"As a very conservative person, my politics more often than not fall on the Republican side of issues. Trying to separate the person from the politics is difficult. I never knew who Craig Hickman was until my wife told me that she bought eggs from his farm. I knew Craig's farm better than I knew him. My uncle married the daughter of one of its previous occupants so I spent a fair amount of time helping out there when I wasn't busy on the Cobb Farm. It wasn't until I read an essay in the local paper that I wondered who Craig Hickman really was. The essay was about closing the local hot meal kitchen. My grandmother Marion Cobb cooked in the hot meal kitchen since its inception until she physically could no longer help. In response, Craig opened his farm and his kitchen to anyone that was hungry and had no idea where the next meal was coming from. I knew Grandma would have done the same. By transcending the politics of a church that he doesn't even belong to, he created a ripple effect that ultimately resulted in the reopening of the hot meal kitchen. My grandmother would be proud of Craig. We have since become friends and he is proving to be a selfless individual with his time and efforts. He epitomizes a productive community member. I am proud to know him. He has my vote."
— Justin Cobb, Winthrop
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Food Is Life: Remarks to Students at Maranacook Community School, October 20, 2011
I want to thank Pat Stanton, dean of students, for inviting me to speak for your Make A Difference general assembly today. I’m so tired, my legs can hardly hold me up, but here I am. It’s hard to turn down an opportunity to speak to young people who inspire with their commitment and desire to feed people. I'm honored to be here.
A wise man once said, “There’s a hunger beyond food that’s expressed in food, and that’s why feeding is always a kind of miracle.”
There’s a hunger beyond food that’s expressed in food, and that’s why feeding is always a kind of miracle.
::
Back when I was a kid in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, our family struggled to make ends meet. My father worked the first shift at Pabst Blue Ribbon Company in the mail room. A World War II veteran with little education, he was basically the company mailman. My mother held a string of part-time jobs to help put food on the table for their two children. As hard as they both worked, and they worked hard, we needed food stamps in order to survive. Still, my parents made clear in both word and deed that no matter how little we had, someone else had less and we needed to help them however we could.
I’ll never forget the day. I was about three or four years old when a young girl who smelled of dried urine knocked on our door. My father was at work, my sister at school. My mother let the girl in and escorted her to the bathroom where she drew a bath for the girl, who couldn’t have been more than 12 years old. After bathing her, my mother gave her a blouse and a pair of pants and sat her down at the kitchen table for a steaming bowl of Cream of Wheat, bacon and toast. I couldn’t believe how fast the girl devoured it all. It was an image that stuck with me, like good preaching. She ate another bowl of cereal and then my mother let her take a nap on the couch. Later, when it was time for her to leave, my mother handed the girl a brown paper bag with a change of clothes and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich inside.
I couldn’t count how many girls came knocking on our door over the next months, but they came nonetheless. My mother cared for each of them in almost the exact same way, like ritual. Our home was a stop on an underground railroad for throwaway girls.
It’s no surprise, then, that I would turn my current home into place where anyone, no matter their need, can come at any time, no questions asked, and receive food.
If it takes a village to raise a child, it takes an entire community to feed an entire community.
::
Food is life.
When I first made the community aware a year ago that free food was available at the farm 24-7, I heard all sorts of caveats and concerns. “What if someone takes all the fresh food from your farm stand and goes out and sells it?” Where is the love in that question? “Then I guess they need the money to make their rent or pay their mortgage,” I replied. “How can you be so sure that the people who take it really need it if you don’t ask any questions?” You can’t.
But so what.
Last Wednesday, during preparations for the Hot Meal To-Go at Annabessacook Farm that the Winthrop Hot Meal Kitchen provides each Wednesday until we can find a permanent home to provide food and fellowship for people each weekday, a woman called to ask if we still had half a bushel of tomatoes to sell. Her voice sounded vaguely familiar, but I didn’t recognize whose it was. I told her we did and asked her what she wanted them for. “Canning,” she said. “Then we have some left to sell,” I replied. It’s late in the year and tomatoes have pretty much gone by, but we were lucky enough in recent weeks to harvest another three bushels perfect for canning because most of our plants grew in a greenhouse film-covered tunnel in the middle of the field behind the barn.
“How much are you asking for them?” she asked timidly. From her tone, I sensed she had need.
