Blog

This past spring I was interning for Lauren Slayton at Breadloaf Bakery (a baked goods stand at the Middlebury Farmer’s market. Kids in Middlebury–go and eat everything she makes, especially the carrot cake cupcakes.) While working with Lauren, I learned about marketing local products and more importantly, about acquiring local ingredients. Lauren attempts to source her ingredients, such as flours, eggs, milk, honey, beans, butter, and veggies, from local farms when possible. I had always considered “organic” labels more important than “local” ones because of health reasons. But it turns out, a lot of local farms are organic anyway and just don’t pay for the certifications. So I began to think more about “local” as a wedge. Lauren is able to source her butter and milk from Monument, where she can avoid the mark-ups at stores. Furthermore, in exchange for her work on Orb Weaver farm, she gets eggs, veggies, and cheese! She also has her own chickens, makes her own vanilla extract, and buys in bulk. She can get grains from Gleason’s and the co-op will often give her wholesale prices on organic coconut and other add-ins. Thus, Lauren is using locality as a wedge between farmers and grocery stores/middlemen. In doing so, Lauren assists farmers by marketing their products at her stand and also benefits from better prices. While this wedge is effective in a place like Middlebury, Vermont, in other areas I think distance would become a problem. The drive between Gleasons, Monument, and the Co-op aren’t too far and thus is only moderately unsustainable. However, in a place where the distance is much larger, people would have to drive very far to effectively use locality as a wedge that separates the farmers and value added products from grocery stores and middlemen. Furthermore, Lauren’s limited menu and specialty products allow for her to use mostly local ingredients. Other establishments could struggle with sourcing all of their needs locally–but maybe that’s just a sacrifice they have to make.

On our fifth day last week we had a lengthy discussion about Ackerman-Leist’s suggestion to promote the return of biosolids back into the food system, focusing in particular upon how realistic this proposal was. If biosolids are to be re-used, I believe the initial change has to come through top-down, legislative action. Our “grossed out” attitude toward human waste is so fixed that I think the only way for biosolids to become part of our food system would be through laws that essentially forced people, perhaps through fines, to accept and adopt this change.

One similar example that comes to mind is Mayor Bloomberg’s recent proposal to make food composting mandatory in New York City. Though the residential composting program will be voluntary at first, predictions have been made that in three to five years composting will be required for all city residents. Residents’ initial reactions to this proposition have been mixed–while some are largely supportive others have declared that they will only begin to compost when it is officially required by city law, citing the smell and inconvenience as reasons they do not want to compost (http://www.nytimes.com/2013/06/17/nyregion/bloombergs-final-recycling-frontier-food-waste.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0).

In the case of biosolid re-use, I would predict a similar, albeit more dramatic, reaction: refusal to comply until mandated by law. Of course legislation is never 100 per cent effective, yet it seems to me that law has the capacity to shift faster than cultural attitudes, especially those related to human waste. As a (quasi) Anthropology major, I would argue that cultural attitudes are even more resistant to change than law.

In our group discussion we also considered the possibility of locating the re-use system within already established treatment plants, adopting the same “out of sight, out of mind” approach our waste system currently employs. Under this strategy, perhaps biosolid re-use could be incorporated into our food system more rapidly. It is possible that if people cannot see the process, they might be less opposed.

As Justin made clear, engaging in revolutionary sustainable behaviors will rarely be easy, though I think a shift in cultural attitudes fueled by legislative action may have the capacity to make these necessary changes possible in the near future.

I also decided to track some of my activities, hoping to see where I could make some changes in my lifestyle. However, I found a lot of the categories that factor into my carbon and nitrogen footprints are things I am not sure I could change.

For instance, I always thought living on a college campus would reduce my carbon footprint. I walked everywhere, ate food that had already been made for me, and was constantly reminded to “be bright and turn off the lights.” Yet it seems to me that going to school across the country only added carbon to the atmosphere. I had never thought about how many hours a year a flew until I took this quiz. Middlebury is not a drive away for a lot of its students. Flights home for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and summer breaks are standards for college students. Furthermore, spring breaks, feb breaks, and other random trips most certainly add to the pot. But what am I to do? I have to go home and eat my dad’s garlic mashed potatoes on Thanksgiving and there is no way I am missing Christmas. Oh and not to mention my swim team’s training trip to Florida after the holidays.

