Chapter Seven
Changing a Food System, One Seed at a Time
La Semilla Food Center, Anthony, New Mexico
It takes a certain kind of person—or, in this case, group of friends—to look at fourteen acres of dry, dusty desert in one of the poorest regions in the country and envision a way for a community to take the food system into its own hands. Meet the three founders of La Semilla Food Center in Anthony, New Mexico, a small rural community near the Mexican border.
Cristina Dominguez-Eshelman is a soft-spoken thirty-four-year-old who didn't realize how important food was to her until she moved away from her family—or how much she loved growing things until she got her hands in some soil.
Aaron Sharratt is a gentle thirty-two-year-old who, while traveling as an undergraduate in Mexico, became hooked by a deep interest in how a landscape can impact what we eat, what jobs we hold, and even the relationships we have with our families and communities.
Rebecca Wiggins-Reinhard, thirty-one, is a spirited social activist who grew up completely uninterested in her family's farm—until she discovered that social justice issues were tied to every aspect of the food system.
The three came together several years ago around a modest project focused on engaging young people and their families in creating community gardens in Anthony and nearby towns. In the process, they say, they recognized the potential to inspire changes in eating habits, build awareness of food systems, and unleash the leadership abilities of young people—even in the face of some rather extreme everyday challenges.
“When you begin to think about the issues facing people here—oh, my gosh, the obesity problems, the public health concerns, the security, the border, the border patrol,” says Sharratt. “And yet, there is so much energy, so much potential.”
But how does one transform a sense of possibility into systemic change in food justice, health, and economics? “We thought if we're going to make an impact, if we're thinking about a kind of systems change at a big level, there would need to be people who are focused on driving those efforts forward,” says Dominguez-Eshelman.
So the three friends left their jobs and created La Semilla Food Center, a nonprofit dedicated to bringing food justice and economic opportunity to the people of the Paso del Norte region of southern New Mexico.1 The Center is establishing a farm, offering an education program on how to grow and cook nutritious food that is native to the region, and convening a Youth Food Policy Council that teaches young people how to influence the local food system.2 Their goal is to reshape what they identify as the “foodshed” that stretches from El Paso, Texas, to Las Cruces, New Mexico.
The challenges they face are enormous. The old well on their land, once used to irrigate cotton fields, is broken. Sections of the wire fence around it were stolen. The Rio Grande is now no more than a big dry riverbed for several months a year. According to the New Mexico Environment Department, waste from the estimated 30,000 dairy cows housed in the many factory farms along the interstate has contaminated the groundwater. Locals also speak of the fine mist of manure that often hangs in the air, a factory-farming byproduct that has been found to cause asthma.
New Mexico, moreover, is one of the most “food-insecure” states in the nation. As recently as 2007, it was ranked as the number one place in the nation where people lacked reliable access to adequate food. One in every seven persons struggles with hunger in the state.3
On the other side of the food issue, the state also struggles with rising obesity and diet-related disease. In 2011, the state's adult obesity rate was 25.6 percent, up from 11.6 just fifteen years before—making it one of seven U.S. states to experience a doubling of obesity in that time.4 Its diabetes rate as of 2011 was 8.3 percent—up from 5.3 percent.5 Not coincidentally, many local residents who once made their own nutritious meals no longer cook, let alone grow, their own food. And, as if that were not enough for the young leaders trying to change all this, the three leaders of La Semilla are not even farmers.
“Do you think we're crazy?” asks Dominguez-Eshelman. “We ask ourselves if we're crazy sometimes.”
Crazy or not, they are attracting significant support for their efforts. In 2011, the W. K. Kellogg Foundation awarded La Semilla a three-year grant of $432,680. Kent Halla, owner of Sierra Vista Growers, the largest nursery in the Southwest, gave them fourteen acres of land to farm. And Olga Pedroza, a prominent city councilwoman, is just one of the community leaders who routinely champion their cause. The reasons are threefold: the critical needs they have identified, the solutions they are proposing—and the emotional, social, and ecological intelligence they are bringing to the effort.
The system La Semilla is tackling has changed dramatically since the 1960s. As Roni Neff of the Johns Hopkins Center for a Livable Future summarized,
In the last fifty years, vast tracts of land devoted to corn and soy have largely replaced farms that raise animals and grow fruits, vegetables, and a variety of grains. Animals raised for food or to produce food have been moved from farms to feedlots and confinement operations. And instead of family farmers, large corporations such as Tyson, Smithfield, Cargill, and ConAgra control much of the process and market.6
These changes stemmed from what originally seemed to be a very good idea: the application of scientific breakthroughs to increase agricultural yields dramatically. Indeed, the practices of the “Green Revolution” earned Norman Borlaug, the plant scientist whose work inspired it, the Nobel Peace Prize in 1970.7 And corporations and governments, recognizing the opportunity presented by the new technologies, fostered the rapid spread of industrialized agriculture from the United States to Asia and Latin America.
