Ben Platt the fisherman understands that not unlike the agriculture industry, restrictions and regulations threaten the fishing community. He believes that all stakeholders and experts including fisherman should work together to create fishing regulations. The narrative of their lives and their fishing communities must be heard and considered when making policy. “We (fishermen) spend more time on the ocean than any policy maker, or biologist or manager or policy advocates.” Ben advocates for the community of fishermen who are being replaced by larger commercial fishing boats due to new regulations.

Ben’s story reminded me of Cordova, a small fishing town in Alaska. With only 2239 residents, Cordova is made up of hundreds of fishermen and fish processors. This geographical circumstance creates a unique opportunity for a tight knit community. Recently it is threatened by the changing regulations and policy made by those far removed from fishing communities like Ben’s and Cordova.

A few summer ago, I had the opportunity to intern at the Copper River Watershed project in Cordova. Its mission is to foster the health of the Copper River Watershed salmon-based communities, economies and culture. On certain days of the year the whole community may be found by the docks or on the ski slope for festivals to celebrate anything from salmon or shorebirds to art. These events further bind a community that relies so heavily on their natural environment. Many years ago the community came together fearful that changes in environment and widespread commercial fishing would destroy their community and livelihood. This organization was created to work on sustainable development to assure it cannot be destroyed by any change the community cannot recover from. This was a grassroot effort by the community for the community where everyone had a seat at the table. Heather, our site coordinator often says that community members who oppose policy change or outsiders trying to change their community must “join the board”. They must get involved and start trying to be a part of the decision making instead of only voicing their opposition. But how can members of small communities in rural Alaska for example join the board? How can they get involved with policy being made thousands of miles a way?

So often we hear about the fish population declines, and the ocean temperature rising, though we never hear about communities destroyed by overfishing and large businesses and policy destroying community. I notice this theme of scraping the surface of the truth, and limited understanding is what has created much of the disparity and problems in our food system. Over the last decade or so with new technologies available to a wide range of people all over the world, there is not longer an excuse for misunderstanding. All people and narratives must be considered when making important decisions that have the potential to turn their lives upside down. These fishermen must have an opportunity to be heard. I appreciate the efforts that the why team are making to change the narrative of farmers to assure their voices are heard.

This weeks readings and talks resonated with experiences I had last summer volunteering with a nonprofit called Simply Smiles. I worked on the Cheyenne River Reservation in South Dakota, in a community of around 200 Lakota people. Much of my work was building and preparing raised bed for the growing season. From what I understand about food deserts, this small community on the reservation was the epitome of one. The land is hard as a rock in the sun and becomes clay when wet so growing in the native soil is out of the question. The nearest place to buy food is Walmart, at least an hour and a half’s drive. With no means of growing food and no resources to buy healthy or local, these people who’s traditions are rooted in the earth have lost all connection to their food. They have no choice but to eat the only food they have access to, cheap, greasy, American food.

Before arriving on the reservation I was completely naive, unaware of the realities and the stories of the Lakota people living on the reservation. My experience in Louisville so far has similarly exposed yet another untold story of a population of colored people living in deep poverty in a food dessert.

The “culture grief” that LaDuke spoke of was very evident on the reservation. Before being relocated by the US government, the Lakota people lived in the Black Hills, an abundant sacred area with rich soil and beautiful earth. Their ties and relationships with their ancestors, culture and religion were deeply rooted in the Black Hills. As Michelle, one of our speakers 2 Friday’s ago suggested, it’s important to approach these stories with grief rather than guilt. LaDuke mentioned that her tribe believes that food “comes from our relatives, whether they have wings or fins or roots.” It makes me grieve to imagine a group of people ripped from their homeland, a land that is so woven into their culture and religion.

In many ways the Lakota people were the epitome of “local food,” “back to the land,” and “environmental appreciation” all movements in the headlines today. The government stripped these people of their dignity, culture and self-reliance when they took away what was most important to their livelihood, their land. The Lakota people agree with Shiva that “nature is not out there, we are part of it.” Instead of approaching these people and cultures with an us and them mentality we should be learning from them and aspiring to become stewards of this earth, as their tribes always have been. In order to move forward as a nation we have to accept the stories of our past that include racism and greed. We must open our hearts and let ourselves grieve over our nations mistakes and history. When we are done grieving we must all understand that in order to move forward, we must move forward together.

To me, there is nothing better than a taste of real Vermont maple syrup. It is part of many Vermonters identity, daily lives, and general happiness. In my life, maple syrup has always been directly related to place, a place I proudly call my home. Though, after considering Amy Trubek’s understanding of Terroir, my understanding of the connection between maple syrup and place feels lost, or confused at least.

