Empire of Dirt

Adventures in Urban Farming

by the Modern Clubman Staff

Driving down Bainbridge street in Richmond, Virginia, I swear I’ve been given the wrong address. After a few passes by what is supposed to be a farm, I concede defeat and call my contact there.

“Are you sure you gave me the right address?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says, “let me step out into the road and flag you down. Take another lap by.” I did as instructed and sure enough, out stepped Jordan Moghanaki in a thrifted Winnie the Pooh sweatshirt, muddy jeans, and sandals. I parked my car and walked up the street to him. He led me up a driveway and into what appeared at first to be a backyard, but upon closer inspection sprawled past the fenceline and into a small farm and pasture. Hoop houses and rows of plants, standing defiant in the bitter cold wind, marked this as something a little more deliberate than a run of the mill city garden.

Urban farming in recent years has become the sort of thing that everybody thinks fondly of and remains more or less oblivious to. Like many initiatives that seek to enrich the world, a barrier remains between most of its supporters, who beyond indicating their support on social media remain completely passive in their support. “Somebody should do it”, think many, “but I’m not the man for the job.”

Moghanaki, in contrast to these voices, is not one for passivity. He (who wrote elsewhere in this issue about his recent experiences bicycling) has long been interested in urban agriculture, but decided several years ago to take it a step further and get his hands dirty. 

“I first started working on the 5th district mini farm in 2018. I met with a community organizer in the hopes of getting an internship and was connected with the farm owner/manager to volunteer. It wasn’t what I expected, but it was definitely what I needed!

“When I moved back to Richmond in 2022, I reconnected with the farm owner and started volunteering again. In the fall, I learned about an urban farming fellowship program that was starting that winter. I applied to the fellowship, with the intention of applying my skills back to the 5th district mini farm. After the classroom portion of the fellowship was completed, I was given a 1/8 acre plot that had recently been cleared.”

An eighth of an acre being a lot for one man with a full time job, Moghanaki decided to keep things manageable in his first year, starting with a 100’ x 40’ strip. Part of his plot extends into a section of overgrown woods, which he intends down the road to turn into a pavilion for gatherings. Initially, he had to clear his site of debris and creeping vines and overgrowth, much of which is invasive. With that done, he set about planting and cultivating. Somewhat limited in terms of resources available, he had to get creative in sourcing seeds and building materials. 

“This first year is about growing whatever seeds I can get for free... which includes squash and peppers from the grocery store, seed packets provided by the community seed exchange, and volunteer crops. I would eventually like to grow mostly native fruits and vegetables, in addition to cover crops that improve the condition of the soil.

“[In general] My project aims to demonstrate low-cost, low-intensity methods to grow produce -- which is another way to say that I’m taking a lazy approach. I’ve tried to minimize spending on materials, utilizing community seed exchanges and looking to repurpose unused materials to create structures. I have had to purchase some structures and soil amendments, but the goal is to have a self-sustaining, regenerative garden that improves soil quality year-over-year.”

For Moghanaki, the goal isn’t to produce massive quantities of food or push the soil to yields that are untenable. Instead, he hopes to use the plot as a teaching tool and a place to demonstrate agricultural concepts. 

“Rather than providing bulk produce to neighbors or markets, I want to use my farm site for smaller batches of demonstration growing, highlighting some compatible planting methods and regenerative agriculture practices.”

Chief among the techniques he’d like to demonstrate is the use of native cover crops between growing seasons. A lot of what grows in the margins and is mistaken for a nuisance is in fact beneficial for soil rejuvenation and replenishment. 

“With more education, I’d also like to plant crops that are traditionally viewed as “weeds”, but are valuable contributors to a biodiverse ecosystem. The first example that comes to mind is clover, which fixes nitrogen to the soil without the use of fertilizer and is a native plant to the area. I remember learning that despite being so beneficial to soil quality, clover was labeled as a weed after RoundUp was released because RoundUp kills clover, and if RoundUp is only supposed to kill weeds then clover must be a weed.”

Outside of growing crops, Moghanaki has a broader, longer term vision for the land. After all, farming is less the management of crops than it is the management of the land, the long term business of accounting for inputs and dealing with trends. Eventually, he hopes to use his full eighth of an acre, but starting with his first year’s plot, he hopes to transform the soil and improve its arability over the course of several growing seasons. 

“The number-one goal is to improve the soil quality. Because the site was previously wooded, it’s quite compacted. My three goals for the first season are to start a compost pile, to create nutrient-rich compost from kitchen and garden waste; build a hoop house that I can use to support tall plants with a trellis and cover with greenhouse plastic for off-season growing; and to pull invasive vines from the remaining trees in the area.”