On the face of it, industrialized agriculture promised to be a most welcome solution to the timeless problem of world hunger. But some so-called solutions, as writer and farmer Wendell Berry observed, led to ramifying sets of new problems.8 And during the past several decades, it has become increasingly clear that industrial agriculture has indeed created a host of new problems impacting the health of people and the planet. The use of fertilizers and pesticides, for example, has led to higher rates of cancer and the contamination of soil, streams, and groundwater. Monoculture farming (the cultivation of a single crop over a large area) has led to the loss of biodiversity, undermining the productivity and stability of ecosystems. Factory farms, where most chickens, hogs, and cattle are now bred and slaughtered in the United States, contaminate water and soil and create air pollution linked to asthma and other respiratory problems.
Modern agriculture, moreover, is the single largest user of water worldwide, with global agriculture consuming nearly two quadrillion gallons of rainwater and irrigation water annually—enough to cover the entire United States with two feet of water, as essayist Wenonah Hauter has reported.9 Industrialized agriculture is also highly dependent on diminishing supplies of fossil fuels, accounting for some 19 percent of fossil fuel consumption in the United States. It is also one of the most significant contributors to the greenhouse gas emissions that cause climate change.10
Meanwhile, the reality of hunger and malnutrition remains. In 2009, the United Nations reported that the number of hungry people in the world topped one billion—one of every seven men, women, and children. In recent decades, there has also been an epidemic of obesity and diet-related illnesses in developed countries such as the United States. The causes are complex, to be sure, but one of the primary reasons is the rise of fast foods and processed foods that are high in fat and sugar and low in nutrition. Because these foods are cheap—often cheaper than more nutritious options—many low-income people have come to rely on them to the detriment of the health of their families and communities in places like southern New Mexico.
A thirty-minute drive north from El Paso, Texas, and south from Las Cruces, New Mexico, the town of Anthony is divided across two state lines. On the New Mexico side, Anthony has a population of nearly 8,000—with some 97 percent of those who live in “colonia communities” earning less than $5,000 a year, according to the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development.12 Many work at seasonal jobs such as harvesting pecans that are exported to China, or they take odd jobs where they can get them. On the Texas side, Anthony has fewer than 4,000 people and is home to a federal correctional institution; several food stores, such as Big 8 and Circle K Drive-In; and all the usual fast-food restaurants: McDonald's, Burger King, Wendy's, Carl's Jr., and Little Caesars Pizza.
Xavier Hernandez, a high school student from Anthony, remembers when no fast-food restaurants existed in his community. But as they became ubiquitous, many people became accustomed to eating fast food without a second thought about nutrition. “I didn't know much about food or nothing,” says Christopher Garcia, a young man meeting with friends in Anthony's community garden. “I'd eat fast food or whatever. You know, I'd just go out and eat.” His sister, Priscilla, who holds a baby in her arms, agrees: “I didn't know about growing. I didn't even know there was organic food.”
But when they heard about a program that would pay them to work in a garden and learn about healthy food, they signed up—just for the chance to make some money. What they didn't expect was that the experience would turn their lives around.
“I learned how to have a relationship with my food and be more mindful about everything I do,” says Priscilla Garcia. “I learned that where we get our food is so important, and how everything is so connected, and just how food itself nurtures your body and how we nurture it.” With tears in her eyes, she adds, “Just the whole manifestation of my life, I believe, happened here.”
While working at Colonias Development Council, which funded the community gardens project with support from a National Park Service grant, Dominguez-Eshelman, Sharratt, and Wiggins-Reinhard offered classes; engaged young people in the Youth Food Policy Council; took them to events; and connected them with growers and food activists—efforts they continue now through La Semilla. In the process, they work hard to get to know the participants individually, believing that relationships are key to any authentic learning experience.
They also take care to be nonjudgmental. For example, they tell participants in their programs, “Do not go home and tell your parents that we just said that everything you buy is wrong, and you should be buying organic,” explains Dominguez-Eshelman. “But we do say you have a right to know that there are differences in food. And if you want that access [to healthy food], you have a right to ask why you don't have it, and how can we work towards it.”
Manuel Garcia, brother of Priscilla and Christopher, is planning to also join in the work of La Semilla. As he has become more aware of the importance of eating healthy food, he says he has become increasingly, passionately committed to educating others. “I don't think it's a coincidence that minorities, in particular poor minorities, have higher rates of diabetes and heart disease,” he says. “And I really want to start educating people on the negative health effects that a lot of the food they sell us has on our lives—not only on our lives, but also on our families, on our communities.”
