In building a strong food community, there’s no right or wrong way to start. But not starting — now, that’s a mistake. Be courageous wherever and whoever you are. Use everything you’ve got, from networks to technology to know-how. Do not be ashamed if what you start is not perfect. Fear of failure squashes creativity every time.
Look around you. What is the history of your place, the people, the culture? Food activism is not a recent phenomenon. We all stand on the shoulders of those who came before us. Who are the elders, activators, and instigators who came before you? What did they try to do, and what were their successes and failures? Ask them, while they’re still around.
This is not about re-creating the past, but instead about incorporating lessons learned in order to build resilient food systems today, using all the resources and innovations we can to create better access to fresh whole foods for everyone. Ask, then: What food grows around you today, and what food used to be grown? Ask why it disappeared. Was it due to the weather, consumer mistrust, job loss, low wages, trends, unsustainable business or nonprofit practices, distribution, corporate consolidation, or some other reason?
Know your place, and get to know it all over again, through the lens of building a healthy and strong food community for everyone.
Start small, because even the seemingly small things take time, commitment, and follow-through. Hold a potluck with a purpose to learn more about your food system. Cook and serve food that’s grown locally or regionally and that’s culturally grounded to your place, by the seasons. Buying locally grown food supports growers and your area’s economy, as well as health. And food from nearby just tastes better.
Learn more about what you can do to make a big difference; there are so many issues that you will have to narrow your scope and find one that interests you most.
Host a dinner at which you can meet with the farmers in your community and ask how you can support them.
As the poet Martha Postlewaite writes in her poem “Clearing,”
Do not try to save
the whole world
or do anything grandiose.
Just start. And keep your phone charged.
Start with a sketch. As I noted in the introduction to this book, the doctor drew a picture of my father’s heart because it is important to try to visualize what it is you want fixed. As you think about creating a more just and healthy food system, you will need to know how the one you have already functions. Who is in your food community? Who are your potential allies and your collaborators? Also, an important question is this: Who is left out?
When my friend Julia Kidd moved to the small rural town of West Tisbury, Massachusetts, from New York City, she wrote on an index card, “This island has everything I need,” and stashed it in her underwear drawer. I love this daily assurance. It tells you what you need to know: help surrounds you now. Today you have what you need. And if it’s not right there in the immediate, it’s probably only one or two degrees of separation away. Substitute the name of your town or village or neighborhood for the words “This island” in Julia’s affirmation to help you work within your existing food system to change it into one that feeds and sustains rather than withholds; into one that that is resilient rather than rigid and destructive; and into one that is varied, vibrant, and meaningful.
As you think about ways that you can work to strengthen your local food system, keep collaboration and economic sustainability in focus. “Collaboration is the new competition,” said John Hickenlooper, Colorado’s governor. The advantages of collective local wisdom are enormous when facing the multidimensional issues related to good food against a backdrop of climate change and of the gazillions of lobbying and marketing dollars the processed food industry possesses. As federal grant monies dry up, we need creative collaborations now more than ever.
locavore (noun): One whose diet consists only or principally of locally grown or produced food. Origin: early 21st century: on the pattern of carnivore, herbivore, etc.
I hope the word “locavore” is forever included in future dictionaries as reflecting a kind of cultural apex when it was nominated the Oxford Word of the Year in 2007. Let’s also hope that the concept will not be relegated to the dustbin of history, along with the avocado-green and autumn-orange kitchen appliances of the 1970s.
Unfortunately, however, this word has been pinned with a connotation of pretentiousness, preciousness, or snobbery. Some people who aspire to be locavores seem to suggest by their use of the word that good food is only for those who are somehow more aesthetically, cognitively, and emotionally aware than most others. They use it to turn their conversation into a kind of competitive tango of culinary elevation.
So even though “locavore” is kind of a cool word, because it does mark a shift and sparks debates and diets, it’s not entirely inclusive. As we talk about food, I prefer the simple word “eater.” This word includes all of us.
Perhaps you never considered yourself to have enough of whatever it is that’s necessary to be a food activist. Perhaps you have let your fears and insecurities stop you from even imagining what you can accomplish. Perhaps you think you need a specialized degree to work in food systems (the phrase itself is kind of off-putting and clinical) and you don’t have any credentials. Or maybe you think someone else, someone more qualified, is going to do it for you. You may also see time and money as barriers.
All these resistances live in each of us every day. But you know what? Light up those resistances with a blue flame! Start cooking, and invite others to your table. Find and connect with the collective wisdom held by people who live alongside you today. It’s how my own story of becoming a food activist started — at the stove, in my kitchen, with one of the best potlucks I ever had.
In May 2005, I threw a handful of figurative darts at my community food web, finding some writers, fishermen, farmers, grocers, clergy members, beekeepers, gardeners — eaters, 35 in all — to come together for a working potluck dinner.
I was excited and nervous as I stood in my family’s dining room in Vineyard Haven, Massachusetts, surrounded by friends, some of whom I knew, some I didn’t yet know. The energy in the room was electric in the best possible of ways.
I remember the slow-cooked beef ribs the most, how just a few bites of them steadied me. And there was a salad made by Jan, lamb from Clarissa and Mitch’s Allen Farm, and farmed oysters provided by Rick of the MV Shellfish Group.
