the foundation of the perfect food system needs love and friendship
About me post from 2020.
I’m a PhD student doing research in Japan on alternative food networks and gender but “greater: this is my dream”: I’m on the quest to design food (eco)systems that uphold the dignity and respect of all beings involved.
I spend a lot of time, a lot! identifying injustices and flaws in our current food system, but it’s also been fueling my imagination for what is possible when we think about building an alternative system. Recently, I read an article by a farmer who eloquently articulated the collective loss that farmers are burdened with when it comes to farmers’ markets. It reminded me about the summer I spent working 2 farmers’ markets where every weekend a group of 10 of us loaded, unloaded, and reloaded towers of white crates filled with stone fruit all over southern California. On the “front of house” end, we had a beautiful cornucopia of colors and a sweet aroma that filled the air as people flocked to eat the many samples we endlessly cut. Something I observed from the consumer end was that me saying “don’t panic, it’s organic!” was all they wanted to hear regarding the 10+ varieties of stone fruit we carried. It felt a little disappointing as I and others were open to sharing more knowledge about the fruit, who grew it, where it was grown, etc.
On the producer/vendor side, I had fun building friendships and bantering with the other farmers/vendors at the farmers markets. However, the teasing and laughs masked the exhaustion and almost hopeless feeling that this was the only way to make a viable livelihood outside of the more conventional system where farmers are bound by contracts with large scale chain grocery stores. Collectively speaking, it doesn’t make much sense for individual farmers to foot the expenses of driving, setting up, tearing down, selling, throwing away food loss and spending thousands of dollars each month to distribute their produce. It feeds into the individualistic notion that you are along in the fight to succeed because we believe its the only way to survive… it’s what keeps capitalism thriving.
But does that have to be the only existing reality? What if we expanded beyond the individual? What would it take to build a brick and mortar or a communal space founded by farmers and centered on the farmer?
Living in Japan has opened my eyes to different possibilities as many structures are already built with a collective mindset. In Japan, there’s regional investment towards infrastructure building with their roadside stations and direct markets. It takes the farmers market concept and eliminates the loss and burden that I previously mentioned by allowing any farmer, hobby farmer, kitchen gardener to come and unload their produce to be sold and bought by anyone. You lose the people connection that some people yearn for at the farmer’s markets, but it serves as a convenient access point for both consumers and producers. Instead, there are signs that depict the producer’s name and sometimes their picture is there as well! The women farmers I interviewed rely on graphic designs to boost their marketing to stand out at these direct markets. The Japan model seems like it would be the solution to the problem I stated above… so why doesn’t it exist everywhere?!
Well for one, understanding context is critical. Roadside stations and direct markets are typical to Japan’s rural areas where populations are shrinking and aging. As people age, they will eat less, consume less, and cook less. The role of the farmer as we currently see it will diminish and head towards extinction. In urban settings of Japan, the questions point to who is going to buy and cook with fresh fruits and vegetables? Many big box grocery stores have shrinking fresh produce sections and growing prepared food sections.
We all must eat and drink every day. But who has the time to buy, cook, and feed each other?
There’s studies that say that people in lower income brackets spend more money on food outside the home than inside. Working multiple jobs means you spend that much more time in transit from one place to another and by the time you get home and realize there are multiple hungry mouths to feed… it makes sense to order, stop by the drive thru, or eat out. Here, individual consumers are left to struggle on their own- their struggles are siloed similar to the farmers selling at farmers’ markets. In both situations, and within the greater capitalist system, food is treated as a commodity.
What is a commodity?: it’s a good or material that can be bought and sold freely as an article of commerce.
In the above examples, food- is a good or item we sell, buy, consume through an economic transaction. That transaction can hold a variety of both positive and negative externalities: food coming from industrialized agriculture is polluting environments and destroying rural livelihoods in places we’ve never been to. Positive externality could be the satisfaction and positive health benefits we have from interacting and socializing with the farmers/vendors at the farmers markets.
While the farmers markets serves as a tangible means to economically support the farmer, what if we didn’t treat food as just a commodity but saw it as the medium through which nourishment and joy could be abundantly shared.
