Neighbors, Not Adversaries: A Call for Collaboration

Part 11 of 14 in the "Rooted in Heritage, Growing for Tomorrow" Series

I've been thinking about fences lately.

On a farm, fences serve a simple purpose: they define boundaries. They keep sheep where sheep belong and separate pastures for rotational grazing. They're practical tools, nothing more.

But fences can also become symbols. Lines that divide. Barriers that separate "us" from "them."

As we approach our March 28th hearing, I've been asking myself: what kind of fence are we building between Black Hammock Farm and Seminole County?

I don't want it to be that kind of fence.

The Story We Could Tell

There's a version of this story where I'm the embattled farmer fighting an unreasonable bureaucracy, where county officials are villains blocking the little guy. Where every interaction is a battle and every decision is an injustice.

That story might generate sympathy. It might even generate outrage. But it wouldn't be true—and it wouldn't help anyone.

Here's what's actually true:

Seminole County has real responsibilities. Budgets to balance. Services to fund. A tax base to maintain as costs rise and demands increase. The people making these decisions aren't cartoon villains—they're public servants trying to do challenging jobs.

And here's what's also true:

Black Hammock Farm is a legitimate agricultural operation that meets the legal criteria for classification as an agricultural operation. An independent Magistrate confirmed this after reviewing our evidence. We're not asking for favors—we're asking for the law to be applied as written.

Both things can be true at once. And if both are true, then we're not adversaries. We're neighbors with a disagreement—one that can be resolved through conversation rather than combat.

The Inconsistency That Invites Dialogue

I want to revisit something I mentioned in an earlier post, because it's the key to moving forward.

Seminole County zoned our property A-5: Agricultural.

That designation wasn't an accident. The county's own planning process determined that this land is appropriate for agricultural use. The zoning code that applies to our property explicitly permits farming, livestock, and other agricultural activities.

In June 2020, Seminole County issued Development Order 20-27000025 for our property. That order was for Paramount Fencing—my agricultural fencing and infrastructure business that serves farms across the region. But here's what matters: as a condition of that approval, the county required that we maintain the "rural or agricultural characteristics" consistent with the area.

Think about what that means. The county reviewed our property and recognized its agricultural character as worth preserving. They didn't just permit agricultural activity—they required it as a condition of the development order. They recognized that this land was being used for agriculture and mandated that it remain so.

And yet the Property Appraiser's office, evaluating the same property, concluded that our agricultural operations don't qualify for agricultural classification.

The county recognized our agricultural character in one context—and denied it in another.

I'm not saying anyone acted in bad faith. I'm saying the two positions don't align—and that misalignment deserves a conversation.

How can the county require us to maintain agricultural characteristics while simultaneously denying that those characteristics exist?

I genuinely don't understand. And I'd welcome the opportunity to sit down with anyone who can explain it.

What Collaboration Could Look Like

Instead of fighting about what went wrong, I'd rather talk about what could go right.

Black Hammock Farm offers capabilities that could benefit Seminole County. The county has needs that our capabilities could address. What if we stopped arguing about classification and started exploring partnership?

Vegetation management for public lands. The county maintains thousands of acres of conservation land, retention ponds, parks, and right-of-ways. Much of this requires ongoing vegetation control—currently handled by mowing crews, herbicide applicators, and mechanical clearing.

We've discussed this in earlier posts: targeted grazing offers an alternative. Sheep that clear vegetation without chemicals, without heavy machinery, without fossil fuels. A method that's gaining traction in municipalities across the country.

What if Seminole County piloted a targeted grazing program on a retention pond or park edge? Black Hammock Farm has the animals, the portable fencing systems, and the expertise. We could start small—a few acres, carefully monitored—and see what works.

Invasive species control in wetlands. Seminole County protects over 8,500 acres of wetlands around Lake Jesup. These areas face constant pressure from invasive plants that conventional management struggles to control.

Research supports strategic grazing as an effective tool for managing invasive species. We have Katahdin sheep suited explicitly to Florida conditions. We have experience with transitional zone grazing on our own property.

A partnership between the county's Natural Lands Program and local agricultural operations could pioneer approaches that other Florida counties would want to replicate. Seminole County could be a leader rather than a follower.

Agricultural education and community connection. Families across Seminole County have lost connection to where their food comes from. Our Backyard Chicken Program, farm visits, and community engagement help bridge that gap.

What if the county promoted local farms as educational resources? What if school field trips included working agricultural operations? What if "buy local" wasn't just a slogan but a supported initiative?

