The University Farm: History & Struggles

Belgravia Road to 51st Avenue & 115th Street to 122nd Street

Established: 1930

A BRIEF HISTORY:

University of Alberta president and co-founder Henry Marshall Tory was nothing if not a visionary. While he understood the traditional academic role his school would come to play in Albertan society, he also recognized its potential to improve the lives of those outside its educational boundaries. One area in particular caught his eye; farming. Convinced that farmers “must use modern methods and equipment if he is to get the most from his farm and get it efficiently,” Tory organized a Department of Agriculture in 1915. A.G. McCalla, 1929 graduate and future Dean of Agriculture reminisced:

“The Faculty… was organized because it became apparent that, with [modern] changes, agriculture needed trained men. This was true in direct relation to farming and to every phase of business related to the production, handling and processing of agricultural products. If science was to be applied to agriculture then those concerned with its application must understand both science and agriculture. Only a Faculty of Agriculture could give the basic training in science and an understanding of the relationship of the sciences of botany, chemistry, bacteriology, etc., to agricultural problems.”

As such, Tory poised Agriculture not just as an academic program, but a practical one. Studies emphasized in-class instruction and field work equally. For instance, students could learn the theoretical background of soil sciences and the applied act of tilling in the same semester. Other branches of studies included animal husbandry and butchery. In the latter category, one could be expected to study meat-cutting and curing, and learn “how to distinguish between round stakes and a rib roast, and how to tactfully persuade the beautiful bovine to part with the same.”

Experimental work and the Department’s connections to extra-scholarly organizations, such as the Provincial Department of Agriculture and farming co-operatives, furthered the program’s reputation. Tory — always “at pains to point Agriculture out to the government [as the] big growth area for the faculty after the war” — provided one such example in a letter to the Minister of Education:

“Every department [in Agriculture] is a research department. In the Field Husbandry Department, for example, last summer, over one hundred definite experiments were carried out on forage crops, grain crops, etc., almost every one of which was in response to a definite inquiry from farmers in the country who are meeting practical difficulties.”

Student numbers swelled and the Department took on thirteen new faculty members between 1920 and 1922 — Medical was the only other department seeing comparable growth; in the same period they hired fourteen professors. Local and international attention followed. In one instance, a delegation of British headmasters visited — they “were obviously impressed with the splendid arrangements,” an enthusiastic Edmonton Journal reported — and the Dominion Government’s Department of Agriculture soon became the largest single employer of the faculty’s graduates.

Cross-University growth spelt problems for Agriculture, however. Choked by new Red Cross facilities, the University Hospital and sanitation concerns therein, an under-construction Normal School, and infill housing in Garneau, the Department planned for its future. The Province did likewise, and in 1930 pledged money towards their relocation. Administration settled on a site two-and-a-half kilometres to the southwest, on land already owned by the University. Their holdings, initially purchased in 1920, was expanded another two-hundred-forty acres — with considerable difficulty; the City held title to the area — to create a three-hundred-seventy-nine acre farm on Edmonton’s urban edge. The Department, buildings and all, moved to their new home in time for the 1930-31 academic year.

When students made the long trek for the first time they were met with what The Gateway termed “as fine and complete a unit as any organization in Canada processes.” Among the buildings was a hog barn, horse barn, and combined sheep and dairy barn — all transplanted from the old campus location — along with a grain elevator able to hold 75,000 bushels, an all-new dairy barn, nine staff cottages, livestock pavilion, and implements shed.

THE POLITICS OF PRESERVATION:

Of the original buildings, only the 1920 Horse Barn and 1930 Livestock Pavilion still stand. Until recently another, the 1930 Dairy Barn, joined them. The University unceremoniously destroyed it in late-July 2022. Ironically, of these aged survivors, it was the one in best condition — volunteers, running a museum dedicated to farming history, kept it in good nick.

So why had campus administration singled it out for demolition? Changing technologies, practices, and the construction of more modern facilities are part of it for sure. The Dairy Barn is something of an anachronism nowadays. Yet, as reasonable as that justification may seem, it doesn't fully answer the question.

University President Bill Flanagan attempts to give us more of an explanation. In an open letter he wrote that the University is “committed to building and maintaining spaces and facilities which meet high sustainability standards... Sustainable, well-used, high-quality space that supports our core teaching and research mission is the goal.” Buildings like the Dairy Barn are “liabilities” to that objective, he contends, and environmental stewardship and administration’s “leadership in green projects” underlines their decision.

I don’t buy it.

One can’t “sustainably” dispose of a building — it’s an oxymoron. The construction, maintenance, and demolition industries alone account for thirty percent of Canada’s landfill waste. What’s more is that any structure built to replace these facilities is at an environmental and efficiency disadvantage. As the National Trust for Historic Preservation writes, “It can take between 10 to 80 years for a new energy efficient building to overcome… the climate change impacts created by its construction.”

All this is without acknowledging the concept of “embodied carbon.” The Carbon Leadership Forum explains that embodied carbon “refers to the greenhouse gas emissions arising from the manufacturing, transportation, installation, maintenance, and disposal of building materials. Embodied carbon is a significant percentage of global emissions and requires urgent action to address it.” Heritage Canada and other preservation entities live by the mantra “the greenest building is one that already exists” for this very reason.

If the University were being honest, they would point to politics; sweeping budget cuts imposed by the United Conservative regime are to blame, no doubt. One can draw a straight line between their four year rule and the University’s sudden rush to demolish anything and everything deemed inefficient. In that sense I can begrudgingly understand, and even empathize with, the decisions the University is now forced to make. That doesn’t excuse their approach to these trying situations, however. While heritage advocates, alumni, and developers alike provide a bountiful list of alternatives, administration carries on intent on satiating a lust for destruction.

So what’s one to do? Well, the U.C.P. purport to be the party of business and fiscal responsibility (even if recent events suggest otherwise), so an economic appeal should suffice. While an upfront cost, the restoration of buildings has, time-and-time again, proven to be a worthwhile endeavour which makes monetary sense. As the National Trust writes:

“Historic rehabilitation has a thirty-two year track record of creating 2 million jobs and generating $90 billion in private investment. Studies show… rehabilitation creates 50% more jobs than new construction.”

Rutgers University agrees, concluding that “in many parts of the [United States] a $1 million investment in historic rehabilitation yields markedly better effects on employment, income, GSP, and state and local taxes than an equal investment in new construction or many other economic activities (e.g., manufacturing or services).”

Yet, here the Province and University squabble, creating their flimsy justifications all-the-while. A party propped-up by the rural vote is responsible for the destruction of an invaluable piece of Alberta’s farming heritage — they will claim they are saving Joe Albertan an extra dollar on their next tax return. Meanwhile, a university once lauded for its commitment to environmental stewardship is responsible for sending more waste to the landfill — they will claim they are doing anything but.

Both lie. A better alternative was always possible for the University’s embattled buildings, be it Soaring House, the Ring Houses, East Campus Residences, or Dairy Barn, if ideology could be cast aside and common sense upheld. Instead these duelling powers have condemned future generations to a weaker cultural tapestry than the one they both inherited.

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