One discovery that particularly influenced him followed some research into the chemicals that go into fast foods. He found, for example, that American McDonald's French fries and chicken nuggets are cooked in oil that contains dimethylpolysiloxane, a form of silicone that prevents hot oil from foaming.13 “It is the main component of Silly Putty. It's basically like a rubber component. It's also used in caulk that plumbers use to make the pipes watertight and in all sorts of medical equipment. So I started to think, why is this in my food?”
These are the kinds of stories that convince the leaders of La Semilla of the potential for transforming individual and community food practices through education. “Just learning about that bigger picture and seeing how connected they are to it—and that they still have power, by the choices that they make or don't make in terms of what food they buy. All of us have the power to make changes even at that small level,” says Dominguez-Eshelman.
There is also a deep sense of belonging—to the families, to communities, to nature, to life—that comes from reengaging in food at the community level, says Sharratt. “Unless you're involved in the food system or involved in growing, everybody becomes so disconnected from where our food comes from, what it means for our bodies. Now you go into a grocery store and there's no connection whatsoever. It's all covered in plastic.” La Semilla is trying to help people rediscover those connections by showing them where food actually comes from, he says, and helping them recognize the impact of food—for better or worse—on people's physical and emotional lives.
Ricardo Salvador, formerly a professor of agronomy at Iowa State University and now a program officer with the W. K. Kellogg Foundation, grew up near Anthony. He knew it to be a conservative place, deeply invested in the commodity production of cotton and pecans and holding onto its factory farms. He also knew that its residents suffered from food-related health problems. That's why one of the first things he did when he joined the Kellogg Foundation in 2006 was to search for an organization interested in inspiring a change in the region's food system. But although he searched widely, the promise of grant money in hand, he could not find any takers. “I ran into everything from confusion, to bewilderment, to opposition—everything but enthusiasm,” he recalls.
During the past few years, however, interest in food and health has begun to grow in the region, in part because of the New Mexico Collaboration to End Hunger, a statewide public-private partnership formed after New Mexico was declared the most food-insecure state in the nation, and in part because of the local efforts of Dominguez-Eshelman, Sharratt, and Wiggins-Reinhard.
“Two years ago, people weren't anywhere near as ready as they are now for change” in the food system, says Olga Pedroza, city councilor for Las Cruces, New Mexico. “And I think that now, because of all the things that [the La Semilla founders] have done—the food summit, and the teaching, and the presentations, and the relationship building—the climate of the place is beginning to get a little bit more sympathetic.”
Salvador is even more enthusiastic. “I never thought the work they are doing would take root in that place,” he says. “But they have brought together a really broad coalition of people with convergent interests,” including government officials, businesses, farmers, and educators. “I really respect that they have already gathered significant resources—and I am not referring just to financial resources, but significant social capital in support of the alternative vision they have.”
Salvador admits that the Kellogg Foundation views La Semilla as a high-risk investment: The leaders are young, the organization is a start-up, and their vision is daunting. But Salvador believes their plan makes sense, and they have the people skills to build a broad base of community support.
Dominguez-Eshelman, for example, “clearly thinks both deeply and far in the future and has the emotional intelligence that allows her to lead from behind,” Salvador says. “She works with the process of the group. She doesn't get ahead of collective thinking. She gently guides in a particular direction. And what makes her particularly effective is that she doesn't have a predetermined agenda with others. I think she literally is one of the best listeners I've ever run into. She listens, processes, and then puts her thoughts out there.”
The three founders are also effective collaborators, because each brings an important set of skills that the others value, and no one person tries to overshadow the rest. Sharratt, for example, is appreciated for his ability to express the group's ideas in writing—most notably, in grant applications. And Wiggins-Reinhard is valued for being able to jump into action and make things happen with great enthusiasm for the young people with whom they work.
“I never thought I would enjoy working with teenagers, but I found that I love it,” Wiggins-Reinhard says. “We interact with youth and their families on such a personal level; it is just incredible to watch them grow and transform into young adults and advocates for change in their communities.”
But if real change is to come to the food system in southern New Mexico, it will take more than good ideas, people skills, and even coalition building. That is what led the founders of La Semilla to the idea of starting a youth farm—a place where young people can learn about sustainable farming, permaculture, nutrition, culinary skills, and entrepreneurship.
“I think the farm is so integral,” says Sharratt, the son of a soil scientist with the United States Department of Agriculture. “That is the piece of it for us that we're so passionate about focusing on. I feel like part of that comes out of this recognition that for any change to happen—this desire for farmers' markets everywhere—we need to have production. Because we can have these conversations until we're blue in the face. But if people aren't producing food for local markets, well…” he pauses there, as if to say, “…then it is just talk.”
They know, of course, that the food they will grow on the land they only recently acquired will not be sufficient to feed the whole region. But they want the modest farm to serve as a demonstration site to show others what is possible—that young people can grow their own food, even in the desert. And you never know what is possible after that.