“How much are you offering?”
“10 bucks,” she replied, a question mark still in her voice.
“Perfect. Do you know where we are?”
“Oh, yes. I’ll be over this afternoon.”
Hours later, a woman walked up to the door, a woman I hadn’t seen since last summer. From September through November, she came once or twice a week and purchased pounds of Swiss chard, bushels of tomatoes, cartons of squash. She was preparing for winter and I was honored she chose our farm to buy the food she would process for her family.
“I haven’t seen you in a long time.”
“I’m unemployed now.” The look on her face broke my heart.
“Was it you who called earlier about tomatoes?”
She nodded. I nearly lost it. I wouldn’t call her my friend – we don’t hang out and do stuff together or anything – but she’s certainly my neighbor. I knew she worked for the State of Maine and with all the recent budget cuts, it didn’t surprise me that she’d lost her job. I also knew she had a big extended family to feed and here she was on my doorstep knowing we give away food but offering to buy a half bushel of tomatoes nonetheless.
I tried not to be awkward. I’m not sure I succeeded.
“Um. Well. It’s Wednesday and we offer a free hot meal today in addition to the fresh veggies. Would you like one?”
She shook her head, eyes cast down at the ground upon which we stood.
“We’ll, I’ll be insulted if you don’t take some of this food I cooked, so here.” She obliged. I gave her four meals, asked her to put them in her car and meet me in the garage so I could show her where the tomatoes were.
She handed me the 10 bucks before walking to her car. I didn’t refuse the money because I’ve been poor and hungry and it still never felt right to me to take anything for free since I was lucky enough to always have a few dollars to give. Clearly, she felt the same way. I didn’t want to insult her either.
After we showed her which box to fill up with organic tomatoes, my godson and I left her alone in the garage where all of our fall harvest is stored. Winter squash and pumpkins. Melons, carrots, turnips, rutabagas, and beets. Potatoes, sweet potatoes, cabbage, onions and leeks.
We sat in the kitchen and watched her through the window put the box of tomatoes in her car. Then she went back and got two more boxes of something else. That made my heart sing.
And so it was that a woman in need called on a hot-meal Wednesday offering to buy tomatoes so she wouldn’t feel shame about coming to receive the food she needed. That’s called pride. And I know there are lots of people like her who would never use a traditional food pantry they’d have to sign-in for because their pride simply wouldn’t allow it.
When she was leaving, she saw my godson and expressed her gratitude with a smile. “Tell Craig thanks so much for everything.”
If you saw her walking down the street, you probably wouldn’t think she was hungry. That she needed food. You can’t always tell. You just can’t. You can’t ever be sure the level of need a person has, but know this: everyone has a right to food so we must make sure we don’t keep anyone from the table. No one among us should go hungry for a single day. Put another way: we cannot allow a single person among us to go hungry for a single day.
::
Now make no mistake, feeding people isn’t a selfless act. We’re only as strong as the least among us, so if one person is hungry, we’re all hungry. Moreover, the miracle of feeding people that the wise man I mentioned earlier spoke of happens as much inside the person giving the food as it does in the person receiving it. That’s how love works. The act of giving brings me joy. Pure joy.
Sometimes I happen to be in the music room in the front of the house when I see someone through the window gathering food off the farm stand by the side of the road. Much of the food there disappears in the middle of the night so if I catch a chance during the day, I always stay and watch until they’re finished. What will they take? What do they like to eat? What do I need to grow more of next year? I’ll watch them fill up a bag and drive away. Sometimes a person will sample something – a string bean or a cherry tomato – and decide it’s not sweet enough or firm enough and they’ll choose something else. Sometimes I feel like I’m spying on them, but hey, they can’t see me inside, it’s all out in the open anyway, so I get over myself and allow my writer’s curiosity to win out. When I watch a hungry person or a person in need have a chance to actually choose what they take to eat, I smile then. Or laugh out loud, rain falling from my eyes.
::
Food is life. People who want to live need to eat. And there’s no reason whatsoever why we can’t come together as a community and feed them. I’m going to say that again:
People who want to live need to eat. And there’s no reason whatsoever why we can’t come together as a community and feed them.
So go, young people. Go. Out into the community and collect as many pounds of food as you can collect for the agencies in your community that feed the people.
Food is life.