None of this requires anyone to admit they were wrong. It just requires a willingness to look forward instead of backward.

What We Bring to the Table

I want to be clear about what Black Hammock Farm offers—not as a negotiating position, but as an honest inventory of capabilities.

Established infrastructure. We've already built the fencing systems, the livestock-handling facilities, and the operational protocols. We're not asking anyone to fund our startup. The capacity exists.

Specialized expertise.Katahdin sheep in Florida conditions. Conservation grazing in transitional wetlands. Heritage poultry breeding. We've developed knowledge that has value beyond our own property.

Community relationships. Through Rent-A-Herd, the Backyard Chicken Program, farm visits, and this blog series, we've built connections across Seminole County. People know us. They trust us. That social capital has value for any partnership.

Commitment to documentation. We track everything: breeding records, body condition scores, and grazing outcomes. If the county partnered with us on a pilot program, we'd provide the data needed to evaluate results.

Aligned incentives. We want our farm to succeed. The county wants well-managed land and cost-effective services. These goals don't conflict—they reinforce each other.

What We're Asking For

Let me be direct about what we need from this relationship.

Fair application of existing law. Florida Statute 193.461 establishes criteria for agricultural classification. We meet those criteria. An independent Magistrate confirmed it. We're asking the Value Adjustment Board to apply the law as written and uphold the Magistrate's recommendation.

Consistency between county departments. If the Planning and Zoning department recognizes us as agricultural, the Property Appraiser's classification should align with that. We're not asking for special treatment—we're asking for coherence.

Openness to conversation. We've spent over $10,000 on legal fees because that's what the formal process required. But I'd much rather have spent that money on fencing—and spent the time in dialogue rather than in hearings.

If anyone from the county wants to visit the farm, walk the pastures, and understand what we actually do, the invitation stands. So that you know, no lawyers are required. Just neighbors talking.

The Future I Want to See

Close your eyes for a moment and imagine a different Seminole County.

A county where small farms are recognized as community assets, not obstacles to tax revenue. Where agricultural classification is straightforward for operations that meet the legal criteria, without requiring $10,000 legal battles.

A county where local government actively partners with farms for services like vegetation management and invasive species control. Where the expertise of agricultural producers is valued and utilized.

A county where the Black Hammock region's farming heritage isn't just history in a museum, but a living tradition continued by working operations.

A county where the answer to "Can small farms survive here?" is an enthusiastic yes.

That's the Seminole County I want to help build. I don't think I'm alone.

We're Still Here

Whatever happens on March 28th, Black Hammock Farm will still be here.

If the Value Adjustment Board upholds the Magistrate's recommendation, we'll continue building what we've started. More lambs. More families are visiting. More conservation grazing research. More community connection.

If they don't... We'll figure out the next steps. The legal process has additional stages. The farm has survived challenges before. Marines don't quit at the first setback.

But I'd rather not fight. I'd rather build.

Every hour I spend on legal briefs is an hour I'm not spending with the sheep. Every dollar spent on attorneys is a dollar that doesn't go toward expanding our conservation grazing capacity. Every ounce of energy directed at conflict is energy diverted from creation.

I got into farming because I was done destroying. I wanted to build something. I tried to heal something. I wanted to create rather than tear down.

That's still what I want.

County officials, if you're reading this: I meant what I said. The door is open. Please take a look at what we're doing. I think we should find common ground.

We're neighbors. We should be able to work this out.

Next week in Part 12: "The Research Speaks: Science Behind Sustainable Grazing"—we'll dive deeper into the peer-reviewed research supporting targeted grazing for conservation, and explore what the science says about livestock as land management partners.

From the Pasture: Spring is making itself known. The pastures are responding to recent rains, and our rotational grazing schedule is keeping pace with growth. The lambs are developing well and are starting to sample grass alongside their mothers. Life on the farm continues, regardless of what happens in hearing rooms.

An Open Invitation: If you're a Seminole County official—elected, appointed, or employed—you're welcome at Black Hammock Farm anytime—no agenda required. Just see what small-scale agriculture looks like in practice. Contact us throughblackhammockfarm. To arrange a visit.

A Question for Readers: What would productive collaboration between local farms and county government look like to you? What services could farms provide? What support could counties offer? Could you share your ideas in the comments?

#RootedInHeritage #BlackHammockFarm #CollaborationOverConflict #SeminoleCounty #FarmingFuture