After we ate, we held a facilitated discussion about the “s” word: sustainability. We discussed what that word meant to us in that time and place — and, more important, what we were going to do about it. That evening, we were determined to end the discussion with actions, and we did.
Out of this gathering, a group of people eventually established the small nonprofit named Island Grown Initiative, of which I was the founder and first executive director. Another group came together to organize a Slow Food group (a convivium, in Slow Food parlance). As of this printing, both the Island Grown Initiative and Martha’s Vineyard Slow Food still hold a presence in our community’s local food system. Both groups contribute to food awareness and education. Both organizations work toward a more sustainable way of life that respects the water, energy, land, animals, food, and people.
The potluck I held in May 2005 changed forever how I view my community, neighbors, the local economy, the schools, the landscape, and the food I buy, cook, and eat. It’s incredible what one night and a simple thing like sharing food — and a focused discussion with different perspectives coming together — can do.
Use the Know Your Local Food Community list to help you identify allies in your local food web and invite them, whether you know them or not. Don’t be shy.
Decide on a location that can comfortably fit anywhere from 10 to 35 people. This is a working potluck, and if you get much bigger than 35 people, the gathering may be difficult to facilitate. Choose a private home or perhaps a community center, Grange hall, YMCA, or library conference room. Check first to make sure that your chosen venue will allow you to serve food.
Designate a facilitator or cofacilitators. I’m a strong believer in having someone from the outside help facilitate your potluck. I’ve attended other “get started” potlucks and seen this guest facilitator phenomenon work wonders. We neighbors tend to behave better in front of guests. John Ash, a California-based cookbook author and teacher, was my cofacilitator, coconspirator, coagitator, and always a friend.
Note: If your community is already engaged and active yet you’re looking to take on another project or go to the next level, ask a more specific question around the topic you want to develop. Maybe your goal is to build a community garden, or start a seed conservation movement or a farm to school initiative.
“When people are ready to, they change. They never do it before then, and sometimes they die before they get around to it. You can’t make them change if they don’t want to, just like when they do want to, you can’t stop them.”
— Andy Warhol
by John Ash
Serves 4
It’s hard to screw up short ribs. You just need to cook them slowly and gently for the meat to become softened and luscious. Once cooked, they can be served as is or pulled from the bone and turned into a great topper for rice, noodles, or a fantastic hash. Since short ribs contain a fair amount of fat, I like to braise them ahead of time and then refrigerate them so that I can easily remove the congealed fat.
— John Ash © 2001
Get to the heart of the matter. Identify the issues that inspire and empower you. Meat is what got me hooked; within that broad topic, the two specific areas that concerned me were animal welfare and cooking healthy food for my kids. There are lots of angles, issues, and nuances around meat, and this is true about any food. Value this diversity, and use it to leverage change to support healthier food communities. Here are a few (!) of the issues that meat brings up:
— Array of issues courtesy of The Meatrix (themeatrix.com)
Seek out these authors and speakers to learn, be inspired, stay informed on issues of food, health, economics, climate change, and agriculture: Wendell Berry, Mark Bittman, Malcolm Gladwell, Jean Glasgow, Jessica B. Harris, Frederick L. Kirschenmann, Bill McKibben, Wangari Maathai, Gary Nabhan, Marion Nestle, Raj Patel, Michael Pollan, Vandana Shiva, and Muhammad Yunus. Read a lot. Learn, take in the information, and transform it into doable actions.
Feeding farmers is very satisfying. They are appreciative, and good eaters to boot. Since Island Grown Initiative was a small group committed to supporting local farmers, we needed to hear directly from them — rather than from industry insiders, state representatives, or consultants (a.k.a. lobbyists) — about how we could best give them that support.
We wanted to create a safe environment in which both we and the farmers could speak freely and respectfully. Our first farmers’ dinner conversation took a bit of cajoling. We were all in uncharted territory and somewhat tentative. When we asked the farmers what they needed in order to keep growing the food we eaters wanted, their initial answers were things like “I need more fencing and a new tractor.” We were casting about. Three themes finally arose: our local farmers needed skilled labor, more land, and access to a humane slaughter facility. With that information, we went back to our drawing board. In our community, land and labor were already being addressed to varying degrees by other nonprofits focused on conservation and affordable housing. A slaughterhouse, however, was not being pursued beyond lively talks over coffee at the general store that always started with, “We should . . .” and ended despondently with, “but it’s never going to happen.” As it turned out, we were able to make this happen (see Build a Local Slaughterhouse). The moral of this story is that you don’t know where your farmers’ dinner conversation will lead you. Start cooking to find out.
“Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell others.”
— Mary Oliver
The Potluck with a Purpose casts a wide net into your community food system, whereas the farmers’ dinner is more specific to a group of people you want to engage. But if it’s not specifically farmers you’re trying to reach, or if the project you want to jump-start hinges on working with a different target group, then go ahead and adapt the Farmers’ Dinner model to fit your needs. For instance, if you want to support a food recovery program, then invite chefs, caterers, and food bank and community supper people. If you want to focus on seed conservation or pollination, invite garden club members from your region. If you want to plant fruit trees on public lands, invite orchardists and representatives from the parks department. For any group you decide to invite, have an agenda but also be open to going wherever the meeting takes you.