2nd 5th Day
By 8:30 am my car was packed with bbq, trowels, grub hoes, pepper plants, macoroni salad, a stack of reading, my friend and guide for the morning: Robbie Adelberg, and myself. Few people know that combination is the perfect setup to study community based small scale sustainable agriculture with 14 FoodWorks interns. After coming together and discussing the schedule, topics and goals for the day, we jumped on 264 to 3rd St going to the south end of Louisville to visit one of the refugee gardens in the city. Our destination was located behind the New Heights Baptist Church on Southside Drive. A community garden of over an acre made of 30' by 30' plots and a menagerie of ethnic and personal identities. We sat in the shade as our guides Lauren Goldberg and Robbie explained how many refugees end up in Louisville through church efforts, family connections and the city's reputation. Many of the these refugees are coming from camps and situations where the concept of a normal traditional lifestyle is alienated. With the help of dedicated people such as Lauren and Robbie, places with land like the church are linked with the refugees in a relationship where expansive lawns can be tilled and cultivated to provide an outlet for a cultural, historical, ancestral connection that has sometimes laid dormant for decades. The gardeners were from three main ethnic groups: Bhutanese, Karen from Burma and Burundi. Each section of the garden reflected a different agricultural heritage and perspective on food production shown in the inter-cropping of corn, beans and squash in the Burundi plots and the use of complex trellising systems for bitter gourds in the Karen areas. As we toured the garden, the families and personalities came out of the arrangements and the cultivation of the fields. One of the most interesting plots was that of the actual church members who decided to garden with the refugees to whom they had lent the land. The contrast between the church plots with straight lines, wide spacing and recognizable vegetables demonstrated the diversity not only within the garden but in the city.
We traveled to the People's Garden in Shawnee Park, the far west end of Louisville, for the afternoon. There we met Valerie Magnuson and her two Vista volunteers. We arrived at the tail end of a group of elementary age students who were exploring the garden and trying to show their pride in the harvest by boldly biting into fresh raw red onions. Valerie circled us under a tree and, after introductions, told us the story of the garden. It was a story with racial undercurrents, socioeconomic conflicts, public hearings and a gradual reconciliation. Through the story, just as we have seen the complexity and layers behind food, we saw the many cultural connotations residing in a garden and how many feelings may be conjured as one is planted. We then moved to the garden where we loosened soil, weeded strawberries, mulched trees, and hoed ground, but more importantly we talked. We talked about our days and thoughts. We talked about the role of different people in the internship and food system. We talked how people rarely talk now: face to face, bare feet in the soil, over future food.
3rd 5th Day
Many of the interns realized a new appreciation for labor intensive sustainable agriculture as they experienced oddly shaped sun burn cause by shirt straps and acute cases of dehydration this morning. We arrived at Field Day Family Farms at 9:45 am and already walking in the sun was enough to start a good sweat out. Immediately we were shown the finer points of pulling, cleaning and tying garlic by Ivor Chodkowski of Field Day Family farms and set to work. The interns rotated between the garlic stations and pounding steel posts into the ground to help trellis tomato plants in the coming weeks. As the groups progressed, proud smiles of accomplishment emerged from the three generations of workers we had in the field. I fired up the cob oven built by the Food Literacy Project who graciously allowed us to use their beautiful outdoor kitchen. After a presentation by Shadae of the Food Literacy Project on the state of obesity, diabetes, and nutrition in the city, we designed our own pizzas using local squash, beets, leeks, sweet and hot peppers, oregano, thyme, radish, red onion, basil and arugula pesto and garlic. After lunch we piled into the back of Ivor's pick-up and took a tour of the farm. From the bed we picked his brain over his definition of what is local and sustainable, the reasoning behind his choice to not apply for organic certification, his future in farming and the expansion of food systems for local people. In leaving for the day, each with a bulb of garlic from the harvest, we were faced with the many contradictions in American society as Field Day Family Farm is bordered by a massive golf course which to me represents one of the most resource intensive and least productive mono-cultures created by humans.
