December 28, 2024

Hello fellow farmers, neighbors, friends, and local vegetable eaters.

This year I dropped off the map after the end of the farmers market season, and it wasn’t just from frost and exhaustion. My time, care, and attention needed to turn towards my family in a big way, so I have paused things like writing to you all for awhile.

In September my husband Michael Hatch went in for his first scheduled, routine colonoscopy and came home with a diagnosis of Stage 3 colorectal cancer at age 48.

It has been quite a ride since September. He had major surgery to remove the tumor, and we are about to enter his fifth week of chemo and radiation treatment with one more after that. We have been spending the weeks in Boise with his folks for treatment and home on the weekends, leaving the care and feeding of our daughter in the hands of my family and friends. My parents are amazing.

We have more chemo and possibly more surgeries to go, but by the end of 2025, I hope we will be celebrating his freedom from cancer on a beach somewhere.

I know many of you have had or do have experienced serious health issues personally or with your loved ones. Some of you are in it now. I first want to apologize for my own lack understanding and deep attention to you in times of precarious health. You can’t know what you don’t know until you do, but I have realized how I didn’t know how to treat health issues. I didn’t come through for those in my community in the best way, and I didn’t think deeply enough about what was needed. Sure, I check in on folks and made some food, but not in the sustained way that is needed. I am really sorry.

The reason I know that my approach was inadequate is because of how you all have cared for us. The gifts of meals, groceries, cards, conversations, hugs, and knowing looks have been ongoing and they have come from both expected and unexpected places. Friends, neighbors, and of course family, have showed up at our house to make pie; to fix fence; to take our daughter out for the day. You all have been steady, and you all have known what to do for us. You have known this is hard for Hatch, but also for our daughter Chloe, me, and my parents.

So, as I reflect on the end of the year, I am overcome with the care, attention, and bravery of the people in our orbit. It takes bravery to send a card or start a conversation about cancer, mortality, and well, the rectum. Mostly, folks have not shied away.

It is powerful to feel this much love.

What now, what next

When folks ask what they can do or what we need, the list is pretty simple.

First, checking in on us–visits, calls, texts, cards–has been so helpful. I told Hatch last week, “I want to go through this cancer with a house full of people.” For us, that has been the way through. We are open about things, not trying to hide or struggle alone. We have found a natural rhythm of conversation that is a salad of normal stuff and jokes and cancer talk.

Second, Hatch has a specific request. He wrote a beautiful letter below in which he asks folks to get over the “yuck” factor and get screened for colorectal cancer early. There are at home kits (Cologuard) to start with, so you don’t have to go in for a hospital procedure. And I know many of you have a kit mailed from your insurance company long ignored and squirreled away somewhere.

For “fun,” Hatch and I are keeping track of the number of colonoscopies rippling out from his diagnosis, so let us know if you finally got screened. I will even give you a bag of salad for your efforts! But seriously, Hatch gets a lot of meaning from catalyzing colorectal cancer screenings and from his participation in an international, longitudinal study on colorectal cancer in young people.

Third, help us keep community things going. One of my biggest concerns has been that the things Hatch and I have helped build will suffer. For him, it is all things outdoors like the Wallowa Avalanche Center, Backcountry Festival, the Outdoor Adventure Program, kids summer camps, and outdoor education. For me it is the local food and agriculture, the food bank and farmers market, the Cove Community Association, and all the ad hoc, informal things we do to support our neighbors. If you feel inspired and have the ability to step into any of these community building activities, we would so appreciate it.

Finally, as for the farm next year, things are a bit up in the air. I need to be available for the health stuff, and frankly, I need to work my benefited, better paying (and super meaningful) other job at Oregon Rural Action more to keep things afloat for my family.

We will still feed you because Samirah Miller, the 2024 farm apprentice, is staying on as a farm partner for the coming year. For those of you who have met Samirah, you know her spirit, knowledge, and leadership on the farm is nothing but a blessing. (Unfortunately, Samirah tore her Achilles tendon this fall, so she is recovering and will be a bit limited.) Our other farming colleague, India Wright is also coming back next season, and is taking on more leadership as well. We will figure it out, but it will be a challenging year.

But, with all the love and you all, our community, we can do hard things.

I wish you all peace, love, and joy, happy solstice, happy holidays, and a bright new year. Plant some seeds and stay in touch.

Love from your farmer,

Nella Mae

Letter from my Husband, Michael Hatch

“Dear Colleagues, 

Last week I was diagnosed with Stage 3 rectal cancer. During a recent colonoscopy a tumor was discovered and a week and a half ago I had surgery to remove that tumor. The pathology report came back positive for cancer which was also detected in one of my lymph nodes. 

The next six months to a year will be a combination of treatments including radiation, chemotherapy, and surgery. The good news is a cancer free outcome is highly probable, but it will be a long hard road to recovery. 

So, why am I telling you this? For one I want to be honest about what is going on with my health and the impact cancer is going to have on my work at Eastern Oregon University. …there will be potential negative impacts to the amount of programming and number of courses offered in the coming year. My time in treatment and recovery will have me gone from campus for extended periods of time. I have a great team of students working for me and much support …and we will do our best to keep the Outdoor Adventure Program running as smoothly as possible. I ask for your patience during this uncertain time. 

Another reason for disclosure is I want to continue the work of so many brave cancer survivors, and those with loved ones battling cancer, to de-stigmatize the sensitivity to talking about colorectal cancer and hopefully get more folks to seek preventative treatment like home sampling and colonoscopies. According to the National Cancer Institute, colorectal cancer is a leading cause of cancer death among people under 50 in the United States, with rates of new diagnoses still climbing in this age group. If you notice any significant changes to your bowel movements or blood in your stool go get it checked out. Many doctors are recommending anyone over the age of 45 now get a colonoscopy. Early detection is key to saving lives and having the best medical and quality of life outcomes. 

Lastly, as my wife Nella and I are huge believers in the power of community to help us thrive, I want to put out a call to all EOU faculty and staff to think about ways you can engage each other and students in more outdoor programming.

I cherish my connections and friendships in this community. Already, my heart and soul have been overwhelmed with the amount of love, compassion, and care shown to me and my family. Words cannot express the fullness of my gratitude…thank you, thank you, thank you. 

If you see me around campus, I hope you won’t feel awkward in saying hi or having a conversation. Life goes on, and I’m doing alright. As Diana Ross sang, “I’ve got all my life to live and all my love to give. I’ll survive. I will survive.”

Warm Regards, 

Michael Hatch”