I grew up in the Berkshires of Western Massachusetts. My mother and father split up when I was a baby, and I had a fairly unconventional childhood.

My mother, a bohemian poet, grew many wildflowers and herbs that surrounded our cozy, but rugged home. When we weren’t in school, my sister Melany and I would spend hours in the forest and meadows getting lost and then finding our way home by the light of fireflies or stars. The sounds of peepers and coyotes filled the silence of the night. We didn't have cable or internet, just a VCR where we watched The Sound of Music and Mary Poppins, over and over. My mother’s house was nestled in the forest at the end of a long driveway full of potholes that sprung yellow with goldenrod in the late summer. It was a log cabin built by hippies on acid in the 70’s, and it wasn’t insulated, so in the winter we heated it with wood to stay warm.

Our father, who we saw on weekends and vacations, didn’t live too far away. He’d rejected any conventionality, and chose a path of organic farming to make a living. My earliest memories of him are on the farm making boxes. We were consistently late to social gatherings, dance class, and even school because the farm was always the priority.

He also grew cannabis illegally. When the vegetable season was bad, cannabis gave him a way to pay the bills, and when the vegetable season was good, we had enough money to ski out West. Often, in the fall, I would open a closet at my dad’s house, and instead of shoes or jackets, I’d find cannabis branches hanging upside down to dry.

Some nights, from my bedroom, the smell of weed would fill the walls with a pungent, unusual aroma. I knew this was not happening at my friends’ houses and I often felt ashamed and yearned for normality. What I didn’t realize then was the deep relation between self and earth, soil and spirit that my parents' paths instilled in me. Farming taught me about the importance of the seasons – the times for rest, preparation, planting, caring, sharing. The ebb and flow of life, tension and release.

While I had a deep respect and care for the earth, I didn’t want a career in farming. I explored other interests in my teenagehood, always drawn to creation and movement. In college, I moved to New York to study acting. I was working full time to support myself, but I began growing weary of the city. I was no longer excited or inspired by my studies or a future in New York, so I reached out to my sister Melany who was living in Humboldt County, California, the heart of the cannabis industry. She’d moved there after college to make some cash before heading to LA, but her plans changed when she fell in love with the industry. Soon Melany was managing a grow and a whole crew.

Because she lived off-grid, it was hard to reach her. And when I finally did, she said in a matter-of-fact tone: “move out here, you will make money and learn a lot.” Shortly after, I dropped out of college, packed up my Jetta, and headed west.

Humboldt runs on a cash economy. Every banker, insurance agent, car salesman, and law enforcement official is connected to the weed industry. Because of how normalized the growing and consumption of marijuana is in this part of the country, I began to bridge the gap between cannabis and agriculture. Just like food, the way the plant is cultivated matters, not just for human health but for planetary health.

Within a broken system where this plant has been historically weaponized and ostracized, I saw an opportunity for healing. The way to restore justice begins where life does, in the soil.

Melany and I were living off-grid among wild horses and boars, with little to no wifi or cell service. After preparing dinner in our outdoor kitchen each night, Melany and I would sit under the half finished geodesic dome and imagine our future farm and brand. The word treaty echoed in our ears. Phonetically it made sense, “tree” and “tea.” Tree references the Tree of Life, with a deep root system that can sequester up to 22 tons of CO2 per hectare, and bowing to the versatility of cannabis, a plant that provides food, fuel, medicine and shelter. Tea references the ritual and culture of tea time, and the ceremonial aspects of cannabis that date back to 2800 BC. With so many broken treaties, we felt it was our duty to bring a brand to life that exemplifies what a treaty is: finding peace between nature and humanity.

It was October of 2017, and our brother Ben called us from the farm he managed in Hudson, NY. The farm had been granted a permit from NY’s Pilot Program to grow hemp. They were just finishing their 10 acre harvest of hemp, the first hemp harvest in NY since 1937. He was excited, but had no idea what they were going to do with the product and asked if we wanted to come back east and help figure it out. Tensions were high in California that season given the legalization of recreational cannabis and Melany and I felt the friction as newcomers in an old industry. It seemed like a good time to exit and return to our roots, so we packed up and headed back east.

We returned in November. First, we established Hudson Hemp and then began building our product line: Treaty. Hudson Hemp, based on an organic-regenerative grain farm, started growing hemp for its carbon sequestration and soil remediation benefits. It was the perfect crop to incorporate into the farm's rotation, and (through the work of Hudson Carbon the on-site research lab) study the way hemp can change the soil. What we discovered is that regenerative farming could create the next industrial revolution that supports healthy life on earth for all.

The farm was the foundation for our brand Treaty. Our office sat on thousands of acres of land – a Catskills backdrop, rolling pastures, and woods that met a clean river. We were learning all about our hero crop, hemp, and the medicinal properties of CBD. We learned about our endocannabinoid system and the way CBD interacts with it, and there was research suggesting a myriad of benefits from anxiety to pain.

We were excited by the potential of this miracle plant, and wanted to tap into the research and our landscape. We needed to take our idea to the next stage so we enlisted a product developer with a vast knowledge and vocabulary in the molecular makeup of plants. We launched Treaty in 2019 with four tinctures: Balance, Focus, Calm and Recover. Each formula corresponds with a different landscape and the botanicals that grow in those areas that have differing effects on the body. After our launch, we received many positive testimonials and press that gave us hope for the future of our planet and business.

The CBD industry crashed shortly after our launch and we found ourselves sitting on a massive amount of product with no outlet to sell. We knew the summer of 2021 would be our last season growing hemp. New York had legalized recreational cannabis and we were hopeful by summer 2022 we would have a license. Last May, we received one of the 100 provisional licenses to grow cannabis outdoors on our farm. Now in the midst of a successful cannabis harvest, we see our years of work paying off and are excited for the future of our farm. While Hudson Hemp and Treaty are pivoting into the adult use cannabis market, our values will not falter. We are, at the forefront, advocates for the earth and caretakers of the people.

Building these companies with my siblings has been challenging in moments, but ultimately the most rewarding experience of my life. Hudson Hemp and Treaty were created from a place of love. The love I have for my family has shown me how to love the earth. Reciprocity with earth begins with how we treat each other. Nothing exists in isolation.

Our father paved the way long before I knew where I belonged in the world. He showed us to leave a place better than we find it, farming is an expression of that. He said something in an interview a few years back that stuck with me, “The fact we all worked in the same field speaks volumes to how close we are as a family. I am so happy they get it and want to do this type of work.” So together we will persevere and find a way to co-exist in an ever changing world. If I know one thing, it is this: through brokenness we can heal.

Find @hudsonhemp + @ourtreaty in Hudson, New York. www.shophudsonhemp.com

By Freya Dobson

Images courtesy of Freya Dobson/Hudson Hemp

Volume 9