Now go. Make miracles.
A wise man once said, “There’s a hunger beyond food that’s expressed in food, and that’s why feeding is always a kind of miracle.”
There’s a hunger beyond food that’s expressed in food, and that’s why feeding is always a kind of miracle.
::
Back when I was a kid in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, our family struggled to make ends meet. My father worked the first shift at Pabst Blue Ribbon Company in the mail room. A World War II veteran with little education, he was basically the company mailman. My mother held a string of part-time jobs to help put food on the table for their two children. As hard as they both worked, and they worked hard, we needed food stamps in order to survive. Still, my parents made clear in both word and deed that no matter how little we had, someone else had less and we needed to help them however we could.
I’ll never forget the day. I was about three or four years old when a young girl who smelled of dried urine knocked on our door. My father was at work, my sister at school. My mother let the girl in and escorted her to the bathroom where she drew a bath for the girl, who couldn’t have been more than 12 years old. After bathing her, my mother gave her a blouse and a pair of pants and sat her down at the kitchen table for a steaming bowl of Cream of Wheat, bacon and toast. I couldn’t believe how fast the girl devoured it all. It was an image that stuck with me, like good preaching. She ate another bowl of cereal and then my mother let her take a nap on the couch. Later, when it was time for her to leave, my mother handed the girl a brown paper bag with a change of clothes and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich inside.
I couldn’t count how many girls came knocking on our door over the next months, but they came nonetheless. My mother cared for each of them in almost the exact same way, like ritual. Our home was a stop on an underground railroad for throwaway girls.
It’s no surprise, then, that I would turn my current home into place where anyone, no matter their need, can come at any time, no questions asked, and receive food.
If it takes a village to raise a child, it takes an entire community to feed an entire community.
::
Food is life.
When I first made the community aware a year ago that free food was available at the farm 24-7, I heard all sorts of caveats and concerns. “What if someone takes all the fresh food from your farm stand and goes out and sells it?” Where is the love in that question? “Then I guess they need the money to make their rent or pay their mortgage,” I replied. “How can you be so sure that the people who take it really need it if you don’t ask any questions?” You can’t.
But so what.
Last Wednesday, during preparations for the Hot Meal To-Go at Annabessacook Farm that the Winthrop Hot Meal Kitchen provides each Wednesday until we can find a permanent home to provide food and fellowship for people each weekday, a woman called to ask if we still had half a bushel of tomatoes to sell. Her voice sounded vaguely familiar, but I didn’t recognize whose it was. I told her we did and asked her what she wanted them for. “Canning,” she said. “Then we have some left to sell,” I replied. It’s late in the year and tomatoes have pretty much gone by, but we were lucky enough in recent weeks to harvest another three bushels perfect for canning because most of our plants grew in a greenhouse film-covered tunnel in the middle of the field behind the barn.
“How much are you asking for them?” she asked timidly. From her tone, I sensed she had need.
“How much are you offering?”
“10 bucks,” she replied, a question mark still in her voice.
“Perfect. Do you know where we are?”
“Oh, yes. I’ll be over this afternoon.”
Hours later, a woman walked up to the door, a woman I hadn’t seen since last summer. From September through November, she came once or twice a week and purchased pounds of Swiss chard, bushels of tomatoes, cartons of squash. She was preparing for winter and I was honored she chose our farm to buy the food she would process for her family.
“I haven’t seen you in a long time.”
“I’m unemployed now.” The look on her face broke my heart.
“Was it you who called earlier about tomatoes?”
She nodded. I nearly lost it. I wouldn’t call her my friend – we don’t hang out and do stuff together or anything – but she’s certainly my neighbor. I knew she worked for the State of Maine and with all the recent budget cuts, it didn’t surprise me that she’d lost her job. I also knew she had a big extended family to feed and here she was on my doorstep knowing we give away food but offering to buy a half bushel of tomatoes nonetheless.
I tried not to be awkward. I’m not sure I succeeded.
“Um. Well. It’s Wednesday and we offer a free hot meal today in addition to the fresh veggies. Would you like one?”
She shook her head, eyes cast down at the ground upon which we stood.
“We’ll, I’ll be insulted if you don’t take some of this food I cooked, so here.” She obliged. I gave her four meals, asked her to put them in her car and meet me in the garage so I could show her where the tomatoes were.
