Ours is not the first generation
(or cluster of generations) to value
homegrown and local produce.
With luck and recognition that
we must communicate to one
another publicly about
what we value--even across political lines,
we can spread our values to others.
Image source: New Hampshire State Library.
Over at Eat The View--the aforementioned online initiative to place a veg garden back on The White House lawn, Roger Doiron recently added a new section to supporter's personal pages. He now asks each of us to "Please tell us something about yourself or your organization and why you're supporting this campaign."
Here's a portion of my answer:
"Just as great arts, music and literature tell us about a culture and its fundamental values, what we put out on our lawns and public spaces tells a lot about who we are right now. In reintroducing veggie plants into our public sphere--from our own yards to The White House lawn, we move crucial issues like food security, nutrition/wellness and environmental concerns top of mind in a potentially transformative way."
I didn't just say that to be nice because Roger was my guinea pig for the first RW&G Profiles in Victory series. And I didn't just say it because I admire his desire to approach public gardens in an openly bipartisan fashion.
I said all that stuff because...well...it's true. At least in my experience...and I think there's even more to the Victory Garden revival than the obvious food/fuel safety and environmental benefits.
Lemme explain...
Transforming Private into Public Spaces
This summer, watching the kids and adults who check out and chat about our front garden and backyard veg bed has reminded me that we humans are hungry to reconnect with our food sources in a tangible manner. I knew this longing existed instinctively, from decades of working/living/playing near local food sources (ranches, home gardens, farms, etc.). But it wasn't until I started to really pay attention to it all again--the powerful connections fostered in the presence of growing, living produce, I mean--that the whole thing became...well...inspiring...to me.
To riff on food scholar Amy Bentley's observation that WWII-era rationing and canning turned the household kitchen into a public space, I now see that the same came be said of Victory Gardens. They quickly transform our yards and patios into points of civic engagement and action.
There are tangible benefits to this, you know. Like safety...and I'm not just talkin' national security, either.
On August 5, most states will observe National Night Out,* a long-running project promoted by law enforcement officials that aims to acquaint neighbors in an effort to reduce crime. The concept is simple: get to know your neighbors and you'll have less crime and a stronger sense of community. And then there's the loads of articles about how lasting friendships promote health and well-being.
But is an annual event and the occasional article enough to goad us into changing our lives?
With the rise urban and suburban gardens--which demand that we go outside where we will very likely encounter our living, breathing neighbors, most nights can be a national night out. By "coming back out on to the porch" to chat and swap seeds and stories about what we're growing/cooking/eating, we create a type of third place that requires us neither to use gas nor buy a bunch of junk in order to connect with others. We can use these spaces to form social networks, vital connections for both our safety and overall quality of life.
Furthermore, if you've ever read Jane Jacobs' Death and Life of Great American Cities (one of my faves!), you might recall her mentioning the unifying role of urban sidewalks. I think suburban gardens offer something similar for suburbanites--a space for creative expression, inclusiveness (provided of course that your neighborhood is even somewhat diverse) and casual interaction featuring our very own place-specific cast of characters. And if your garden is near a sidewalk, then you've got a two-fer.
Not that I've become a suburban apologist (not yet anyway...), but I think that edible landscapes/Victory Gardens/freedom gardens can facilitate cohesiveness and create local character in cookie-cutterville in a uniquely powerful way. I'm not alone on this...the authors of Superbia! (which I purchased on recommendation from Patti) seem to agree, recommending gardens and even neighborhood compost piles as ways to create more sustainable, healthier communities. They also observe:
"...[In] the 1960s the world changed rapidly, and the quality of community suffered. Robert Putnam, author of Bowling Alone, writes, 'It's as though the postwar generations were exposed to some mysterious X-ray that permanently and increasingly rendered them less likely to connect with the community.' The X-ray (or was it the TV-ray?) blanked all age groups. One celebrant at Levittown's 50th anniversary recalled that the adults began to go out to dinner more often in the 1960s, a rare event a decade earlier. The kids, bored by neighborhoods where there was 'nothing to do,' began to inhabit the shopping centers."
Of course, before we can create community compost piles, we have to leave the television (and, ahem, the computer) for a bit in the evening...at least once in awhile...so we can get to know one another again. And, naturally, gardens and the necessary care-taking responsibilities can help us recondition ourselves to go outside. There, even a casual curbside chat about the best herbs for a particular micro-climate (or even a good-natured rivalry over who grows the best cucumbers or makes the best borracho beans) can be a simple-but-valid contribution to our own well-being and that of our community.
As it happens, just two nights ago on my own block, a group of us sat out on the sidewalk eating salsa and chips in the twilight. In our group of kids and adults, there were native Spanish, English and Romanian speakers. The topics ranged from a neighbor's sizeable watermelon crop to how to make to tamales to even whether or not we should ask the neighborhood association to add speed bumps.
Yes, once we have that sense of community flourishing...and we're talking to one another...we can move on to bigger issues together.
Further Afield
(Yes, pun intended!)
Although by strictest definition farms are workplaces and therefore not "third places" per se, they, too, have long served as anchors of community life. You get a taste of it at farmer's markets, of course. That casual interaction with growers can be energizing, uplifting...which is why so many bloggers talk about the experience, I think.
Of course, if you're lucky enough to visit an actual working farm, you can feel even more grounded.
Yesterday, I found myself thinking again about the many schoolchildren who visited my aunt and uncle's combination orchard/farm/bakery/cannery near Houston years ago...how the kids would just light up at seeing how things made their way from the field to the kitchen/cannery to the table. They would leave energized, often carrying samples to nibble upon (if they were really lucky, the Satsumas were in season...mmmm). Similarly, my aunt and uncle would feel a renewed sense of purpose from the interaction. It was great to see, that sense of community blossoming in farmland squeezed between suburban tracts and big box stores.
We Can Do It! Yes, We Can!
We can create these same sorts of "interactive learning laboratories," you know, across the country, in multiple forms. By growing Victory Gardens and visiting farmer's markets and supporting small farms, we can rally around the concept of sustainable food systems and create a groundswell for change. From our yards and patios, we can turn our attention to our schoolyards, businesses and even civic centers and city halls. San Francisco's doing just that, with the help of Slow Food Nation.
And why shouldn't we use gardening to bridge the gulf between private and public? We all know that we need to break down barriers, whatever their origin, and cultivate community. With Victory Gardening (its history and inherent emphasis on civic duty and localness), we've got a li'l toolkit to do that. A few vegetable plants and a willingness to engage with others, to teach...to learn from the process...that's all it takes to get started.
Hmmm...what do you think? Is there something powerful in showing how we grow food in the public arena? Have you experienced anything first-hand that shapes your P.O.V.? Conversely, do you have any concerns about seeing the gardening "politicized," for want of a better term?
* Note that some states, including Texas, will not observe NNO until the fall, when it's cooler.
For Further Exploration:
• Yes, I've discussed some of this before here, but it keeps buzzing in my head. And I've written about Robert Putnam (Bowling Alone) myself elsewhere.
• Don't forget: No Farms=No Food...to which I'd add No Local Food=A Weaker Community. Here are Seven Ways to Save Farmland!
• I mentioned my aunt and uncle's farm last week, too...if you missed it.
• Recommended reading:
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