Numbers for the 2nd and 3rd 5th Days:
-Firsts for Interns: Eating woodsorrel, lambsquaters, rosel, sweetgum......weeds. Riding in the back of a pick-up. Harvesting garlic. Using a post pounder. Traveling to the West End. Using a cob oven.
-Hundreds of bulbs of garlic pulled. More impressively, thousands of cloves harvested.
-27 handmade locally sourced ingredient pizzas cooked and consumed.
-4 ethnic garden personalities observed.
-3 hours and 45 minutes of Rowan at the farm harvesting garlic, beating all of our bets.
-14 sunburnt, dehydrated interns
-1 teacher content to sit inside on a computer on another 94 degree day.
FoodWorks Interns and Others:
Questions for discussion (all are invited):
1) In opening the People's Garden in the west end of Louisville, many issues came to the forefront regarding race, socioeconomic status and the convergence of diverse perspectives. Are these programs such as the People's Garden, Healthy-in-a Hurry groceries, Fresh Stops, etc. a form of cultural colonization? Are they a form of behavior modification? Or are they a concerted effort by a piece of larger community to preserve itself and quality of life?
2) I have an aversion to lawns and golf courses. I see them as resource intensive, inefficient uses of space and time as well as demonstration of wealth. I understand the need for common spaces such as public parks, lawns on campuses and areas for larger congregation for celebration, protest and communion. Can someone please continue the conversation began last Thursday defending the individuals right to their lawn and the use of resources in preserving that space?
3) In discussing many of the issues the interns have been confronting, one of the programs supporters broke all of the issues down to a "class issue." I know collectively we have a problem with reductionist reasoning but can all of the issues we have been dealing with be broken down to a simple case of class disparity?
4) "Good food is truly brain food; it gives your mind something to chew on. It brings new meaning to the phrase 'food for thought.'" -Sam
Last week Sam posted this sentence in response to the second blog posting. In teaching my students at Fern Creek High School, many of them fought tooth and nail against learning the story behind their food. They said I was ruining food for them. Many seemed to appreciate the non-thought that went into eating. How can we mesh the two contradictory definitions of good food?
Check out pics from the 5th Days:
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| Rocking out at the People's Garden moments before Robbie river-danced. |
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| Using the action hoe and planting. Yeah! |
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| Getting intimate with Bermuda Grass. |
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| Breaking up the grounds. |
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| Ivor shows the proper stance for pulling garlic which is ironically the same for using a pitching wedge. |
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| Garlic and squinting. |
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| Surprisingly, Charlie made that face after each pull. |
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| After removing the bees, we cooked the pizzas. |
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| TEAMWORK! |
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| Contemplating the mysteries of sustainable ag. |
I started writing this post to show how class was a driving factor behind these issues but certainly not the only significant one, then reconsidered halfway through. The small beginnings of large-scale industrial food started during the industrial revolution (I believe) as people moved in increasing numbers out of rural areas and farms into cities and factory jobs, where they no longer had the time or space for much farming. Along with the migration of people came a new class as well as increasing class distinctions. As we moved rapidly into an unsustainable world, class was certainly the #1 issue on a lot of people’s minds (“The history of all hitherto existing society is the history of class struggles”) and through that lens we can with certainty relate everything we have seen to class. While class is probably by far the largest issue here in my opinion, there might be a little more to it that I find really important.
ReplyDeleteClass has been an obvious issue that is visible everywhere in Louisville. As Joe mentioned on our first meeting here, the city is strikingly segregated, which of course is not something unique to Louisville, but nevertheless is dramatically present here. The lush variety of both casual and upscale dining as well as grocery stores here on restaurant row and in the highlands is a far cry from what we witnessed in the West End as well as what I see in Old Louisville, where I work everyday.
So are class issues the not-so-secret driver behind most of the issues we’ve been witnessing? Surely, socioeconomic disparity is one of the big reasons means some people can afford fresh local produce (or even produce in general) while many have not the time, money, or desire to buy local produce even if it is available.
