Chapter Text
Life throughout the Commonwealth, as with every other stage in human history, is a wide and varied tapestry, colored with vigor and a striving spirit, and fraught with its own set of challenges. Moreso than any other period, in fact, is the constant spectre of a violent and untimely demise. Every aspect of life is viewed through the lens of survival, and the dangers presented are manifold. Radiation, heavily mutated creatures of all shapes and sizes, and of course, other denizens of the Commonwealth, ensure that life in this otherwise well-off area remains a constant struggle.
However, the majority of Commonwealth citizens continue to adapt to their surroundings, and despite all odds, even thrive through these hardships, carrying on the proud legacy of humanity in unlikely times. Life goes on it its many forms through these residents, each one writing their own story of love, struggles, grief and adventure to add to the overarching saga of the area. Normalcy for the peoples of the Commonwealth even manages to prevail in the face of the steadily increasing shadow of their favorite boogeyman, the Institute. As talk of this secretive organisation rises out of once hushed whispers and proof of their existence continues to surface in the form of synths and an ongoing spree of mysterious disappearances - presumed by many to be kidnappings - life goes on in its usual pace in the settlements across the Commonwealth, altered only by increased security and a healthy dose of suspicion and paranoia.
Very little seems to rattle the average Commonwealth dweller, who is usually divided into one of the six major roles - that is, farmer, citizen, scavenger, trader, mercenary, and raider. Each lifestyle has a varying degree of risk, gain, and stability. Mobility through these different lifestyles is particularly fluid. Citizens leave their established settlements to become farmers, farmers morph into traders, and disgruntled or bitter scavengers and mercenaries turn to raiding. Without the usual structures of a heavily close-knit society, the possibilities often transform into a fascinating tangle, like a river that can change direction at any moment. For the present moment, we will be investigating each of the aforementioned six roles, looking into the different challenges and rewards presented by each lifestyle, and studying what these people's’ daily lives consist of.
We will begin our investigation with the farming community. With a more bountiful landscape than many other areas in this day and age, the Commonwealth enjoys relatively plentiful harvests, and hosts a community of predominantly farm-based settlements. We estimate that approximately 60% of the people living in the Commonwealth actively contribute to the continuation of one farm or another in some way. Of that, perhaps 30% are actually dedicated farmers themselves. Because these numbers are constantly fluctuating, it can be difficult to get a more exact reading. What is evident, however, is that farmers are the undisputed lifeblood of the region.
Despite the inherent challenges of the nuclear wasteland that the Commonwealth still inevitably resembles, the profession of farming had changed very little since its inception. Still ruled by the changing weather and the fertility of the soil, farmers manage to adapt and eke out a modest living in some of the region’s harshest landscapes. Since the Great War of 2077, the seasons of the Commonwealth have shifted somewhat from their original characters. A persistent chill has settled over over the region since that infamous conflict, tempering all four seasons. Winter takes up a staggering five straight months, overloading the Commonwealth area with constant snow, ice, and spectacular blizzards that sometimes combine with the frequent radstorms that plague the region year-round. Spring provides little true relief from the cold, despite maintaining temperatures reasonable above freezing. Farmers must work their fields in this cold, harassed by constant rain. As the season progresses, this tapers off, leading into the short summers. A brief period of heat prevails for almost two months, before being overtaken by an increasingly chilly autumn. The constant weather systems and assault by the seasons can make planting nurturing and harvesting a crop successfully rather difficult.
With the constant toil of a farmer’s life, periods of respite are hard to come by, and highly celebrated when they do. Several celebratory customs have risen around the typical farming schedule. Most notable is the Harvest Fire, a growing tradition in which the entire farm or settlement joins together around a fire to share a community dinner. This takes place just after the winter preparations, and celebrates a successful harvest. It is believed that this custom helps join communities together before the long winters, promoting unity and stability. Even in settlements that aren’t particularly close, it is widely considered bad luck to skip this celebration.
In larger communities, another significant event is a celebration thrown after the first fruits of spring are gathered. It goes by several names, and in many settlements, it is presented through the guise of a dance. Interestingly, it is one of the more subtle and yet important ways that the arts have continued to survive and thrive in the present society. While traditional paintings and literature hold little value to most residents of the Commonwealth, dance forms and practices have continued to be steadfastly preserved and passed down through the years.
The Spring Harvest, as we shall call it,is marked by a shared joy and relief at not only surviving the winter, but succeeding with the first crop of the new season. The preserves and grains that carry settlers through the winter snows are ditched in favor of fresh fruits and vegetables, often very simply prepared. While the dance is a large feature in the more populous settlements, it tends to take a background role in one or two family farms. However, the spirit of the celebration remains the same, with settlers young and old coming together to enjoy the prospect of a fresh start.
Looking at the farming family gives us a basis for what the typical Commonwealth family grouping looks like. Units usually consist of a mother and father, one to two children, and at least one set of grandparents - although in many cases, a grandparent doesn’t live long enough to cohabitate with their grandchildren. Also, the number of parents can vary almost as often. Single parents are hardly a rarity in the Commonwealth. But overall, the popularity of the pre-war “nuclear family” (a term widely misunderstood by residents of the Commonwealth has persisted, remaining the norm for the last 200 plus years.
On the farm, labor is a necessary fact of survival. This ensures that children are included in day-to-day activities from a young age. It is vital that they understand the tasks necessary to keep a farm running smoothly early on, as they are often expected to take over for their parents someday. The parents fulfill a teaching and guiding role while making sure the farm continues to function and prosper. They often initiate in trade of some kind with passing caravans, selling produce, dairy products when possible, and usually trading homemade dry goods as well, such as woven or hide blankets, baskets, and carven tools or knick-knacks. There is a growing demand and commerce for these sorts of items, as settlers in larger settlements sometimes lack the raw resources or skills required to craft them.
All in all, farmers continue to display their characteristic resourcefulness in every aspect of their lifestyles. Whether it's fighting the tempestuous seasons, or dealing with the manifold hazards of living in isolated areas - such as creature, or more commonly, raider attacks - the farmers of the Commonwealth adapt and thrive throughout it all.
- from the scribblings of self proclaimed historical anthropologist, Nells B. Schumaker, found abandoned int the Concord Museum of Freedom