They never imagined that they would be able to acquire land in the first year of their organization's existence, for example. But Halla, who appreciates their goal of showing people a positive alternative, gave them fourteen acres outright when he learned what they were doing. Walking across his own property (he owns some 180 acres), the sixty-five-year-old nurseryman says, “I just have a good feeling about them, and if they're interested in doing this, I'm interested in helping them.”
To learn more about what it takes to run a farm, Dominguez-Eshelman recently attended the University of California, Santa Cruz, to earn a certificate in ecological horticulture from the Center for Agroecology and Sustainable Food Systems. She was glad for the chance to accelerate her learning curve, but she recognized at the same time that the more she knew, the more she didn't know. So, true to their collaborative spirit, La Semilla's founders will not be diving into farming alone. As of early 2012, they formed an advisory committee to help them develop a farm plan and hire a farm manager.
Behind them are a number of powerful players committed to ensuring that they have every possible chance of success. “We have a lot staked on this,” says Salvador. “We're not leaving it up to chance. We're doing everything we can to support them.” The Kellogg Foundation is, for example, providing technical assistance and helping the organization network with groups in higher income communities in northern New Mexico, such as Farm to Table, a Santa Fe–based nonprofit dedicated to promoting local agriculture.
If La Semilla lives up to what many believe to be its potential, Halla could eventually turn his entire business over to the organization in the form of a foundation, a prospect he has begun discussing with Salvador, Kellogg's program officer.
But for now, the leaders of La Semilla are remaining grounded in the English translation of their name: the seed. They understand their mission to be seeding actual food—and the idea of nutritious food for all. “In a way, it is about planting those seeds so that we're not the only ones speaking about the region and what the needs are,” says Dominguez-Eshelman.
In the end, how else are people going to change a complex system controlled by corporate and government interests? Halla adds, “You've just got to start one person at a time, one area at a time—and seed.”
Notes
1 To learn about La Semilla Food Center, visit the website at http://www.lasemillafoodcenter.org/.
2 The Youth Food Policy Council is conducted in collaboration with the Colonias Development Council, an organization dedicated to improving the quality of life in communities along the United States–Mexico border. See http://www.lasemillafoodcenter.org/programs.html for more information.
3 According to the New Mexico Collaboration to End Hunger, in 2010, New Mexico was ranked the twelfth most food insecure state. See http://www.endnmhunger.org/about.html for more information.
4 Trust for America's Health, “New Report: New Mexico is 33rd Most Obese State in the Nation,” July 7, 2011, http://healthyamericans.org/reports/obesity2011/release.php?stateid=NM.
5 According to the U.S.–Mexico Border Diabetes Prevention and Control Project. See also http://healthyamericans.org/reports/obesity2011/release.php?stateid=NM.
6 Roni Neff, “Food Matters: How What We Eat Affects Our Health and the Planet,” Imagine, January/February 2009, http://www.jhsph.edu/bin/s/a/foodmatters.pdf.
7 Norman Borlaug was an American agronomist, humanitarian, and Nobel laureate who has been called “the father of the Green Revolution” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norman_Borlaug).
8 In 2011, The Berry Center was established at New Castle, Kentucky. Its mission is “to continue his work by bringing focus, knowledge, and cohesiveness to the work of changing our ruinous industrial agriculture system into a culture that uses nature as the standard, that accepts no permanent damage to the ecosphere, and that takes into consideration human health in local communities.” (http://www.berrycenter.org/mission-and-vision/)
9 Tara Lohan, ed., Water Matters (AlterNet Books, 2010), cited in Wenonah Hauter, “Industrial Agriculture's Water Use: It's Time for Change,” Mother Earth News, June 17, 2011, http://www.motherearthnews.com/sustainable-farming/industrial-agriculture-water-use-ze0z11zkon.aspx.
10 American Public Health Association, “Toward a Healthy, Sustainable Food System,” November 6, 2007, http://www.apha.org/advocacy/policy/policysearch/default.htm?id=1361.
11 UN News Service, “UN expert makes case for ecological farming practices to boost food production,” UN News Centre, March 8, 2011, http://www.un.org/apps/news/story.asp?NewsID=37704&Cr=farming. To read De Schutter's report, visit http://www.srfood.org/index.php/en/component/content/article/1174-report-agroecology-and-the-right-to-food.
12 “Colonia communities” are rural communities along the United States-Mexico border that may lack some of the most basic living necessities, such as potable water and sewer systems, electricity, paved roads, and safe and sanitary housing (http://www.hud.gov/groups/farmwkercolonia.cfm).
13 David Martin, “All McNuggets Not Created Equal,” CNN, June 25, 2010, http://thechart.blogs.cnn.com/2010/06/25/a-tale-of-2-nuggets/.