Check out this NYT article outlining 2 recent studies that found the average poor urban neighborhood has more grocery stores, supermarkets, and full-service restaurants than more affluent ones. (http://tinyurl.com/NYTfoodarticle)
With this in mind, the struggle is still a class related one, but perhaps it is less that there are no options for those in lower-class neighborhoods, and more that food education is needed. Better food is apparently more available than we thought, but it still needs to be more of a want and priority. And that, of course, is the hardest task.
Luckily we have a chance, on some scale at least, to change this in Louisville. I serve customers from every socioeconomic stratum each day, and without a doubt talking to customers about their food is the most rewarding part of my job. From what I’ve seen so far, yes, class is the defining issue here, but luckily I (I haven’t talked to others yet but hope they can say the same) feel that I can do something to change that within the sector of local food.
POSTED ON BEHALF OF MAREN GRANSTROM
ReplyDeleteIt’s easy to think that the way you live is the best. But is it? Can you justify doing what is “right” for the health of people and land at the risk of alienating them and creating an even greater racial divide?
Before I heard Valerie mention this issue, I was foolish enough to assume that anyone and everyone would welcome the opportunity to have a garden and spend their time outside. It never entered my head that someone wouldn’t want a garden, that they would consider it not a luxury but an uncomfortable reminder of food insecurity. To me, a garden is a benefit that comes with the luxuries of space and time, not a sign that you can’t afford to go to the grocery store. So I was fairly taken aback, but it’s made me do some thinking.
However, I still can’t come up with a similar example in my own life, something that would put me in that position. I’ve always had the opportunity to buy anything I needed, and therefore I relish the opportunity to grow my own food, knit my own mittens, sew my own skirts, or throw bowls on the pottery wheel—things that most people would rather purchase. Because I have the extra time and money, I can make something that I consider more beautiful, meaningful, or healthful.
But what if someone imposed restrictions on me? Like community gardens encouraging the residents of poor neighborhoods to avoid the grocery store, what if someone told me I really shouldn’t use my computer, or my car, or electricity, things that come with wealth. “But dipping your own candles is so much better than a flashlight!” I wouldn’t want to give up the convenience of my bedside lamp. I wouldn’t want to make it harder on myself, just because someone told me it would make me a better person. Is that really a good example? Probably not, but I will never really understand what “cultural colonization” feels like as long as I live in comfort in the United States. I will always be an outsider, trying to understand how “they” look at “us.”
A recent acquaintance told me that a resident of the west end had told her he felt like a lab rat, always being subjected to some sort of experiment, observed by outsiders. That’s a pretty startling comparison, but perhaps it will influence how do-gooders will go about doing good. Teaching instead of telling, working with instead of directing—those hoping to make a change in the west end (a change that I still believe would ultimately be a positive one) should perhaps take a different approach. I’m not saying it’s as easy as being friendly to the people you’re trying to influence—it’s fairly impossible to understand how behavior will be received. But still, a lab rat can’t contribute to the growth of a community—and a human can.
Sort of in response to question 3 by way of question 4...
ReplyDeleteTo me, food is first and foremost pleasure. Before the study of food justice, local eating, strange diets, food as symbolism for culture or death or sex or politics -- before all of that, there was the pleasure of eating really, really good food. With really good food comes the need to share what you're eating with other people, and thus food is also about the table. By "the table" I mean dining with others, the people, the place, the conversation, the memories.
I lived in a place last year that promoted local eating, and yet almost every one of our dinners started and ended in a quick 15 minute chow-down where food was forced between molars faster than you could say "grace." Dinner left me feeling emotionally unsatisfied with an overly full belly. So thinking about food is as much a part of good food for me as the actual eating.
I don't mean that everyone must think about where their food came from at the same moment they take a bite, because honestly that won't sit very well, especially if you're a carnivore (another topic for another day). But I believe the more you truly like good food, the more you'll want to know about it -- how it was cooked, and yes, where it came from.
