Welcome to the latest installment of RW&G's Profiles in Victory series, showcasing ordinary folks doing some extraordinary things from which we can gain inspiration.
In her twenties, Eve Sibley lived in Brooklyn tending bar, enjoying the vibrant art and music scene, and becoming an anti-gentrification activist.
Now in her early thirties, Eve's working on a soon-to-be-revealed web project related to sustainability and gardening (stay tuned!). She also co-sponsors an online petition to bring back Victory Gardens.
One of the things that I've enjoyed in my correspondence with Eve this summer is her unbridled enthusiasm. And as something of a student of the creative class and its efforts at social entrepreneurship, I find it interesting that the grassroots Victory Garden revival has attracted so many chefs, artists, writers, academics, and other "knowledge workers" lately. Is it really any accident that San Francisco is now ground central for the renaissance? This is one of the dynamic, knowledge-based regional economies, after all, around which award-winning economist Richard Florida built his creative class hypothesis. And the City by the Bay also happens to be where Eve is headed this week to check out the Slow Food Nation Victory Garden.
All that said, Eve's guest post isn't very Victory Garden-centered. Nope, it's about where she chooses to live. Earlier this year, she made an interesting choice: to move off the grid...way off the grid...and into a South Carolina tree house. This is relevant in the larger scheme of things because as sustainability coupled with information technology open the options for where bright young people can reside, we might begin to see some larger population shifts to rural and isolated areas. And while such a bold choice--living in a tree--isn't for everyone, Eve's story offers a lesson in how we can make do with less if that is our intention.
Eve writes of the transition from urban streets to rural branches:
"My friend Alex Padalka, a magazine editor and adventurer from New York, came down to build the tree house with me last fall. We came out to the island with a chainsaw, downloaded instructions on 'how to fell a tree,' and brought quite a few heavy duty bolts. It took a week just to raise the first floor beam. He designed and helped me build the frame and then I added the roof and the walls. I wasn't originally intending to live in the tree house full time, I just thought I might camp here sometimes. But then, in January, I started volunteering with the Obama campaign. I traveled to 5 different states with the campaign and traveled light. After that I knew I was capable of living a full life with just the basic necessities--food, water, shelter, a few clothes, cell phone and my lap-top. I do also have a small book shelf and a couple other gadgets. I moved into the tree house at the end of May.
The island is really neat and filled with history. The majority of inhabitants are Gullah people who are the direct descendants of the African slaves who bought the land at the end of the Civil War. They retained much of their culture and even have their own dialect. This is where Martin Luther King, Jr. used to vacation. The island is also legally protected from over-development because of its rich history, so that's a plus for me.
I live off the grid down a dirt road on a rural island with snakes, bats, cats, spiders, alligators and large birds of prey. However, my neighbors did just build a house to which they ran a power line, but I am kind of having fun doing things the hard way. I have one portable solar panel that charges a battery that I use to charge my laptop. I also have an aircard for my laptop which works great for Internet. I run an extension cord into the tree house up from the battery that I store under the treehouse [for my computer]. The battery has enough charge to give my laptop one full charge. On a sunny day, I can get multiple charges on the battery. I don't use any other electric appliances at the treehouse except my cell phone, which I charge in my car.
As for water, the property is long and thin and the only non-salted underground water we could find [for a well] is at the other end of the property. I am using a generator to power the pump. This means that anytime I want water I have to go down there (600 ft), start the generator, and haul the water back to camp in gallon jugs in my bicycle basket. [Near the well,] I also made an outdoor shower which I love. It consists of a stone on a sand pile under a stand-alone shower spigot attached to a hose. It overlooks a neighbor's cornfield. It's been rewarding to realize the simplicity of living this way; because it's very hot here [in the summer] and I have no air conditioner, I also really have no need to heat water. The water that comes from the ground is probably 55 degrees so the showers are always super refreshing on a hot day. A friend recently pointed out how funny it was that most people take hot showers in a cold house and use a lot of energy to keep it that way.
Anyway, I am certainly no saint when it comes to sustainability. I'm learning as I go. I don't feel righteous about how green I am living compared to other people. It's more like an exiting long-term experiment, and the challenges are fun. I also feel very fortunate to be living this way.
I bought a composting toilet from Sun-Mar which seems to be working well. I toyed with the idea of building one myself but decided to go with the tried and true. The composting toilet has been one of the larger 'psychological shifts' I've experienced out here. Just knowing that I am 'completing the cycle' in that way feels pretty cool.
I am growing my own food though I got a late start on the season so I haven't been harvesting much. I am attempting to follow John Jeavon's biointensive methods by dedicating 1/3 of my garden to growing "compost crops" like fava beans and amaranth that replenish the soil. As for food crops I should very soon be harvesting melons, tomatoes, squash, beans, corn, eggplant, zucchini, and cucumbers. Ive also planted a dwarf lemon tree, lime tree, an orange tree, banana tree and 2 fig trees which I am very exited about. The figs are already bearing.
For transportation I am 95% finished with converting an old 1981 Mercedes diesel to run on vegetable grease. Its been a lot of sweat and time reading manuals over the last year and a half, but I am now very, very close to being there.
The plan is to become as self-sustained as possible by growing my own food and making my own energy so that I will minimize my money owed and can avoid getting a job working for someone else so I can continue to work on things I love.
My friends mostly think I'm crazy but aren't surprised. I would like to think the couple old friends of mine who have visited me here might be impressed with how tough I have become living out here like this--it's clearly very different than New York. My family has been very supportive. My sister has been living off-grid in a cabin in Colorado for 15 years so this isnt completely new to them. My mother gets a little worried during storms though. I sleep in the car if there is a severe storm with large wind gusts but I have rigged the tree house with a lightning system so I usually only get down for a severe wind.
Those of the local community that know I am back here have all been very nice about it. My neighbor's friend runs a summer camp and one day she brought all the kids over for a tour, that was fun. I'm sure some people think I'm weird, but that's okay, I don't mind. A little mystique is always good."Update: From Eve...an interesting point with regard to this post's introduction: "I guess I wouldn't actually say I was a "anti-gentrification" activist because being a white artist moving into a low income neighborhood, I was gentrification. But our motto was "let's stop gentrification mid-stream" so that the good parts--reduction of crime, boom of local economy--don't get overweighed by the bad parts--displacement of community by monotony of cookie-cutter culture. So, I guess it would be more appropriate to say I was an anti-overgentrification activist."
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