Rodrigo Cala walked into the bank thinking it would be his first step on the traditional path to starting a family farm: get a loan, get some land, get some seeds.
But Cala, who had only recently emigrated from Mexico, learned his first lesson in American agriculture when the loan officer found he had no credit score: "If you don't have credit," he recounted, "you don't exist."
In many parts of the world, farming is just about growing food. Minnesota's burgeoning immigrant farmer population is discovering that, in the United States, it is often about business — credit, marketing, contracts and networking.
"Farmers who want to start small farms have huge obstacles," said Hilary Otey Wold, executive director of the Minnesota Food Association. "Immigrant and minority farmers even more."
To help Minnesota's minority farmers overcome those obstacles, Otey Wold's association runs a certified-organic incubator farm called Big River Farms east of the Twin Cities in Marine on St. Croix. The three-year program rents plots of land to farmers and offers training on everything from tractor skills to marketing. Its alumni have gone on to land accounts with Chipotle, Lunds and Byerly's and Whole Foods Market.
Cala, a graduate of the program, now sells leeks, rhubarb, cabbage, cilantro and other produce from his 46-acre farm in Turtle Lake, Wis., to restaurants and wholesalers. "You need to be a really good business person," Cala said. "The hard part for a farmer is not the land or the weather."
Last year, Kano Banjaw, a native Ethiopian and third-year Big River Farms trainee, watched as some of his crops went unsold, then to waste. He and other immigrant farmers had saturated local farmers markets — a familiar format from their home countries — and suffered from the resulting competition among vendors.
"That is the only outlet," he said. "Being a newcomer here to this country … we don't have connections, we don't have networking. "