Adam Gopnik says something relevant in a book of his: "We shouldn't intellectualize food, because that makes it too remote from our sensory pleasures; but we ought to talk as intelligently as we can about it, because otherwise it makes our sensory pleasures too remote from our minds."
If the food we’re eating is truly good, then it is brain food, because it keeps us thinking. If it’s non-thought we enjoy about eating (like it is for Joe’s high school students), that could mean A) Joe’s students aren’t eating good food and thus don’t want to think about it. B) Joe’s students are in the midst of divine food pleasure as they eat really good food. Good for them. They can think about food later. Or C) It takes time and education to change habits, to learn what is good, what is really good, and why it is that way. I think C is most common, and in that case, we Americans should learn from the Japanese by making food both fun and healthy at an early age with hello kitty bentos box lunches.
http://www.alafista.com/2008/03/17/kawaii-hello-kitty-bento/
yep, that’s all food.
So to finally get to question 3, I think much of what our food problem comes down to is a class issue, but I don’t think that’s the kernel of it, nor is it the answer. I think we as Americans (but especially our Government) have come to value our food too little, and other things too much. As Nina mentioned at dinner, our consumerism-ridden lifestyle (concocted by the government in the 50s) has decided for us that having 1 or 2 or 3 cars and an ipod and an ipad and an ilife is better than having a really good meal with less distractions. I admit this sounds terribly idealist, yet many other countries have class issues without such enormous problems of obesity and diabetes and fast food that our country faces. With all the interconnected problems of economy and big business it’s hard to know how/where to start eating better when it can be truly impossible for some people to afford. But I think appreciating food and the time spent eating at the table with friends may help things get better.
As food work interns, I am constantly reminded that we are part of a privileged program. We have the opportunity to attend organized outings and events, eat local foods at dinner parties, and live in one of the more affluent areas of Louisville. While working at Dare to Care, I am increasingly exposed to the other side of the economic spectrum where the effects of class disparity become more apparent. Is class a major hurdle when trying to overcome the push for local foods and sustainable agriculture? The problem is multifaceted and can be approached from different angles that are determined by individual circumstance. One could argue that class is a major obstacle when considering issues such as local food access, affordability, and education. For example, the other day a woman said she only grocery shopped at Walmart where variety was limited but produce prices where less than the typical Kroger. For this individual with three children and a jobless husband, I honestly believe income was the major deterrent from purchasing local food. In addition, she worked around the clock to support her family and did not have time to grow a garden.
ReplyDeleteAnother woman in a neighborhood nearby had a different approach. She made a tomato and squash garden in the roughly three meters of property that surrounded her house. In addition, she would set aside a certain amount of money each week for Fresh Stop. Although Fresh Stop was often more expensive than other grocery stores, she claimed it was worth it. She would spend the rest of her budget at less expensive grocery stores. Unlike the first woman, she had some financial support from her husband. Although this woman still shopped at Walmart and Kroger for groceries, she is able to be an invested participant in the local foods movement.
We can also consider the refugee garden. Even when individuals lack a sufficient area for gardening at their homes, it is possible to grow sustainable foods elsewhere. The garden, however, is limited to the surrounding area, as many individuals are without a means of transportation.
I think about these people and I realize that most of them are doing more than I am in promoting sustainable agriculture. Although I often buy vegetables from the farmers market in Louisville but at home, where there is not usually a local market, I go to the town grocery store. Before this summer, I did not grow any of my own food. Comparing my own tendencies to others mentioned above, I think that class is an obstacle, but is not the primary determining factor in the push for sustainable food. I think the issue comes down to what we discussed the other day: the hunger. People have to want to buy local, eat local, grow local. Without a drive or necessity, I feel like everyone would shop at Walmart. Again, I don’t think that these issues can be reduced to one cause, such as class. I think that individual situations, backgrounds, and mindsets create complex web of interdependent obstacles that affect the local food drive.