After taking the quiz I discovered that transportation was the primary reason for my Nitrogen footprint being almost double that of the country average. Furthermore, while goods and services and mobility were the highest part of my Carbon footprint, which includes transportation. Thus, I was forced to reconsider how my travel habits impacted the planet. I always thought of myself as using eco friendly transportation. I biked to work every day last summer, I walked to practice practically every day (even though I had a car on campus), and tend to walk places rather than drive. But I didn’t consider flying. While I thought traveling home and abroad contributed to my sense of awareness, I was really contributing to global warming. It is important to realize that even a Carbon conscious school contributes greenhouse gases by admitting non-New Englanders.

College campuses also impact the environment in ways that people may not consider. I thought eating at Proctor was pretty Carbon friendly. This may be somewhat true for meals that include local food, however after thinking about my eating habits at Middlebury I realize I was not sustainable at all. Food is wasted when cooked for a large amount of people. The food is already made, but it is hard to predict what people will eat and how much of it they will consume. I think back of the untouched Friday lunches at Saturday brunches and the same soup served for lunch and dinner. While Middlebury certainly attempted to mitigate food waste, it is nearly impossible. Because of food regulations and safety laws, dining services cannot leave foods out for long and can’t reserve them after a certain time has passed. Furthermore, people tend to take larger portions when large amounts of food are presented at meals. This results in excess food waste and even overeating, which leads to weight gain and also increased carbon footprints (as we learned in Fat City our excess weight results in higher transportation costs and fuel use). Thus, while we love our “free” food at Middlebury, perhaps an a la carte option would decrease waste and excess. This is probably easier for me to say as I am graduated and would not experience what it means to eat on an a la carte meal plan.

I decided to take the “Slavery” quiz during my lunch break at HOPE. It took a little longer than I expected—the survey almost crashed my computer. I guess the Windows 98 operating system we food shelf interns get the privilege of using wasn’t equipped to handle such advanced technology. At one point, in order to let the survey load a bit, I walk away to go throw something out, only to come back and see the question in bold on the screen, “How many times have you paid to have sex?” I glance around, hoping my coworkers didn’t see that pop up, freak out and moved the virtual zipper trying to get to the number zero, no numbers appear and so I frantically skip to the next question. The screen freezes, as it had at every question before. I try to open a new tab but am unable to. I realize that by moving the zipper down (obviously unzipping the zipper) I inadvertently indicated a number over zero. I should note that the intern’s desk at HOPE is located smack dab in the middle of the main room. (Possibly to keep an eye on the intern and make sure they’re actually doing the work they are supposed to be doing?) So the chances of someone walking by at any given time are quite high. The chances of “Kim,” the lone “male” who works at HOPE, walking past are relatively low, but of course he walks by at that very instant the screen freezes. (At the time of my previous post where I noted that the entire staff was female, Kim had been on vacation and I’d only seen a written list of staff names). Not sure what he thought of my lunch break web-surfing activities but I assume he was very perplexed. Or amused. Or disgusted. Who knows.

