This post expresses the views and opinions of the author(s) and not necessarily that of Westwood Minute management or staff.
Westwood is facing a false choice.
We are being asked to believe that we must either protect conserved land or allow our town’s last working farm to survive. That framing is not only inaccurate—it undermines the very principles conservation is meant to uphold.
I support the mission of the Westwood Land Trust.
I also support the future of the Bean Family Farm.
These positions are not in conflict.
The land at issue is not untouched wilderness. It is a historic meadow shaped by generations of agricultural use—haying, grazing, and farming that created the open landscape we value today.
Agriculture is not a new intrusion here. It is the origin story.
Well-managed farming has long been recognized as a conservation tool because it keeps land open and undeveloped, maintains soil health, prevents invasive species, supports pollinators, and preserves historic landscapes. A working farm is not the opposite of conservation; it is one of its oldest expressions.
The Conservation Restriction governing this land explicitly allows agricultural use, subject to approval. That provision was not accidental. It reflects an understanding that conservation does not require land to be frozen in time, but stewarded responsibly.
The Land Trust has said it cannot allow any use that “impairs the purpose of the Conservation Restriction.” That principle is sound. The disagreement lies in how impairment is defined.
Interpreting any meaningful agricultural use as impairment elevates one philosophy of conservation—passive preservation—above others that are widely accepted, legally recognized, and historically grounded. Stewardship is not about eliminating human use. It is about managing land for long-term public benefit.
What Chris Bean is proposing is not industrial agriculture. It is small-scale, diversified, soil-based farming. This is the very kind that conservation professionals across Massachusetts increasingly recognize as compatible with protected land.
Modern regenerative farming practices can improve soil structure and carbon sequestration, support pollinators through crop diversity, control invasive species through active management, and preserve open meadow more reliably than passive maintenance alone.
Crucially, these practices are reversible. If farming ever ceased, the land could be restored. If the farm itself disappears, however, a 14-generation legacy and an irreplaceable community asset will not return.
This is not a choice between conservation and farming. It is a question of whether we recognize that active stewardship can sometimes protect land more effectively than leaving it unmanaged.
The Bean Family Farm provides Westwood with local food production, educational opportunities for children and families, and a living connection to the town’s agricultural history. It offers a sense of place that no passive open space alone can replicate.
This is Westwood’s last working farm. Losing it would mean losing more than crops. It would mean losing identity, continuity, and lived stewardship. Land that serves people meaningfully is land people are committed to protecting.
The Land Trust argues that farming would impair the purpose of the Conservation Restriction by altering the meadow’s ecology.
But conservation law does not require land to remain untouched. It requires that protected values not be materially undermined. A carefully governed agricultural use, with defined acreage, buffer zones, monitoring, and restoration requirements does not impair conservation. It fulfills it.
To reject this outright is not neutrality. It is a choice to favor abandonment over stewardship, rigidity over resilience, and theory over lived practice.
This does not need to be a zero-sum outcome.
Westwood can protect the land, honor the Conservation Restriction, support ecological health, and allow its last working farm to survive.
That balance is not a compromise of conservation. It is its evolution.
If conservation cannot coexist with the people and practices that shaped the land in the first place, then we are not preserving living landscapes; we are managing decline.
Westwood can do better. And I believe we should.
— Kelly Fredrickson