The 21st
century U.S. food production systems are harming us, its citizens, more
than helping us. In the past five years, the terms “locally
grown” and “organic” have become buzzwords for those trying to eat in a
healthier and more environmentally friendly way. But what does “locally
grown”
really mean? Are we all expected to become backyard farmers? It is often
debated whether the economic
and ecological costs of buying locally produced food really outweigh
those of
buying from traditional supermarkets. What is the true price of these
massive
corporate food production methods on our cultures, our wildlife, and our
communities? Philip Ackerman-Leist, author and Green Mountain College professor, suggests we go back to
basics and rebuild our eating habits, and our communities, quite literally from
the ground up.
In his new book, Rebuilding the Foodshed, one
of
the first issues Ackerman-Leist raises is how “local” local really is.
Is it just
about geography? Before you answer that, consider this: where do you
consider “home”?
Why? Is it just because that is where your house is? Probably not. We
humans
tend to feel at home in places where we have made connections; and
Ackerman-Leist is all about connections. When we feel a physical,
emotional
attachment to a town, state, or region, we like to take ownership of it.
This
is where local food appeals to us. Vermont FEED, one of the first
farm-to-school systems and food education programs, focuses on bringing
the food conversation to "the three C's: cafeteria, classroom, and
community." The program reminds Vermonters that there are many benefits
to supporting local agriculture; economically, environmentally, and
nutritionally. As many of us know very well, education is the first step
to change.
It’s
not just
about facts and figures, miles and minutes of travel, gas consumption
and greenhouse
gasses. It is much more personal than that: the feeling of biting into a
fresh,
crisp apple may take you back to apple-picking with your family when you
were
10. Or the smell of melting mozzarella makes you yearn for your mother’s
lasagna. It is a deep cultural and familial connection to what we eat,
how we
eat and prepare it, and how we feel while doing it. Think of Italy, for
example. What is the first image that pops into your mind? For me, it is
fresh
garlic, tomato sauce, and warm home cooking. It is the feeling that I am
missing out on something essential if I do not visit the country, and
try these
things while I am there. Or, to bring it closer to home, think of the
Deep
South. Louisiana gumbo, hand-battered fried chicken, home-grown
strawberry
jams; all are an indispensable part of the local culture. Even Vermont
has maple syrup...and maple candies, maple lemonade, maple cotton
candy...you get the point. As Ackerman-Leist says, it's idea that “we
can never truly experience a place until we
taste a particular fruit, a time-honored dish, a unique spirit, any of
which may
be replicated elsewhere but diminishes in authenticity with every mile
it
travels.”
The
current mentality of the United States is that “food can be grown elsewhere.”
But why does it have to be? We have some of the most fertile, arable
land here in the U.S., but it is being targeted for urban development. Instead
of using these vast expanses of beautiful land to help sustain us, we are building
more property that we don’t need, killing wildlife and ecosystems, and utterly
destroying the landscape. Urban development also has its own issues. Have you
ever heard of a food
desert? Neither had I until about this time last year. A food desert
describes an urban or suburban area that has
no access to grocery stores, and instead must rely on convenience marts and
beverage shops for food. Not very healthy, is it? Nor it is affordable: these
neighborhoods are mostly populated by “racially diverse workers so critical to
our food production system,” and yet they are living off wages that do not even
allow them to adequately feed their own families. Take, for example, Birmingham,
Alabama. Yes, a bustling city smack in the middle of one of the most
food-centric cultures in the United States has areas where access to fresh,
nutritious food is nearly impossible. To combat this, a woman named Taylor
Clark began the Urban Food Project to support local food production. It is
difficult to introduce any kind of urban farming in Birmingham, as there is a
cultural bias toward unhealthier food, such as the fried chicken I mentioned
earlier. Additionally, it is an area where poverty is prevalent, and many
cannot afford to buy local produce, or sometimes any produce at all.
But
bringing healthy, sustainably-raised food to markets like these, Clark
admits,
can be slow. Theresa Snow, a graduate of Sterling College, has taken
steps to increase food security in Vermont as well. In 2005, she
co-founded Salvation Farms, a nonprofit
that would absorb and redistribute surplus fruits and vegetables
throughout northern Vermont. She works very closely with the Vermont
Food Bank to increase food security and create community-based solutions
to aid food accessibility.  |
| Courtesy of installitdirect.com |
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| Courtesy of eatcology.com |
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