I decided not to take the carbon calculator test after that. My results on the Slavery test were a bit exaggerated (38 slaves!?), likely due to my accidental response on the sex trafficking question. But also under “what affected my score the most,” I found that none of the items pictured I actually owned. Apparently that ambiguous drawing in the medicine cabinet was bodywash. And under electronics, it said my CD player, DVD player, CDs and DVDs were the most influential. I did not see there was an option to select fewer electronics that the “technophobe” setting—I actually only own 3 electronics that I can think of. I started a Seller account on Amazon a little over a year ago in an attempt to “declutter” my life (and make a little extra cash) and have sold mostly textbooks and electronics–my old iPod, camera, printer, iHome, PC…. I think I’ve made close to $1000.00 by now, so I highly recommend making your own seller account! It’s great having everything consolidated (who needs an iPod AND camera AND cellphone when you have an iPhone?) PLUS by selling my old electronics discount to someone who may not have been able to afford them otherwise, I not only would benefit them but also make myself feel better—less to keep track of, I made some [meager] extra cash, and am doing a good deed. I realized last week when I got a message from the person I sold my PC to that they wanted to return it since the touch pad was faulty—that it’s not actually the money that motivates me to sell electronics on amazon, although that incentive can definitely be used to motivate hoarders to declutter their lives (we have our fair share of those who frequent Retroworks adjacent to the food shelf). It’s the feeling you get from altruism. Even if that means there is no true altruism, in that I’m actually doing good for selfish reasons since it benefits ME by making me feel good (we learned about this in psych classes) I’ll take that over guilting people anyday. Screw carbon calculators and guilting people into doing good. Why use negative feelings to motivate when altruism can do exactly the same thing? I get the idea behind carbon calculators—inflict feelings of guilt that attempt to motivate people to change their lifestyle to reduce their carbon footprint and hope that they’ll then proceed to encourage friends and family to do the same. I jumped right on that bandwagon in high school, starting my school’s environmental club (you’d be surprised how many Environmental Studies majors at Midd did exactly the same thing), idealistic and optimistic that all it would take is spreading awareness to get people to change.  But I’m starting to think that whole approach is misguided.

People won’t change if they simply know they’re doing the ‘unethical,’ un-environmental thing—you have to show them how. Give them incentive. Make their efforts not seem futile. At HOPE I’m struggling every day with this idea, seeing people who are lost, on food stamps and unsure how to get back on the right track. We can’t possibly use the guilting tactic in this case–some people are here because of a difficult upbringing. Many of these people want to work but without a car they can’t get a job, and without a job they can’t pay their bills and get off welfare. It’s a tragic, vicious cycle. I think part of our job here at the food shelf is to try to provide that guidance. Talk with them, not necessarily change their attitude, but provide baby steps and encourage them not to give up hope that things will get better.

The most common and direct way consumers can get access to local foods is either shopping at farmer’s markets or purchasing a CSA. These two options are both expensive and exclusive which can lead to problems of access.

Farmer’s markets are a great tool for increasing the amount of local food for consumers because they are both centralized and plentiful; however, because farmer’s markets are a direct market for farmers, it allows them to set higher prices for their products. Also, because farmer’s markets tend to attract a certain demographic, typically those who are willing to pay a higher price for natural, organic foods, prices tend to be higher than they would be in a standard grocery store. At the moment, it does not seem like farmer’s markets are reaching a wider audience of consumers, particularly the middle and lower income groups, because of both affordability and exclusivity from the existing consumers.

CSAs share a similar trend of a barrier to access; while they provide local food to consumers from farmers directly, they are also only reaching a limited audience. CSAs can be expensive and they require consumers to pay upfront, which can be a limiting factor for some. In addition, CSAs attract consumers who have a certain level of flexibility in the way they eat and are competent cooks because the consumers often do not have a choice in the foods they receive. For many consumers, CSAs are not the right fit because of the commitment and price.

These two models have certainly helped provide a certain amount of local foods to consumers, but also reflect problems of access. One way for local foods to be consumed by more people and for farmers to continue receiving a fair price for their products is for farmers to expand to new markets besides these direct market channels. Other markets such as institutions, restaurants, grocery stores or natural foods stores can be different options for farmers to reach more consumers and also input more local foods into the food system. For example, putting more local foods in schools can get kids excited about local foods, many schools are taking note of the importance of local foods and educating kids on where their food comes from, so schools are making an effort to purchase more local foods. Shifting these buyers to increasing local food in their markets may lead to more access to local foods for consumers.

In the past two weeks, I have been learning about food hubs and how they can act as a facilitator in this process. Often farmers do not have access to these markets, or the infrastructure to carry it out (distribution). That is where food hubs can come in to connect the links, increasing the amount of local food for both farmers to sell, and consumers to buy.