A significant number of the issues that we have run up against can be attributed to class. Everything from accessibility to affordability is directly correlated to transportation, which in turn is correlated to socioeconomic status. The middle and upper classes have access to local, organic and/or sustainable food because there are farmers markets and retail outlets in their communities that they can afford the time and money to shop at. Lower income people generally do not have the money to buy the more expensive produce, but they also don’t have a farmer’s market within a few blocks of their home, nor do they have the time to get there and shop. That situation will not change, even if we can get access to local and sustainable food into low income communities. It still takes precious time to go and shop for food, as opposed to the speed with which one can pick up a microwavable meal. The extra time can be spent playing with kids, working, or spending time in the community. To a lot of people, those things are more important than spending 30 minutes to an hour shopping for local, healthy food, even if it is relatively close. The same goes for the environmental benefits of buying local food. It is really difficult to care about where your food came from if you are living paycheck to paycheck, using the obscenely slow and inconvenient public transportation, have three young kids, and are barely getting by. Transportation is one of the biggest roadblocks; having to use public transportation is relatively inefficient and can take up to four times as long to get places as using a car can. Therefore, the upper and middle classes, most of who use cars on a daily basis, save a lot more time the lower classes and therefore have more time to shop, cook and care about the quality of their food. It currently is not truly feasible for low income communities and some middle class communities to access local food, and no one has made a point of explaining why they should travel and extra half an hour each way in order to get local food. Why they should spend a large portion of their income on food when the food they can get 5 minutes away is equally filling has yet to be explained either. When we can make it both feasible and logical for low income families to seek out local and sustainable food, the food movement begin to transcend the constraints of socioeconomic status.
ReplyDeleteAt dinner the other night, someone (Davis maybe?) brought up the issue of Western countries essentially forcing our obsession with fast food and restaurant chains on other countries, particularly powerhouses like China, Japan and Korea. We didn’t really expand on the conversation, but I think it’s important to realize that fast food is also causing unhealthy living and eating abroad, but for different reasons. We have talked a lot about how fast food in the US is so popular because it is cheap, readily available and tastes good (to some), thus targeting the lower class. Over the past few years, I noticed that McDonalds is not popular in countries like China for the same reasons it is in the US. Sipping on a McFlurry while munching on a McChicken Sandwich is a status symbol, particularly for school kids. In small villages, it is not hard to find local veggies, rice and meat. Farmers markets are not reserved to the weekends, but occur daily on the side of the road. Thus, when the bright and shiny gold arches appear, offering new and exciting Western meals, the younger generation goes crazy in an effort to break free from traditional eating patterns.
ReplyDeleteMost Americans who are focused on eliminating fast food chains are mostly concerned with the health risks involved in eating mystery meat (as they should be), but in Chinese villages, one McDonalds appearing on a corner has a significant cultural impact. Because most families now only have one child, the decision making structure of the household has changed dramatically. Kids have a lot of say in what they eat, and what they want is the chic, brand name fast food burger which, in contrast to our perception of fast food, is much more expensive than their fresh, local meal.
Somehow whenever someone gives me a little freedom in what to write about, it ends up being about China. So, sorry about that. But I guess I’ve been thinking a lot about class and how, in my opinion, it is very connected to access to healthy food. But, the situation changes country to country. In the US, while McDonalds and Burger King are looked down upon by those who have enough money to afford fresh produce and meat, in China, India and even European countries like France (wine at McDonalds, really?) kids are showing off their Big Mac as a symbol of wealth.
Class/wealth/lawns/gardens/perspective/frame of view. I’m going to attempt to riff on questions two and three and examine these issues together. While I reject the supposition that all issues related to food can be simplified into class issues, I do recognize that class and race connect to many of the base issues that we have been confronting in our own studies of the local food system and our conversations with community members and organizers. However that said, as I attempted to say in my previous post, I think people (especially from the outside looking in) tend to over generalize and speak in broader terms that can be accurate. Perhaps this is because it seems easier to approach a problem if it is level across any given community. Either way, it seems to be one of the larger problems with the way in which government and large organizations approach food issues. On that note, is grassroots piecemeal progress better that overarching policy changes? I’m unsure, but that’s a question to tackle on another day.
