Mitchell’s Lot
For the past several years I have photographed goat ranchers, conservative Christians (my family) from far west Texas and the Muslims who purchase their goats for the halal (meat prepared in accordance with Islamic law) meat economy in New Jersey and New York. This project is a personal narrative journey- aspects of which connect with larger issues in our society. I call my project Mitchell’s Lot. My maternal great-grandfather, surname Mitchell, came from Scotland to work the land my parents now live on in Terrell County, Texas.
For this project, I have followed the flow of animals from the desert to the city. Specifically I have photographed the people and animals that populate the canyonlands of the Trans-Pecos region where I was raised. I have interviewed, photographed, and ridden with the truckers who transport the animals live weight to the east coast. I have photographed the goats as they were processed in the USDA slaughterhouse in Paterson, New Jersey, and I have gone on delivery to the small halal markets in the boroughs surrounding New York City.
Growing up on the ranch, I did not know exactly where the animals went when the last gate closed and the trailer full of goats or sheep drove away. We would all head back to the house for lunch. That was the end of a years worth of work. Today, meat goats are the most productive and lucrative animals my parents can raise. This has been helped greatly with the rise of the halal meat market and a Muslim goat buyer. Saffet Kucukkarca, originally from Turkey and of Karaçay descent, moved his family to the center of Texas to buy goats directly from producers and from sales to ensure a steady stream of the correct kind of animals to his family’s halal processing plant back in New Jersey. He usually buys all the goats my father designates annually for the meat economy.
This photographic essay began with a story: One day my father told me about his new trade partner, a Muslim man, named Saffet Kucukkarca. He told me how Saffet joined my father and mother for lunch. This is common as ranches in this part of Texas are far from towns and it is courtesy to invite your guests to stay for lunch. When the time came for the lunch prayer my father reached out for Saffet’s hand. Saffet asked him what they were going to do and my father told him “to pray”. Saffet asked who are we going to pray to - Your God or my God? And my father replied, “To The God.” And they held hands and prayed.
This lyric essay has been a rewarding personal experience and over the years it has evolved into a story about how we feed each other on many different levels.