She handed me the 10 bucks before walking to her car. I didn’t refuse the money because I’ve been poor and hungry and it still never felt right to me to take anything for free since I was lucky enough to always have a few dollars to give. Clearly, she felt the same way. I didn’t want to insult her either.
After we showed her which box to fill up with organic tomatoes, my godson and I left her alone in the garage where all of our fall harvest is stored. Winter squash and pumpkins. Melons, carrots, turnips, rutabagas, and beets. Potatoes, sweet potatoes, cabbage, onions and leeks.
We sat in the kitchen and watched her through the window put the box of tomatoes in her car. Then she went back and got two more boxes of something else. That made my heart sing.
And so it was that a woman in need called on a hot-meal Wednesday offering to buy tomatoes so she wouldn’t feel shame about coming to receive the food she needed. That’s called pride. And I know there are lots of people like her who would never use a traditional food pantry they’d have to sign-in for because their pride simply wouldn’t allow it.
When she was leaving, she saw my godson and expressed her gratitude with a smile. “Tell Craig thanks so much for everything.”
If you saw her walking down the street, you probably wouldn’t think she was hungry. That she needed food. You can’t always tell. You just can’t. You can’t ever be sure the level of need a person has, but know this: everyone has a right to food so we must make sure we don’t keep anyone from the table. No one among us should go hungry for a single day. Put another way: we cannot allow a single person among us to go hungry for a single day.
::
Now make no mistake, feeding people isn’t a selfless act. We’re only as strong as the least among us, so if one person is hungry, we’re all hungry. Moreover, the miracle of feeding people that the wise man I mentioned earlier spoke of happens as much inside the person giving the food as it does in the person receiving it. That’s how love works. The act of giving brings me joy. Pure joy.
Sometimes I happen to be in the music room in the front of the house when I see someone through the window gathering food off the farm stand by the side of the road. Much of the food there disappears in the middle of the night so if I catch a chance during the day, I always stay and watch until they’re finished. What will they take? What do they like to eat? What do I need to grow more of next year? I’ll watch them fill up a bag and drive away. Sometimes a person will sample something – a string bean or a cherry tomato – and decide it’s not sweet enough or firm enough and they’ll choose something else. Sometimes I feel like I’m spying on them, but hey, they can’t see me inside, it’s all out in the open anyway, so I get over myself and allow my writer’s curiosity to win out. When I watch a hungry person or a person in need have a chance to actually choose what they take to eat, I smile then. Or laugh out loud, rain falling from my eyes.
::
Food is life. People who want to live need to eat. And there’s no reason whatsoever why we can’t come together as a community and feed them. I’m going to say that again:
People who want to live need to eat. And there’s no reason whatsoever why we can’t come together as a community and feed them.
So go, young people. Go. Out into the community and collect as many pounds of food as you can collect for the agencies in your community that feed the people.
Food is life.
Now go. Make miracles.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Thank You
I'm still speechless and can't say much more than thank you from the bottom of my heart for your overwhelming support in the primary election yesterday.
We received 757 votes, 78% of the votes cast in the Democratic primary.
You have no idea.
Congratulations to Mr. Cookson and his team for running a fine campaign.
On to November....
We received 757 votes, 78% of the votes cast in the Democratic primary.
You have no idea.
Congratulations to Mr. Cookson and his team for running a fine campaign.
On to November....
Friday, June 8, 2012
Vote Hickman
June 12th
As owner of Annabessacook Farm Organic Farm Stand and Bed & Breakfast, I believe small businesses and family farms are burdened with expensive regulations designed to help corporations drive them out of business. I've managed start-ups, directed human resources, operations, and marketing departments. I've been a sole proprietor and a partner. I know small businesses and small farms like the back of my hand. I will fight to change burdensome regulations so small businesses and farms can once again compete on an even playing field and create the jobs we need right here in Maine.
As an advocate for sustainability, I believe Maine should harness the power of the wind and the sun to produce renewable energy and end our addiction to fossil fuels. We'll protect Maine's enthralling beauty, attract more tourism, boost our economy, and create new jobs.
