or resulting in loss of limb and life to individuals who work in the animal industry. Reasonably, I could find a local farm that produces meat in a way that does not negatively impact our communities, but again, why would I do that when I could do it myself?
I’d like to say that much of my motivations are related to the ethical aspects of meat consumption, but I’m human and I’m not perfect. To put this much time, money and effort into something must require a benefit more substantial than vibes, unfortunately, and that payoff is in flavor. And it is so, so worth it. Every animal I have processed is so rich in taste, in part because I have witnessed many moments of its life and I thus know how it lived, and I take pride in that. But more importantly, having the willingness and skill to raise one’s own food provides access to diversity of flavors that are simply unavailable in a grocery store. I am absolutely not one for conformity, when it comes to food or anything else, and if the only way I will have access to better food products (meat included) is to raise it myself, so be it.
I have so much more to say on the topic of poultry harvesting, thanks to my recent forte in butchering, but also from my youth at Rivers End Chicken Ranch, where my parents raised meat birds commercially in houses of up to 50,000 birds. Too, after a career that spans two decades of worrying about food security for some of our most marginalized communities, my optimism (“every problem has a solution”) has officially transitioned to a point of concern. If we, as individuals, would like to continue to have autonomy over that which we eat, we need to spend more time understanding how that food gets to our plate. There may come a time when climate change, capitalism—or whatever other macro factor outside of our control—will limit our access to products we once loved… Maybe I’ve read too much dystopian fiction in my life, but I will be very happy I have the skills to butcher chickens when the alternative could be far worse.
Jokes aside, I feel obliged to offer a call to action: I’m not asking people to butcher their own chickens, but I am asking you to maybe think about the processes behind the food you eat. I have 15 ducks in the coop right now that are 7 weeks away from entering my kitchen. If you’re interested, join me on June 20th. It will suck: your body and mind will hurt. But will you eat one of the best meals of your life afterward? Probably.
Air's Wild Acres 