My first experience with the sugaring process was with a class field trip to Shelburne Farms early in my elementary school years. In the crisp spring air we walked around and learned all about the equipment, the process and the history of sugaring. The best part of course was the taste test at the end. We all had the opportunity to try a few grades as well as samples of fake maple syrup to differentiate them. When I tested the many varieties it made me proud to associate the best, most delicious syrup with Vermont. From an early age, it was clear to me that maple syrup is key part of the identity of the Vermont landscape.

Maple syrup is wild and has literal roots in Vermont earth. Every year it gifts sugar makers with a flow of sap from the heart of the maple tree. The land and  soil are its nutrients, the only factors that can affect the quality and flavors of the thick, golden goodness. I suppose it is just another product in our grocery store that you could compare to farmed beef. Though, beef are often labeled “grass fed”, or “grain fed”, and sometimes even include “pasture raised” to give insight into their living conditions. Clearly the food given to the beef and the environment the animals are raised in affect their flavor and it can’t be any different with maple syrup. So why don’t we differentiate environment and process in maple syrup labeling? Trubek brought up a good point when wondering, “are producers of Vermont maple syrup missing an opportunity to valorize the taste of place more thoroughly, to examine closely the variation in flavors of maple syrup made in the state, and ultimately link the tastes of maple syrup to process and place?” (223)

As I consider maple syrup as it relates to place, my mind immediately flips to fond memories of staring out the window in the morning after a sleepover at my friend Lydia’s house in the mountains of Ripton. In the windowsill tall jars hold her families latest batch of maple syrup. I gaze beyond the jars glowing in the sun, to see a thick forest reminding me of the earth and trees that created this sweet and powerful liquid. Lydia’s property is rich with character with ponds, streams, forests, fields, livestock, and tomato plants. Of course, it always made sense to me that the best maple syrup is born out of the beautiful diverse landscapes of Vermont. Now as I imagine the view from Lydia’s kitchen window I find myself wondering, and wanting to know more about the soil and the earth that lies below the surface.

Trubeks article made me reconsider Vermont culture and our relationship to the earth, something many pride themselves on. Do we lose a piece of Vermont culture when we associate all maple syrup with the same flavors and environment? Vermonters a great amount of state pride, I wonder how we managed to be brainwashed into giving up our unique and varied farming practices and earth to succumb to the generic, uniform food system. Have we lost the strong tie to the land that we pride ourselves on to become simply another farming state?

 

 

 

 

 

This weeks readings reframed “the local food movement,” a phrase we all have been buzzing about since the beginning. Previously I saw the local food movement as simply a movement that encourages eating local. I pictured a simple, healthy food system in which a farmer hands a consumer some produce and that was it. I now understand that to fully grasp what this phrase suggests, my mental picture must zoom out to see the whole picture, of whole communities and their many variables.

The local food movement encompasses local food in addition to local community members, local policy, local farms, the local narrative, and the whole local ecosystem at large. To address the issue of power being in the hands of few, we should focus our energy on the local level and make change from the ground up. For so long we have focused on the economics and politics of large-scale global markets. Ammons suggests, “policy at its best is influenced by and reflects culture change happening at the grassroots level” (7). We must work our way up by starting local and slowly shift our focus to state, federal and eventually global change after succeeding on a small scale.  Today global markets dictate local realities of people and place by controlling “who eats and how our earth fares” (Lappe).

Vandana Shiva takes this concept of the local food movement further and notes, “the hijacking of our food system is the hijacking of our democracy.” In order to create a fair and just food system we must start addresses the issues of people and communities. Individuals, farms, communities and their narrative are the building blocks we can use to create a better food system for all people and place.

Personally, this strategy of focusing on small scale change has not always been the way I approach problems. From a young age we are all taught to think big and to dream of changing the world. For a while fixing large global problems seemed too daunting and too difficult to tackle. I suppose the few who have control of the global market don’t want us thinking we have the power to change policy by starting on a community level. I grew to understand that the work of a few can change the lives of many. Ammons suggests that to address the wanted change of our food system, we must empower Southern women of color to become leaders, as they are the heart of the communities who are the greatest victims of our unjust food system. Although these women are the most removed and powerless in politics and economics, they have the power to drive local policy initiatives and tell the untold narratives of our food system.

Today, we recognize that the local food movement has gone leaps and bounds to reshape popular consciousness, though has not made much traction in politics or economics. Now is the time to refocus our energy on local policy initiatives in order to shake the whole food system and make food justice a global priority.

 

Food is our fuel, our energy. It should be central in our lives as it is among other things, what keeps us alive. Yet we move through our days, eating a meal as if checking a box on a long list of things to do. As humankind has evolved and the accessibility of food has dramatically increased, the value we place on food and the way we treasure it as a society has changed. As Pollan mentioned in his article “In Defense of Food” family dinners and meals have decreased, as people seem to have their own agenda for dinner. Meals use to bring people together, forcing families to slow down and appreciate their food with each other. As humans we have the opportunity to experience food in its flavor, aroma, the way it feels in our mouths, how it looks and even what it sounds like when we take a bite. Cooking and eating are opportunities to use our vast brain space and senses to experience the richness and complexities in our food.