ReplyDeleteAnyways, circling back to my original point, I think food issues, factory farming v sustainable farming, community gardens, fresh stops, even Joe’s question of the viability and value of lawns revolve largely around differing viewpoints of food. This is to say, valuing food as more than simply sustenance changes the way we understand it, grow it, buy it, cook it, and eat it. Moreover, while this certainly often relates to class, people of all socio-economic and educational classes can and do view food in different ways. Plenty of wealthy people eat factory farmed, processed crap; plenty of middle and working class folks eat mostly fresh, homemade meals full of fresh produce. In my experience, people who view food as a way to express their culture, independence, and love are the ones who eat the best and are most invested in their food and therefore their health. That, in my opinion, is beyond class. What is more closely related to class, I believe, is access to “good food.” At the same time, though, this is also largely a matter of changing a communities’ frame of view, which is slowly being done in West Louisville with such community projects as the Shawnee Fresh Stop. Run largely on the energy and volunteer power of a community concerned with increasing health issues, the Fresh Stop is constantly growing and helping to grow that seed of interest in food issues in the community. From what I’ve seen, this any many other community food projects are at heart about asserting the independence of a given group of people and overcoming what may be expected of them or given to them when it comes to food.
(SO... I got a little carried away and had to split my post into two) Continuing on this point about independence, I also believe that lawns are an assertion of one’s independence, after all, “a man’s house is his castle,” right? I’m trying to wrap this up, so I’ll boil down my argument to this. While I understand that Joe’s argument about lawns largely refers to the large ostentatious lawns with constantly rotating flowerbeds that just about any nice area of any town has, I don’t think you can put a cap on the amount of time and money people decide to spend on their giant and fancy lawns without similarly limiting what everyone else does with their lawns. When I was in high school, my parents bought our first family house. Prior to this, we’d lived in condominiums or rental properties where we weren’t able to paint the rooms or alter the lawns in any way. Almost as soon as we moved in, my parents began collecting gardening books, clearing the yard, and picking out trees and plants for the new house, for what was to become our first real garden, all our own. From then on, we’ve collectively spent weeks upon weeks working in the yard, building raised beds out of Austin stone, gating off the berry patch, clipping, weeding, fertilizing, and doing it all over again the next week. We grow flowers, herbs, and vegetables as a labor of love, to assert our ownership, personality, and relatively newfound ability to do so. Although garden upkeep is a regularly large expense that could be cut, it has become too closely linked to our emotional connection to our home. If you argue to limit the overly grand lawns of certain stately houses, which perhaps also represent an emotional connection to a home, how then can you not restrict our constant pouring of resources into our humble yard, which sustains us with the beauty and serenity of hard work in seasons when it does not with produce? Just food for thought. (definitely no pun intended, that’d just be too easy)
ReplyDeleteIt is not hard to see that the People’s Garden, Healthy-in-a-Hurry groceries, Fresh Stops, and other similar efforts have been started with the best of intentions—to bring healthy, fresh, and affordable food to communities who do not have easy access to these goods. When looking at the mission and initial purposes for these projects, I would be incredibly surprised to see any mention of cultural colonization or behavior modification. Yet, when examining the simplified actions of these projects—the imposition of an idea on a community, which was developed from a set of norms or practices outside of that community—one can understand how such claims of cultural colonization or behavior modification can be made. Add in a historical past of race and class issues between the deliverers and receivers of such ideas, and tensions surrounding the legitimacy, validity, and morality of such projects arise.
ReplyDeleteValerie’s story of the start of the People’s Garden demonstrates an example of this clash and of the misunderstandings that can arise when a new idea, loaded with the social connotations from its original community, is brought into a community with a different culture surrounding that idea. While the People’s Garden hit an initial roadblock with criticisms of cultural colonization, its success resulted from the introduction of the important component of choice. Choice to discuss, support, or speak up against the garden in the community meeting—essentially the choice to accept or dismiss this new idea as a community.