As an organic farmer, I believe locally grown food is national security. I'll work to reform the Maine food code and develop related food policy to make more healthy options available for ourselves and our children every school day. Access to wholesome food is a right for every citizen. We cannot allow a single one of us to go hungry for a single day. Maine has all the natural resources and the hard-working, independent-spirited people to grow, catch, trap, process and distribute enough food to feed our people and strengthen our local economy. Let's stop importing more food than any other state in the contiguous 48. Local food means local jobs.
As an artist and author, I'll leave you with my favorite quote from James Baldwin, my favorite writer and thinker who told us that the role of the artist is to tell us who we are. Given what we face as a state after the last legislative session, I believe it's timely. And necessary:
"One must say Yes to life and embrace it wherever it is found--and it is found in terrible places... For nothing is fixed, forever and forever, it is not fixed; the earth is always shifting, the light is always changing, the sea does not cease to grind down rock. Generations do not cease to be born, and we are responsible to them because we are the only witnesses they have. The sea rises, the light fails, lovers cling to each other, and children cling to us. The moment we cease to hold each other, the moment we break faith with one another, the sea engulfs us, and the light goes out."
If you believe Maine needs a man in the legislature with a strong voice and a vision for our future, then please go to the polls on Tuesday, June 12 and cast your vote for Craig Hickman.
Thank you. Take care of your blessings.
As owner of Annabessacook Farm Organic Farm Stand and Bed & Breakfast, I believe small businesses and family farms are burdened with expensive regulations designed to help corporations drive them out of business. I've managed start-ups, directed human resources, operations, and marketing departments. I've been a sole proprietor and a partner. I know small businesses and small farms like the back of my hand. I will fight to change burdensome regulations so small businesses and farms can once again compete on an even playing field and create the jobs we need right here in Maine.
As an advocate for sustainability, I believe Maine should harness the power of the wind and the sun to produce renewable energy and end our addiction to fossil fuels. We'll protect Maine's enthralling beauty, attract more tourism, boost our economy, and create new jobs.
As an organic farmer, I believe locally grown food is national security. I'll work to reform the Maine food code and develop related food policy to make more healthy options available for ourselves and our children every school day. Access to wholesome food is a right for every citizen. We cannot allow a single one of us to go hungry for a single day. Maine has all the natural resources and the hard-working, independent-spirited people to grow, catch, trap, process and distribute enough food to feed our people and strengthen our local economy. Let's stop importing more food than any other state in the contiguous 48. Local food means local jobs.
As an artist and author, I'll leave you with my favorite quote from James Baldwin, my favorite writer and thinker who told us that the role of the artist is to tell us who we are. Given what we face as a state after the last legislative session, I believe it's timely. And necessary:
"One must say Yes to life and embrace it wherever it is found--and it is found in terrible places... For nothing is fixed, forever and forever, it is not fixed; the earth is always shifting, the light is always changing, the sea does not cease to grind down rock. Generations do not cease to be born, and we are responsible to them because we are the only witnesses they have. The sea rises, the light fails, lovers cling to each other, and children cling to us. The moment we cease to hold each other, the moment we break faith with one another, the sea engulfs us, and the light goes out."
If you believe Maine needs a man in the legislature with a strong voice and a vision for our future, then please go to the polls on Tuesday, June 12 and cast your vote for Craig Hickman.
Thank you. Take care of your blessings.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Hickman in the Electoral College
Winthrop Democrat Elected Presidential Elector at State Convention
WINTHROP — Craig Hickman, vice chair of the Winthrop Democrats and two-time candidate for the Maine House of Representatives, was elected as one of Maine’s Democratic Presidential Electors at the party’s state convention this past weekend. The state delegation also elected Diane Denk of Kennebunk, Jill Duson of Portland, and Marianne Stevens of Kingfield to fill out the slate of the party’s four Electors.
“It’s taking me a long time to wrap my mind around it all,” said Hickman. “I’m humbled to have been chosen for this great, great honor. As a member of the Electoral College, my name—my father’s name—will be etched in history. Somewhere in heaven, my father is dancing a jig.”
Eight Winthrop delegates joined Hickman and about 1,500 delegates from around the state at the Augusta Civic Center to settle on a platform, choose delegates to the Democratic National Convention on Labor Day weekend in Charlotte, North Carolina, select Democratic electors to the Electoral College, and elect Maine representatives to the Democratic National Committee. Rita Moran, chair of the Kennebec County Democratic Committee, was elected to the national delegation, as was Hickman. Both were delegates to the national convention in 2008 as well.