We must try to return to a time when food was important and central in our lives and strengthen the value of food. To take it a step further, we must strengthen the professions within the food system such as farming, food preparation and cooking. In Education in America, a course I took last semester we discussed how in order strengthen our education system as a whole we must strengthen the teaching profession. Similarly, I see this as a solution to one of many pieces of our modern food system. If we begin to treat citizens working in our food system with respect by paying them truly livable wages, there will be a ripple effect in the food chain. By paying more for our food and food services our relationship and appreciation for food will strengthen. “Roughly 3.5 million fast food workers are by far the largest group of minimum wage earners in the United States. The only Americans who consistently earn a lower hourly wage are migrant farm workers” (Schlosser, 6). If we remember that these food workers and farmers are real people who need to make a living, it might help inform our decisions in the grocery store, and veer us away from picking groceries based on a price tag, if we can afford it. It will help us escape the bewilderment we often experience in the supermarket.

Similarly to the symbiotic relationship between bees and beekeepers that McKibben spoke of, we must help those working in our food systems by paying them more, and in turn they will continue to grow, produce and prepare food for us. Schlosser tells us that fast food has become a social American custom. Let’s change that story and change the story of the workers behind the fast food systems in America. We must be willing to invest in our food systems and the lives of our fellow citizens who work so hard to create the food that fuels us.

The overhanging vines that dance around the wooden beams, the vegetable raised beds, the small pond with bass even every nail was thoughtfully chosen and placed. These details are part of an effort to go beyond sustainability to achieve regenerative design at the visitor’s center at Bernheim Arboretum and Research Forest. As we toured around, the words of Claude Stevens, our speaker for the afternoon on Friday echoed in my head and left a deep impression on me. Earlier on he had described how although humans typically think in a linear way, as an ecologist it is important to think cyclically. I find myself reflecting on the way I often see so many elements of my life, in a linear fashion, with a beginning and an end. Claude mentioned the flaws to this linear way of thinking as it allows for missed opportunities to reuse and regenerate especially when trying to problem solve. I love hearing Claude describe nature as a template and a reoccurring example to build off of, replicate and learn from. He believes that humans should think in cycles and look to nature for examples will a humble appreciation for its brilliance. He described to us how nature has proven for millions of years that cycles work best. This way of thinking was applied to designing the building, as every aspect of the structure was chosen meticulously to reflect examples in nature that have proven to work. In addition, the building was designed in anticipation of someday needing to be deconstructed, in order for the materials to be reused to continue the cycle of their natural life. Claude and the other designers and architects know that the life of the wood and other materials do not end when the building is no longer is use.

As I read Michael Pollan’s article “In Defense of Food” I realize that this cyclical thinking that Claude kept alluding to should not only be a way of thinking that ecologist use but also should be the way all humans approach and understand food systems. The life of the food we eat is not linear, as most of us imagine. The life of the food that nourished us does not begin in the grocery store and end in our mouths. Many Americans are very naive in regard to how, where and by who their food was grown and in what conditions. Pollan suggests that, “only when we participate in short food chains are we reminded every week that we are indeed part of a food chain and dependent for our health on its peoples and soils and integrity- on its health” (Pollan, 161).

The deeper understanding that is being called for by both Pollan and Claude cannot typically be achieved in a grocery store. The produce on the shelf of the grocery store does not tell its story, does include information about its life cycle or even often doesn’t specifically where it was grown. It appears as though grocery stores want to keep us consumers in the dark about the food chains we engage in daily. Large agricultural and industrial food companies favor this linear mindset, as it hides the truth about the food that we eat. As Claude suggests nature is the design we must try to replicate. Thus, buying from farmers markets as Pollan suggests is a perfect way to engage with healthy food chains that work with nature instead of trying to manipulate it, as many genetically modified or processed foods do. Our understanding must go further than the grocery store. We must understand the earth, air, water and people that worked together to create this food specifically for the purpose of nourishing our own bodies. The foods that we should be eating are active members in natural cycles on the Earth, not from an industrial factory. Pollan suggests that buying food directly from a farmer, not only “nourishes a food chain organized around values- values like quality and health” (Pollan, 161), but it also assures that the food has taken part in these natural cycles.

I realize that buying locally supports a cyclical farming process that has healthy, positive intentions. Pollan and Claude are ultimately suggesting that we cannot be “just passive consumers of food but cocreators of the system that feeds us” (Pollan, 161). This understanding and engagement can be achieved if we open our eyes and ask questions by holding our food to high, healthy standards. Engaging in the local food movement encourages healthy living, supports agricultural practices that reflect nature and forces us to become aware and a part of the food chains.