What's changed for women in farming?

The Advocate, May 30, 2013

Last night I was part of a panel discussion in Devonport organised by the National Trust. It's been 70 years since Dame Enid Lyons was elected to federal parliament and became the first woman in the House of Representatives. We were asked to reflect on the progress, or lack of progress, in our own professions.

I’ve been thinking about the grandmother I never met, Bessie Wood, who had three children and a husband with itchy feet.

Around 70 years ago the family were living on a farm at Forth, and while I don’t really know what they farmed – I assume they had a mixture of beef cattle, potatoes, and a milking cow – there are three things I remember Dad telling me about that time:

• His mother would make the bread using home-made potato yeast. She’d cook in a Peter’s Oven and judge the temperature by putting her hand in (if the hairs sizzled it was too hot…)
• The family had home-cured bacon, made in a wooden box full of salt, and the meat had to be turned and turned through the process
• And when the men were in the bush working and it was time for lunch, Grandmother would use a bugle to summon them back to the house

70 years later, I’m trying to keep my sourdough bread starter alive, we turn about 20 pork legs into ham a week, and I have been known to get out my tenor horn and play reveille at lunchtime when we’ve got visitors out on the farm.

So have we progressed? That’s the big question. And I think it’s a difficult question to answer in my area of farming, because the family farm is a complex workplace where roles are blurred and sometimes not even defined. Respect is often gained in small circles, but sometimes with no public or broader recognition.

I suspect that a lot women farmers do the same sorts of jobs they did 70 years ago: a mixture of outside and manual work, looking after finances and correspondence, trying to save money while other family members are trying to spend it, and I reckon the majority are still doing more than 50 per cent of the housework and cooking.

The difference might be, that instead of growing only fresh spuds and milk we’ve got opportunities now to produce gourmet potatoes for the Sydney markets, and milk powder for the Chinese middle-class. We’ve got a world to sell to – and we can do it all online if we want. So the opportunities for women to do interesting, rewarding work in agriculture have grown along with our markets and technology.

We have some fantastic examples of women farmers in northern Tasmania. I’m lucky that I get to see some of them regularly at farmers’ markets and foodie groups we’re part of. These are my inspiration:

• Emma-Lynne Pinner who’s a dairy farmer at Brittons Swamp, but also runs Pure Sense and a growing number of other businesses. I think she told me she does 5 business activity statements each quarter.
• Andy Jackman from Red Cow Dairies at Oldina, who used to be in the police force, became a dairy farmer and is now a cheese-maker
• Leonie Hiscutt who has a cropping farm at Howth, who got into tourism, was very involved in the local chamber of commerce, and now is in the Legislative Council.
• Marilyn Brack, an ex-teacher, who produces goats’ milk, cheese, and yoghurt at Mathom Farm at Gunns Plains
• Then there’s garlic grower Rosie Mackinnon, Melina Parker managing a vegetable farm Don, Lesley Frampton on a dairy farm at Gawler, Carol O’Neil with her olive oil….

The list goes on and on and on, and there are so many others who haven’t had their faces in the Tas Country or The Advocate, who are making good returns for their businesses, raising children, and participating in their communities.

I think it’s important that we do continue to try and get our heads in the newspaper, even if we might feel embarrassed, and as though we’re self-promoting. It’s about changing the stereotype in the wider community. Within farming circles there is a great appreciation of women’s role. A dairy farmer told me that his wife’s role of mending socks and feeding the family was just as important as the other farm jobs, because you can’t work with blisters on an empty stomach. I get a bit irritated when customers at the farmers' markets ask me where I get the meat from that I’m selling. I have to try and convince them that it’s from my farm, and I’m a pig farmer, don’t I look like one?!

As a rural reporter, I went along to a lot of male-dominated boring industry meetings that were not inspiring, and were very negative. I can see why women aren’t involved: because they’ve got heaps better things to do. But I think that when the time is right, and a woman in farming has experiences to share and can prioritise these meetings, I think some of us – if we’ve got the right skills – need to go through the pain of sitting at a board table or in a price negotiation meeting, so that the debate is a bit more balanced. We might actually hear farmers being positive about the future of agriculture.

On the day of our fourth anniversary at Mount Gnomon

On the anniversary of four years at Mount Gnomon: a selection of photos from our farm.

It feels significantly longer than four years - and the grey hairs and wrinkles support that!

But as the song says, all you need is love, and without love we wouldn't be here riding the roller coaster of farming.

A special breed

X4 and her calf at Mount Gnomon                       Photo: Eliza Wood

It’s been more than two years since our first Traditional Dairy Shorthorn cattle stepped off a truck onto Mount Gnomon Farm at Penguin, in Tasmania’s north-west.

When Warrick and Betty Holmes sold their girls, we were very fortunate to be given the opportunity to buy a portion of the herd.

Since then, the numbers have slowly grown, and we now have almost 20 females on the property.

We have sourced additional heifers from local dairy farmer Symon Jones, who lives just over the mountain from us.

The dairy shorthorns give us so much pleasure – they are stunning to look at, and they are friendly and easy to handle.

You also never know what you’re going to get at calving time. Often the roan cows produce white calves, and the white cows surprise us with roan calves.

Our goal has always been to direct-market their meat and engage consumers in the dairy shorthorn story.

As the first steer grew closer to size, we crossed our fingers that his meat would fulfill our expectations.

We remember that first piece of porterhouse so well. It was buttery, beautifully marbled and had a texture like none of the other breeds we had processed.

The feedback from the customers across the markets in Tasmania was incredibly positive, and that confirmed in our minds that this was the meat breed we wanted to keep.

Supply has been the biggest issue, and we have sourced young steers from Victoria to fatten on our farm to supplement our own production. It means we can provide customers with dairy shorthorn meat more frequently, and continue to promote the breed while our own numbers increase.

The dairy shorthorn in listed on the Ark of Taste – an international list of flavours at risk of extinction. Our meat was a feature of Slow Food Hobart’s Christmas dinner, which Guy attended (for quality control, of course!).

Our future plans include increasing our production of dairy shorthorn meat; milking a handful to supplement our weaned Wessex saddleback pigs; and promoting the dairy shorthorn as a perfect cow for the smallholder.

Next year we will open a rare breeds interpretation centre on the farm, at which we will hold courses on keeping house cows, making cheese and yoghurt, and numerous animal-related topics. The possibilities are endless!