This was the first time Hickman ran for Presidential Elector. “Four years ago, I witnessed Maine’s Electors cast their votes in a historic ceremony at the State House,” he said. “Jill Duson, the first black mayor of Portland, addressed the convention. I was so inspired I told myself I wanted a chance to do that someday. Now, I’m one step closer and I can hardly believe it.”
According to Article II, Section I of the United States Constitution, along with the 12th Amendment and Maine statutes pertaining to presidential elections, voters will elect Maine’s Presidential Electors in the November general election. Electors then convene on December 18th at 2:00 pm in the Maine House Chamber to cast their votes for President and Vice President of the United States. The ceremony is open to the public.
Friday, June 1, 2012
Red Bordeaux and Yellow Collard Flowers, May 29, 2012
by Christine Higgins, Readfield
The colors on the farm were extensive today, with the promise that bright intensity brings to the future.
Inside the smaller greenhouse, the Red Bordeaux spinach was beginning to bolt. It seemed like a short time ago that Craig was planting, and now the plants are making seeds for the future. Yellow blossoms on collard greens contrast with the warm red barn siding. Orange azaleas float their colors against the green –brown cattails. Soft green leeks and garlic are seen through the profusely blooming pink crab apple. Nature’s palette potential is everywhere.
Con Leche has delivered a new kid to the goat herd. Although the littlest, Kale spent her time frolicking at will; bouncing on the other goats with abandon and clambering onto her mother’s back. She clearly enjoyed the sound of her hooves on the tin roofing and jumped into the air, kicking her heels high. Some of the other kids are now chewing on the smaller carrot pieces I bring, while still nudging their mothers for milk.
Craig has only a few weeks to go before the primary campaign and is busy making signs at voters’ requests. He understands that personal endorsements mean voters are looking for what he has to offer as a representative and is working hard to honor those requests.
If elected, I feel that the stewardship he shows for the land will extend to his constituents. Planting more seeds for the future...
The colors on the farm were extensive today, with the promise that bright intensity brings to the future.
Inside the smaller greenhouse, the Red Bordeaux spinach was beginning to bolt. It seemed like a short time ago that Craig was planting, and now the plants are making seeds for the future. Yellow blossoms on collard greens contrast with the warm red barn siding. Orange azaleas float their colors against the green –brown cattails. Soft green leeks and garlic are seen through the profusely blooming pink crab apple. Nature’s palette potential is everywhere.
Con Leche has delivered a new kid to the goat herd. Although the littlest, Kale spent her time frolicking at will; bouncing on the other goats with abandon and clambering onto her mother’s back. She clearly enjoyed the sound of her hooves on the tin roofing and jumped into the air, kicking her heels high. Some of the other kids are now chewing on the smaller carrot pieces I bring, while still nudging their mothers for milk.
Craig has only a few weeks to go before the primary campaign and is busy making signs at voters’ requests. He understands that personal endorsements mean voters are looking for what he has to offer as a representative and is working hard to honor those requests.
If elected, I feel that the stewardship he shows for the land will extend to his constituents. Planting more seeds for the future...
Sunday, April 1, 2012
We Can Do Better
Craig Hickman Announces Another Bid for the State House
WINTHROP — Craig Hickman, organic farmer, small business owner, chef and author, is making another bid to serve the residents of Readfield and Winthrop in the Maine House of Representatives.
“I’m stepping up again because I want to take the work I’m doing in the community to the next level and serve the people in the Legislature,” said Hickman. “When I ran last time, I said I didn't want to sit on the sidelines but I know you don't have to run for the Legislature to do something for your community. However, in order to create lasting change in our communities, we need policy in Augusta that enhances the work we do on the ground.”
Inspired by his father, a Tuskegee Airman who worked first shift in the mailroom at Pabst Brewing Company for 30 years after the war, and his wise mother who held a string of part-time jobs to help put food on the table, he has spent most of his life serving his community and feeding people. He is President of the Rotary Club of the Winthrop Area and Secretary of the Winthrop Hot Meal Kitchen. He has also served on the boards of the Annabessacook Lake Improvement Association, Maranacook Local Foods Buying Club, Theater at Monmouth, and Washburn-Norlands Living History Center.