With this three-pronged plan, he hopes to improve the soil, establish an infrastructure for year-round growing, and rid the trees of noxious invasive plant coverage, thus allowing light to reach the forest floor and giving the trees something of a leg up as they, too, vie for sunlight. This mixture of forest and cleared land in the eighth of an acre Moghanaki has been given to work with is an interesting opportunity, one which he accepts and make the most of. There are plans in the future for a pavilion, further selective forestation, and the cultivation of plants that benefit from the shade of the trees in the heat of the summer. Growing in a liminal space such as this presents challenges, but it presents just as many opportunities, too. 

Looking at the site and listening to the plans for the area, one would be forgiven for taking Moghanaki as strictly-business, someone who knows what he wants to do and how to do it efficiently, but the emotional connection to the project is quite clear when the conversation moves beyond the nuts and bolts of the farm’s operation. 

“With more education, I’d also like to plant crops that are traditionally viewed as “weeds”, but are valuable contributors to a biodiverse ecosystem. The first example that comes to mind is clover, which fixes nitrogen to the soil without the use of fertilizer and is a native plant to the area. I remember learning that despite being so beneficial to soil quality, clover was labeled as a weed after RoundUp was released because RoundUp kills clover, and if RoundUp is only supposed to kill weeds then clover must be a weed.”

Outside of growing crops, Moghanaki has a broader, longer term vision for the land. After all, farming is less the management of crops than it is the management of the land, the long term business of accounting for inputs and 

dealing with trends. Eventually, he hopes to use his full eighth of an acre, but starting with his first year’s plot, he hopes to transform the soil and improve its arability over the course of several growing seasons. 

“The number-one goal is to improve the soil quality. Because the site was previously wooded, it’s quite compacted. My three goals for the first season are to start a compost pile, to create nutrient-rich compost from kitchen and garden waste; build a hoop house that I can use to support tall plants with a trellis and cover with greenhouse plastic for off-season growing; and to pull invasive vines from the remaining trees in the area.”

With this three-pronged plan, he hopes to improve the soil, establish an infrastructure for year-round growing, and rid the trees of noxious invasive plant coverage, thus allowing light to reach the forest floor and giving the trees something of a leg up as they, too, vie for sunlight. This mixture of forest and cleared land in the eighth of an acre Moghanaki has been given to work with is an interesting opportunity, one which he accepts and make the most of. There are plans in the future for a pavilion, further selective forestation, and the cultivation of plants that benefit from the shade of the trees in the heat of the summer. Growing in a liminal space such as this presents challenges, but it presents just as many opportunities, too. 

Looking at the site and listening to the plans for the area, one would be forgiven for taking Moghanaki as strictly-business, someone who knows what he wants to do and how to do it efficiently, but the emotional connection to the project is quite clear when the conversation moves beyond the nuts and bolts of the farm’s operation. 

“From the start, my farming experience has been a form of therapy, forcing me to focus on simple tasks and making decisions that benefit me in the future, even if they are uncomfortable in the present... I have yet to have the often-described ‘aha’ moment where I grow a fruit/vegetable and find that it tastes better than anything I’ve ever bought at the store, though there is a sense of pride when I can grab the last ingredient for dinner from the farm, rather than going to a grocery store.”

There’s also a sense in Moghanaki of a deep interest in the wellbeing of the community in which the garden is located, just a few miles from his own home but in a distinctly different neighborhood. (In Richmond, bisected by a river and defined geographically by several distinct hills, a few miles as the crow flies can be a lot farther by road.) This interest is not prescriptive, though, and Moghanaki stops well short of making demands as to how the neighborhood should receive the work he does on the farm. In general, though, he’d like to see people able to take a more hands-on approach to agriculture and the sourcing of their food. 

“I want to see people moving up the assembly line of growing their own food. It’s not enough to go to a farmers’ market or purchase a CSA share; growing your own food 

is a necessary step in improving the local food ecosystem and economy.”

As for the future, he’s got plans in place, a solid blueprint for how he’d like his eight of an acre to look and plans in turn for how to get it there. More broadly, he’s interested in what the farm might do to him. After all, you can’t expect to spend time cultivating a piece of land and not come out a little different for it. 

“Moving forward, I’m hoping to learn more about patience, being present in the moment, and learning how to identify and avoid poison ivy. There are many lessons still to learn about cultivating plants and improving soil quality, but I am not worrying about those lessons yet.”