Okay that sounds abstract, but our relationship to food is complicated. It holds so many meanings.
We use food for celebration and ceremonial traditions. People explore love and relationships over food. Food comforts us in times of pain, sickness, and struggle. Sometimes food is seen as just fuel/input to curb your hunger so you can keep working- although if this were really the case then why hasn’t the industry for liquid iv bags skyrocketed? This is why I think food rooted in joy and nourishment holds potential for the greatest number of beings and therefore there is room for vast transformations in designing or reclaiming practices where food can be the center of sustainable resource management.
This is just a hypothetical or a fun thought exercise I go through in imagining what that design could look like. As of Jan 10, 2020 (first full moon of Gregorian calendar and last one of the lunar calendar) these are some brainstormed ideas.
A community space that feels welcoming to anyone where interactions can be had with people who are passionate about what they are doing and eager to share their knowledge with you. I’m using Japan as an example but imagine the ease and convenience of conbini (convenience stores) (theres no air of exclusivity or bouginess because it is literally everyone’s giant refrigerator/pantry. So combine with the friendly conversations and insights you receive from your favorite wholefoods cheese monger~ this is the kind of ambiance I’m imagining. (side note: Recently in Japan, there’s a courageous Osaka 7-11 store manager who is fighting against the strict rules of the corporation as he makes humane adjustments (closing on Japan’s biggest holiday or not being open 24 hours). We need more people like him in this world.)
A space that offers infrastructure for small scale producers and sustainable ag practitioners to share their harvests and where various eateries/pop ups/restaurants/canteens can feed and heal you (the trend of markets with a wide variety of food stands is way more satisfying than the 50 pg cheesecake factory menu), and co-learning and teaching spaces. I’m not sure that the concept of a full-time job makes sense for the future but perhaps automation can “hopefully” give people the inevitable push to find different passions and pursue side hustles- Maybe it could be the chance for a re-emergence of teachers and creators. The space should be functional: maybe its 10 people get together and meal-prep for their entire week; meal-prep where you don’t have to eat the same thing for the whole week! Sustainable resource management has to be done on a larger scale than just individuals going zero waste. We need to be building infrastructure and setting up policy to support systems design. I want a space where food is the vessel that holds stories, memories, and joy. People who were blessed to grow up with kitchens where there was constant action and lively movements could relate to such feelings.
This sounds pretty idealistic and I’ve seen similar models but they are often only catered to mostly the “glamping class[1]”… But I believe that with the right team of people to reimagine something different, commitments from different stakeholders, and a huge influx of capital, it doesn’t seem like such a far-off dream. What small thing can I start with that helps build towards such a greater vision?
Being a grad student provides the opportunity to trial and error and meet different people doing similar things. I’ve been hosting weekly dinners after our graduate seminars using produce from the farm I used to live at: it’s a fun way to bond and get to know one another but logistically speaking it’s not the most self-sustaining. For example, I’ve never been able to find a replacement when I’m too busy… is that poor leadership on my end? Maybe. but also it could mean that it’s not a shared priority per se even though every time I’ve hosted there are people who come and join.
Last week, I had the pleasure of visiting a group of alternative farmers, some of who were active in the student protest movement in the 1960s. Their activism catalyzed their decision to choose farming as a medium to “walk the walk”. In other words, organic farming was an evolvement of their freedom of expression since the student uprise of the 1960s served as a platform raise their voice and speak their minds. The connections and friendships that developed during that time were critical for the foundations of Japan’s alternative food movement known as teikei. It became a natural fit for woke producers and consumers to come together to support one another to share food that was grown with love, care, and strong values. While the teikei model continues to decline and face possible extinction, I continue to be amazed by the friendships and close connections people share and support systems that they are building with one another. Maybe that’s what’s missing nowadays- deep connection and friendship.
I know I have a lot of ideas all the time but nothing will come of it or last without love and friendship. I don’t know if I’m currently doing what I’m supposed to be doing- but I am grateful for the many different people I have come to meet along this journey. I hope to continue deepening my friendships and love with the people that care about where our food comes from and how we share it with one another.