“We can do better. When 1 in 5 children go to bed hungry every night, we must do better. When the government thinks pink slime is food and pizza is a vegetable, we must do better. When our teachers don’t have the resources to provide a world-class education for our children, we must do better. When parents can't afford to send their kids to college and the ones who graduate are saddled with decades of debt, we must do better. When energy policy intensifies our addiction to fossil fuels while our winters continue to warm and farmer's struggle with drought, we must do better. When the tax code rewards giant corporations and the wealthiest among us at the expense of small farms, small businesses and Maine’s hardest-working families, we must do better. When our representatives tamper with voting laws instead of creating jobs and restoring a strong middle class, I know Maine can do better.”
Originally from Milwaukee, Wisconsin, Hickman was the first member of his family to graduate from college when he received an honors degree in government from Harvard University. He lives in Winthrop with MaineGeneral Health physical therapist Jop Blom. They own and operate Annabessacook Farm, a bed and breakfast and CSA farm that raises organic produce and hosts the Winthrop Community Gardens, a fresh food bank, and provides free hot meals once a week for people in need. His work feeding people earned him a Spirit of America Foundation Award from the town.
“To be sure, Representative Pat Flood will be a tough act to follow, but if the voters of Readfield and Winthrop give me the chance to try to fill his shoes, I promise I’ll do my best. If you believe we need a lawmaker in Augusta who listens, who stands up for what he believes, who thinks outside the box and offers creative solutions for our toughest challenges, a lawmaker who will work tirelessly for the people and never be for sale, then it’s time we step up again. I’d be humbled to represent you.”
Hickman can be reached at 377-FARM or craighickman@rocketmail.com.
::
WINTHROP — Craig Hickman, organic farmer, small business owner, chef and author, is making another bid to serve the residents of Readfield and Winthrop in the Maine House of Representatives.“I’m stepping up again because I want to take the work I’m doing in the community to the next level and serve the people in the Legislature,” said Hickman. “When I ran last time, I said I didn't want to sit on the sidelines but I know you don't have to run for the Legislature to do something for your community. However, in order to create lasting change in our communities, we need policy in Augusta that enhances the work we do on the ground.”
Inspired by his father, a Tuskegee Airman who worked first shift in the mailroom at Pabst Brewing Company for 30 years after the war, and his wise mother who held a string of part-time jobs to help put food on the table, he has spent most of his life serving his community and feeding people. He is President of the Rotary Club of the Winthrop Area and Secretary of the Winthrop Hot Meal Kitchen. He has also served on the boards of the Annabessacook Lake Improvement Association, Maranacook Local Foods Buying Club, Theater at Monmouth, and Washburn-Norlands Living History Center.
“We can do better. When 1 in 5 children go to bed hungry every night, we must do better. When the government thinks pink slime is food and pizza is a vegetable, we must do better. When our teachers don’t have the resources to provide a world-class education for our children, we must do better. When parents can't afford to send their kids to college and the ones who graduate are saddled with decades of debt, we must do better. When energy policy intensifies our addiction to fossil fuels while our winters continue to warm and farmer's struggle with drought, we must do better. When the tax code rewards giant corporations and the wealthiest among us at the expense of small farms, small businesses and Maine’s hardest-working families, we must do better. When our representatives tamper with voting laws instead of creating jobs and restoring a strong middle class, I know Maine can do better.”
Originally from Milwaukee, Wisconsin, Hickman was the first member of his family to graduate from college when he received an honors degree in government from Harvard University. He lives in Winthrop with MaineGeneral Health physical therapist Jop Blom. They own and operate Annabessacook Farm, a bed and breakfast and CSA farm that raises organic produce and hosts the Winthrop Community Gardens, a fresh food bank, and provides free hot meals once a week for people in need. His work feeding people earned him a Spirit of America Foundation Award from the town.
“To be sure, Representative Pat Flood will be a tough act to follow, but if the voters of Readfield and Winthrop give me the chance to try to fill his shoes, I promise I’ll do my best. If you believe we need a lawmaker in Augusta who listens, who stands up for what he believes, who thinks outside the box and offers creative solutions for our toughest challenges, a lawmaker who will work tirelessly for the people and never be for sale, then it’s time we step up again. I’d be humbled to represent you.”
Hickman can be reached at 377-FARM or craighickman@rocketmail.com.
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