| |
As the current economy increasingly troubles us, we consider the environment, food safety, animal welfare and emergency preparedness, and strive to become more self-reliant. We are now gardening, canning food and raising chickens for eggs – relaxing activities that provide a sense of security in our urban setting. Unfortunately, unexpected obstacles to living a more sustainable life often arise.
For three years, my husband and I worked at turning our backyard in Salem, Ore., into a permaculture system where everything worked in harmony and little was wasted. We began with a vegetable garden. Next, we were digging up the lawn, making room for a second garden. Then, we added fruit trees and berry bushes. We installed a small greenhouse and a composter. Things were falling into place, but there was one thing missing in our project – chickens.
When we investigated the legality of keeping chickens, they were not specifically mentioned in the city code. Instead, a section of the city code listed “approved land uses,” including raising a 100-pound potbelly pig. Another section of the code prohibited “livestock” in the city. Later, we discovered the city’s definition of livestock included poultry, but we weren’t worried. It also included “all species of swine,” yet pigs were permitted. We thought that if you could keep a big pig, then it would surely be OK to keep a few small hens. Because Salem’s ordinance was so vague, confusing and contradictory, we gave ourselves permission and built our chicken coop.
In no time, half of our yard remained traditional lawn and flower beds, and the rest was converted into a productive ecosystem that sustained us, while saving us money and resources. My hens had just begun laying beautiful eggs when “it” happened in August 2008.
I was shocked to find a code compliance officer at my door. While a neighbor was working on his roof, he had seen our chickens. His complaint wasn’t about noise or smell; it was just that he saw our flock. I refused to give up my birds without a fight.
Certainly, we could reason with people making the rules. After all, government works for the people, and we were in line with projects our city was promoting – community gardens, sustainability, recycling and natural pest control.
I put my four hens in foster care, and I devoted the next six months to researching the subject of urban chicken keeping. We formed a group called Chickens In The Yard (C.I.T.Y.). We joyfully discovered that cities such as Seattle, Denver, New York, and – closer to home – Portland, Ore., already were allowing a limited number of egg-laying hens. More cities were joining the urban chicken movement every week.
We prepared a 60-page informational packet for our city council that addressed every possible concern we could think of and included written statements from officials in chicken-friendly cities explaining how hens had benefited their communities.
The next nine months of exhausting deliberations were not expected. Other people were surprised, as well, because the Salem chicken issue graced the cover of The Wall Street Journal. In spite of the national spotlight, a positive recommendation by city staff, outstanding community support and endorsements from 12 of the 19 neighborhood associations in Salem, the majority of our elected officials voted down the proposed ordinance in October 2009.
As word spread, more people contacted us for advice, seeking us out because of the media attention we received and the research packet for which we had become known. The inquiries compelled us to produce a documentary detailing our struggle to join the urban chicken movement, hoping it would provide a learning experience for others. The film’s main purpose is to educate, raise awareness and dispel chicken-keeping myths. We organized a Web site, Chicken Revolution, devoted to helping people wanting to change city ordinances.
We lost the battle in Salem, but we are winning the war nationwide by motivating others to convince their public officials to provide what we have not (yet) accomplished. While we wait for next May’s election and hope for more pro-chicken council members, we turn our attention elsewhere. Most recently, Forest Grove and Gresham, two other Oregon cities, passed chicken ordinances using our research. It’s a great feeling to know we’ve helped families in Oregon, North Carolina, New Jersey, Minnesota and Kansas get chickens into their yards.
Today, a community known as the “chicken underground” lives and thrives. These otherwise law-abiding citizens raise hens because they’re folks who know the benefits of fresh, homegrown eggs outweigh the risks. Chickens make delightful pets with funny antics and personalities that many people enjoy. Citizens will continue to keep urban hens illegally and look forward to the day they are legal.
What started as a humble effort to regain custody of my hens developed into something
I never could have imagined. At first, I was known as “the Chicken Lady,” but later, after months of struggling for the right to raise my chickens and with no end in sight, my husband started to call me “the Che Guevara of the Chicken Liberation Front.” Eventually, my friend and fellow C.I.T.Y. member Nannette Duryea Martin brought that image to life by designing our new logo, “Che Chicken,” and the Chicken Revolution was hatched. Living a sustainable life should not require a revolution, but in cities where elected representatives are reluctant, that’s how it goes.
I never thought when I picked up my little peeps from the feed store that it would lead me into political activism, public speaking and now documentary filmmaking. It was difficult to give up my own chickens, but I find solace knowing I have helped make a difference in other communities around the nation. Along the way, I’ve made some good friends and now know that “chicken people” are some of the most down-to-earth, most genuine people I’ve ever met. I’m honored to be in their company.
To learn more about changing urban chicken laws, read "The Fight for Raising Chickens in the City" at Grit.
|