Likewise, Healthy-in-a-Hurry groceries and Freshstops are offering consumers the choice to purchase fresh produce without removing any other goods from the market. Options empower people, making projects like these, offerings of innovation rather than imposition of different cultures. Providing explicit choice in such projects means introducing an idea, opening up dialogue, being willing to back away from any ideas that are not accepted, and ultimately offering help, ideas, and knowledge only when they have been further pursued. Fear of being too imposing, especially in the face of tense convergence of perspectives and cultures, should not prevent projects like these from being proposed. Our society is one of constant evolution, and thus it is vital that new ideas be introduced. However, ideas cannot be forced they must be chosen by the affected community. That is what makes projects like these “concerted efforts by a piece of larger community to preserve itself and quality of life.”
Last week at dinner we had a discussion about what it meant to be a FoodWorks intern—an outsider in Louisville. In many ways it is an act of imposing our past, our presumptions, our biases, our knowledge and ourselves on the local food ecosystem that we have entered. While many have welcomed us with open arms (and for that I am very thankful), I have tried to remain aware that my presence, my actions, and my comments are themselves micro acts of cultural colonization. While my intentions to strengthen the local food network in Louisville are to be the most helpful, I have tried in my actions to make room for options and choice. In response to that, I have attempted to form my experience around dialogue rather than planned action. To “hit the ground listening,” as my Middlebury advisor would say, rather than doing, I hope has allowed those around me to take the best of what I know and what I can do, to help themselves improve their own communities.
Well intentioned development programs can overlook the needs of the community, focusing instead on designing programs that deal solely with the perceived desires of a group. This is a common short-coming of international development; however, the same issues translate to domestic development programs. The People’s Garden, Healthy in a Hurry Corner Stores and the Fresh Stops seem to be running into similar dilemmas. These programs were designed in an attempt to address the food disparities present in the underserved communities of the Louisville Metro area; however, these communities seem to reject these attempts. For example, the Shawnee neighborhood backlashed against Valerie’s idea and the corner stores have been faced with difficulty moving fresh produce off their shelves. I would agree that behavioral modification is required in order to address obesity and other health concerns; however, it is important to address communities as equals. The Shawnee People’s Garden blossomed (no pun intended) when Valerie re-approached the issue and listened to the concerns and wishes of the neighborhood. Programs fail when they are perceived as forms of cultural colonization, so perhaps it is time to rethink some of the current Louisville food programs.
ReplyDeleteAfter reading and reflecting on the previous posts, for quite some time, I have a much more encouraging view of the ways in which socioeconomic status does not have to be the determinant for eating healthy local food.
ReplyDeleteI don’t like to be negative about things and as a result, I am always trying to find the answer to the problem but often get discouraged by all of the complications and the seemingly endless spiral of troubles. Our previous conversations about socioeconomic status being the cause of the division between healthy local eating and processed food diets had value, but I wanted to be able to do more than talk about what was becoming a more evident generalization—I wanted to solve it. During our last fifth day (July 9th) we visited the brand new First Choice Value Mart store in the Park Duvalle neighborhood. For many of us, this store was the most exciting thing we have seen in Louisville, as it may succeed in providing healthy food to people who were previously living in a food desert.
We were told that the competition from the new First Choice forced the corner store owners to come back to earth with their bread and milk prices. There is a community drive from the First Choice to support the local community not only through providing affordable food and products, but also to hire their neighbors and further their dreams. To imagine that the corner stores had previously been ripping-off this community purely from the economics of wanting to make more money themselves is so discouraging. Yet, to see that with the encouragement of Metro Louisville to place a grocery store in this area and for a local grocery chain to see value and potential in this neighborhood is a great step forward for the food economy. As Sarah and Nina mentioned change from within and support from the community are two crucial ingredients for the changes that need to occur in the local food system. While some things may not change overnight it is so encouraging to see the First Choice connected with its community and I hope for its success