Alumni, Arches

Community land preservation may help ensure the future of farming.

Anna Houston '12 and a wooly friend
FARM FAMILY Anna Houston ’12 and her husband have done well as farmers, even though they don’t own the land they work. Now they’re about to benefit from community-supported farmland, an idea that’s gaining momentum across the United States.

As a livestock farmer in the Berkshires of western Massachusetts, Anna Houston ’12 has built a thriving enterprise that hinges on providing her close-knit community with pasture-raised poultry, eggs, and lamb—all produced on a patchwork quilt of other people’s land. 

Since launching Off the Shelf Farm in 2018, Houston and her husband, Rob Perazzo, have relied on handshake lease agreements with neighbors to provide space for their flocks to roam. “We’ve spent six years fertilizing these pastures with our poultry operation, and our sheep and lambs graze on the lush grass we’ve worked so hard to create—none of which we own,” says Houston, for whom long-term land access, via ownership or legal lease, has eluded her. Until now. 

In a bout of tremendous community effort, Off the Shelf Farm is on the move to a 79-acre parcel of flat land called River Run. The Berkshire Community Land Trust, a Great Barrington nonprofit, is buying the $1.65 million property, allowing Houston and Perazzo to lease the land at an affordable rate and steward River Run into the future. Chief among the benefits are long-term stability and the ability to recoup their investments in soil and buildings. 

A chicken walking through foot-high grass

Nationwide, the idea of community supported farmland has been gaining steam, and for good reason: Access to land remains out of reach for many would-be farmers. Across the country, family farms are dwindling due to lack of interest and financial viability. In tourist destinations like the Berkshires, a haven for second-home-owners, real estate prices are perennially sky high; in other regions, including Pierce County, Wash., open space and arable acres face development pressure that’s equally steep. 

“The cost of land is one of the biggest obstacles to getting into farming,” says Emelie Peine, director of the International Political Economy program at University of Puget Sound. 

Nationwide, access to land remains out of reach for many would-be farmers.

Grassy meadow with sheep and blue skies with puffy white clouds above

A 1972 book by Bob Swann titled The Community Land Trust: A Guide to a New Model for Land Tenure in America outlined a tangible means of keeping land affordable, allowing farmers to hold equity, and including the community at large in a commitment to local farming. Across the Pacific Northwest, folks have been digging into farmland preservation for decades. Community Farm Land Trust in Olympia, Wash., began using Swann’s model in 1997 to preserve arable acres and keep them affordable. By offering farmers 99-year lease agreements on land acquired via purchase or donation, the CLT model not only provides farmers long-term land security and allows them to build equity via infrastructure and soil improvements, but it also ensures that the land is preserved for farming in perpetuity. 

“The questions surrounding land and food—particularly where it comes from, how we grow it, and who profits from the systems in place—are pretty foundational to the field,” says Peine. 

According to Washington Farmland Trust, some of the state’s best soil has been lost to development over the past four decades. An estimated 70% of local growers will retire in the next 10 years without a succession plan in place—a problem exacerbated by barriers to land access for new farmers. Systemic racism is one of those barriers: Black farmers, who account for less than 2% of the nation’s total and own less than 1% of the farmland, have historically found it difficult to access financial credit and government programs essential for scaling successful operations. 

A photo of a couple of chickens in a coop on the Off the Shelf Farm Instagram account

If the future of farming hinges on farmland preservation, CLTs are poised to play a pivotal role in building strong communities with thriving local food economies. Back in Massachusetts, the move to River Run will provide Houston crucial resources such as water and power in the field and position her to expand meat-bird operations alone by more than 350%. Having a permanent home means Off the Shelf Farm is finally eligible to receive sizable, state-funded grants—like one recently awarded for the construction of critical infrastructure including a greenhouse and a barn to house the animals. Houston and Perazzo soon will begin anew the years-long process of using nutrient-dense manure to bolster once-dormant fields. Houston anticipates a new challenge a decade down the line: so much forage, due to an abundance of nutrition in the soil, that she and Perazzo are forced to expand again. At least that’s their hope. 

For Houston, community remains the cornerstone of daily life—an enduring lesson learned during her time as a Logger. From her leadership role with Puget Sound Outdoors to her study abroad semester in India, a single seed was sown: the importance of creating a community where one lives. Right now, that community includes fellow food producers, local consumers, donors, and members of the local land trust. 

“The CLT model aspires to be a resource, one that requires all of us to rely on each other,” Houston explains. 

Houston once aspired to live abroad and pursue international development. In retrospect, the path she’s pursued has proven even more powerful and meaningful. “So long as enough people step up and commit to one another, the power of working together gives back in dividends."