During Sunday’s meeting, we discussed how bringing fresh fruits and vegetables to an impoverished area, like Detroit, isn’t necessarily enough to get the area’s residents to eat these foods. Fellow blog posters have highlighted that this might be the result of access. Local and organic foods are often grown on a smaller-scale and require more labor inputs, resulting in higher costs. Logically, a number of impoverished populations don’t have the financial resources to purchase more expensive food, even if it is available in their area.

However, in working with the Vermont Agency of Agriculture and the various stakeholders of the Farm-to-School and Farm-to-Institution initiatives I realized that in addition to access, education plays a motivating role in establishing the relationships that connect the farm gate to the dinner (or school) plate. The Farm-to-School initiatives across the state work to bring more healthful, local produce and foods into the cafeterias, while also educating the students on what types of vegetables exist and how they are grown, often through lesson plans and the creation of a class garden. This education component is critical to helping kids get excited about eating fruits and vegetables. This excitement will hopefully hold through the lifetime of the child and continue to motivate them to purchase healthier foods instead of more readily accessible processed foods.

In my mind, I see the intersection of access and education in farmer’s markets, food stamps and community kitchens. Increasing the number and quality of farmer’s markets ensures a community’s access to fresh, locally produced food. At farmer’s markets there is an increasing accessibility to healthful foods. Individuals with more substantial incomes can afford the higher sale prices associated with this type of food, but now those who are issued food stamps have a new way to purchase food at farmer’s markets at no additional cost to themselves. Using a government issued debit-like card, card holders can purchase wooden tokens from an ATM-like machine at markets, which can be used to purchase food from market vendors. Debit card holders can similarly use the machines to purchase wooden tokens if a conventional ATM is not available. These machines allow for increased access, but require that card holders be educated that they can use their food stamps at farmer’s markets and what health benefits this can confer. Similarly, community kitchens provide access to healthier and increasingly local foods through the donations of gleaned crops or donated produce. The community kitchen model is quickly replacing food shelter one, as community kitchens seek to educate lower-income families on how and what to eat rather than just providing them with non-perishable foods.

Like the Chinese proverb says “Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime”. Establishing local and regional food access for all does require making the food available locally. However these efforts would go largely underutilized should those located near the new food systems go uneducated about the benefits of consuming such food and the ways in which they can procure it.

Remembering who grows our food seems, to me, the most forgotten aspect of recent conversations on local food. Without farmers, near and far, we would have no food. Though the high prices of good food are often maligned, we could do more to understand why farmers must charge these prices.

Food access for ALL people must be central to discussions of food, and fortunately, these conversations are happening with increasing regularity. But I think that food access for farmers is too quietly discussed. Even organic farmers, even farmers who charge $9 per gallon of raw milk or $5 per pound of tomatoes, have trouble making ends meet. Though it is easy to malign farmers for charging high prices, these prices are not pulled out of the sky. They go towards land, towards labor, towards food, towards family; they go towards the expenses each of us have, all components that we must consider when understanding “cost” in the food system and broader society. We must understand, and then change, this mismatched system where farmers must charge high prices, which cannot be met by all eaters, and still can barely recoup their own costs.

When we ask for cheap food, I think we must be specific about what we are going to sacrifice. Would we prefer food from farmers who don’t pay laborers, or who skirt protecting our water, soil, and sky? Feeding ourselves carries costs: monetary, social, and environmental. Like much of the food discussion, I don’t think there are simple answers to changing these costs. We need system change, everything and all of it at once.

To start understanding these costs, to place ourselves in a way that gives us the right to complain about them, we must ground ourselves in understanding. To start, I think that everyone should grow food. In a backyard garden, or at a farm, try it for just a day in order to understand the work that goes into each seedling. Preferably follow the full cycle through, from germination to harvest, because only then can everything (the labor, the love, and the cost) that goes into each plant be understood. Only then can we complain about paying $5 for a pound of brandywine tomatoes or $4 for a bunch of carrots. Only then we can start thinking about getting those carrots in the hands and mouths of everyone. Farmers included.