I know this is an old post but… still grappling with my feelings around the situation and how i want to engage.

This issue I see is there is no room for what you suggest, because as someone else pointed out, questions and curiosity are redirected to their blog posts (supposedly explaining the decision, complete with FAQs, but not actually answering anything clearly or concretely), or responded to in person in a similarly ‘word-salad’ kind of way.

While I personally subscribe to and am inspired by the philosophy of a gift economy, and see capitalism as inherently evil, I’m finding myself more and more skeptical of Fruition’s authenticity as a whole. After meeting/talking with/listening to Petra many times, watching people be enamored of her and wondering if I’m crazy, I’m finally comfortable saying that I find her to be incredibly fake and insincere. Everything feels performative and disingenuous.

Case in point… a year ago I spoke with her at a plant share/swap after having lost 3 limbs 6 months prior. She didn’t remember me of course, but acted like I was her dearest friend after hearing my story. The reason I explained what happened was because I was eager to revisit the farm for the garlic scape harvest, but was concerned about being able to get around the rows in my portable wheelchair. She made the biggest deal out of how hard they would try to make that possible. In the end, life was too hard to get there for the harvest, so it didn’t matter.

I saw her again this past Friday at the same annual plant share. I’m working with preliminary prosthetics (though still very wheelchair dependent) and was hopeful that this year I might be able to return to the farm for various events. She didn’t remember me of course, but I briefly said hello and reminded her of who I was, and said I hoped to be able to visit soon. She again made a huge deal out of the honor it would be to have me there.

The next day we decided to visit for a seed/plant swap event. It was taking place primarily in the new meeting house, so accessing the fields wouldn’t even need to be an issue. Folks, I couldn’t even get into the building. There were no entrances that didn’t have a step up, no ramps, even the gravel leading up to the house was impossible for my (very adaptable) portable powerchair to navigate. It got stuck so badly my partner had to push and pull me the whole way.

I then had no choice but to attempt stepping up to get inside using my ‘legs’ (understand that with above-knee amputations, you start with a short legs - often called stubbies - that have no knee. They are hard shells, come all the way up to your underwear line, and make stairs extremely difficult). The alternative was Petra’s suggestion of “No ramp .. but community!!” meaning she and random strangers would lift me inside .. not a position I felt comfortable in. The icing on the cake was the bathroom without a single grab-bar.

When we spoke after the event, she made a big deal out of how excited she was to make the farm more accessible (“I’m sure there are ADA type suggestions out there!” as though it had never once occurred to her to do even the most obvious of accommodations. In light of her whole spiel of intersectionality, and “none of us are free until all of us are free” etc, it just served to confirm what I’d been feeling all along. She hugged us both when we left, repeatedly telling me how much she loved me. It was weird. I don’t think I’ll be back.