Maine shifts focus to mental health as PFAS crisis deepens
Adam Nordell visits the family farm in Unity in 2023 that he used to operate with his partner. After it tested for staggeringly high levels of PFAS, he had to shut it down. He sold the farm to the state and now he is an environmental activist. (Staff photo by Derek Davis/Staff Photographer)
Maine is launching a mental health network to help local farmers survive the emotional trauma of forever chemical contamination, which threatens the long-term financial and physical health of rural families as well as poisons their soil and water.
Maine taken a leadership role in the national PFAS farm crisis, conducting a statewide review to find farms tainted by sludge-derived fertilizer and banning its use going forward. Now, it is shifting its focus from protecting the land to protecting the people who work it.
Maine will use an experimental networked approach to the campaign, providing special training to operators at the state’s 988 and 211 crisis lines to handle the unique stress of a farmer trying to cope with the wide range of risks associated with forever chemical contamination.
It is also launching a peer-to-peer mentoring system where farmers who have already navigated their own forever chemical crisis are trained to support those just who are just now receiving or acting upon the bad news.
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Members of this high-stress profession already struggle with suicide rates 3.5 times higher than the general public, according to Beth Valentine, the director of the state’s PFAS Fund Advisory Committee, who spoke at a Wednesday meeting of the committee.
“On top of that, knowledge of PFAS exposure and concerns about health effects, financial instability and an uncertain future can amplify existing feelings of stress and anxiety.”
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In 2023, when forever chemical contamination forced him to sell off his herd of organic dairy cows, Fairfield farmer Egide Dostie II talked about the emotional impact on him and his multi-generation farming family. He said he felt empty, frustrated and betrayed.
“Our family has worked a couple lifetimes to build up the farm, to build a way of life that could be passed to the kids,” he told a reporter at the time. “We were doing good, too, until the contamination got us. I thought we’d beat it, but it got us good.”
According to a study published in February that was led by MaineHealth Institute for Research, getting news of high PFAS levels led to a 130% increase in worry about health risks compared to neighbors with cleaner water. General anxiety levels also jumped by 60%.
The networked model stands in contrast to the state’s more traditional policy wins, like passage of a bill that creates a concrete financial safety net for those impacted by tainted sludge that will require private insurance companies to start cover the cost of PFAS blood testing.
Fred Stone pets Marybell, a two-month-old swiss limousin calf at his Arundel dairy farm in 2023. Stone’s farm was the first in Maine to shut down due to PFAS contamination in 2017. (Staff photo by Gregory Rec/Staff Photographer)
While the insurance mandate provides a clear-cut rule for physical health, officials say the more flexible mental health network is a better approach because it makes use of existing community resources rather than building costly new stand-alone agency.
Maine’s urgency stems from the discovery of PFAS, or per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances, in the agricultural fields, water, crops and livestock of at least 90 farms where the state permitted the use of treated sewage sludge as fertilizer dating back to the 1970s.
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These manmade “forever chemicals” were used for decades in non-stick cookware, waterproof clothing, food packaging and makeup because they don’t break down easily and resist grease or heat. Exposure is linked to kidney cancer, weakened immune systems and lower birth weights.
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The study published in the International Journal of Hygiene and Environmental Health found central Maine families that learned their water was contaminated reported high levels of worry, fear and social stigma. Those who had never dealt with mental health issues were hit hardest.
For many, the trauma comes from the uncertainty of being able to keep a family business afloat.
Two years since it unveiled its spending plan, the committee has spent or has plans to spend an estimated $44 million of the original $60 million fund, according to Valentine. The pace of the committee’s spending is slower than originally projected.
It often takes four or five years from the first discovery of chemicals for a farmer to fully realize the damage, overcome the fear of being labeled a PFAS farm and apply for income replacement or major infrastructure grants.
Many farmers are currently trying to stay in business by restructuring their business plans, but as some realize it is undoable, Maine is likely to see a wave of more costly requests for financial help or farm buybacks, according to Amanda Beal, the state agriculture commissioner.
So far, the state has distributed $2.6 million in direct assistance to farmers for things like income replacement and business rebranding, Valentine said. Another $784,000 was used to acquire and manage two contaminated properties in Palermo and Unity.
Research grant funding totals $6 million, covering everything from portable PFAS field testing to a study to determine whether maple sugaring is a safe reuse of contaminated land. The rest is going to blood testing programs and specialists who help families find technical and emotional support.
As the committee prepares for a possible second wave of buyback requests, policymakers such as Valentine and Beal hope the state will have a farmer-designed mental health program in place to help the latest forever chemical victims overcome the emotional trauma.
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Tagged: agriculture, environment, farming, forever chemicals, PFAS
Penny is excited to be the Portland Press Herald’s first climate reporter. Since joining the paper in 2016, she has written about Maine’s lobster and cannabis industries, covered state politics and. More by Penelope Overton
