31 Ways To Build Vibrant Food Systems Today
Everywhere I look, I see food
We are living in the ashes of a dying food system. Our soils are poisoned by years of toxic sprays and “accidental” environmental disasters, oil spills, etc. Our centralized food production and centralized processing leave us vulnerable in more ways than we can count. It leaves us exposed to acts of nature–or, worse, nefarious intentions.
We have a choice to not keep it this way. If we want food security in our immediate years, we must choose a path of building a new food system.
It was a cold early spring day. My children and I were at a friend's large, modern home in a wealthy suburb. Back yards backed up to each other. Each house offered a stately patio complete with fire pits, grills, outdoor furniture, and space for more. Some yards had fences. Each home was built on about a half acre of land. The back yards faced each other, leaving a wide, grassy strip curving between and among the homes. But these spaces were sectioned off, broken patio umbrellas flapping in the wind like some sort of tattered flag marking territory. The sky was a mix of dismal gray colors as the clouds drifted above us.
Bare feet scampered in and out the back door. We were there to start seeds for a garden bed, together with a group of neighbors.
We all shared the same goal: starting a garden.
As I stood on the back deck, looking out at all this space, I could suddenly see it clearly
Huge nut trees gracing the curves of the land between homes. Below the nut tree canopy fruit trees bore seasonal fruit. Just under that line of trees came the shrubs bursting with berries. With the berries came the birds. They were everywhere chirping their “hellos” and flying from branch to branch. A narrow trail meandered through the trees and shrubs beckoning a moment of peace among the trees. Scattered amongst the trees and shrubs were pollinator flowers inviting the native butterflies, and bees, feeding the many insects upon whom we rely.
In the deep shaded areas, mushroom logs fruited, providing a special treat, a little extra protein while giving the forest the boost it needs to decompose last year’s debris.
Close to the homes, seasonal vegetables grow in small plots. A few wire fences protected the delicacies from the overeager deer, making sure these carefully tended shoots could go to humans, not our Cervidae neighbors.
A small flock of chickens roam casually, pecking up ticks only they can see as they leave their nitrogen-rich manure to feed the plants. A small chicken coop rests between two homes, representing safety for the birds at night and a place for them to lay their eggs.
Then I saw the children playing. Now with a safe place to play outdoors, here they were, running freely, curious about their environment, learning with every observation.
A few milk goats peeked through wire fencing waiting to be milked in the small shed nearby.
Neighbors connect around a fire pit glowing in the softening light. Teens gather safely outside, under the watchful eyes of their parents, neighbors, and a familiar community, but still with enough privacy to form the bonds that last a lifetime. Here, there is ownership of this forest and meadow, a deep belonging. What the community nurtures, nurtures them in return.
The reveries lasted only a few minutes, but I saw it so clearly. From the blank slate of brown grass, oversprayed with glyphosate, sprang the possibility of this whole ecosystem. I could see the change. From the empty yards and silent patios, I could hear the life of different choices. I could see the ways the song birds reacted to the new abundance of nutritious caterpillars, nesting their young in the forked branches of the nut trees. Curious children, again interacting with the world around them. Wildflowers abounded.
My children stomped back onto the patio, bringing me back to the task at hand. They were eager to put a few more seeds in their waiting pots. In a few short weeks, the seedling would go into carefully constructed, controlled raised garden beds. Snug in two yards, not overstepping any bounds, and most certainly adhering to the strict rules of the HOA.
In HOA world, it seems that the most important priority is preserving property values.
But what, dear friends, makes a property valuable?
Is it the sale price 20 years from now when you retire? Or is it the inheritance your children can expect after they bury you? Or maybe it is the possibility of upgrading to a bigger house, a larger lawn that requires even more life-killing glyphosate, and…. What else are you clinging to in “the future” that you could have right now?
What could be more valuable than having real, vibrant food security right here and right now?
And what of preserving our ecosystems for our children and grandchildren? Without native trees and shrubs, we lose the caterpillars. When we lose the caterpillars, we lose our wonderful songbirds who rely on these juicy morsels to feed their young. Without our pollinators, we lose our food, our entire systems collapse. Without children connecting to nature, we lose our land to strip malls, big box stores, and “entertainment.”
We lose our future. We lose our health. We lose our connection to each other and to the world that sustains us.
It does not have to be this way.
The very act of planting a seed, of visioning a new way to be in community, of growing food security right where you are right now–these small acts build new futures. Futures that welcome us all, feed us all, and allow us to live a higher quality of life than we can imagine right now.
Plant some seeds, grow ideas. It’s time to create new neighborhood food systems–ones that we are responsible for, evolve in, that feed so much more than just our bodies.
31 ideas to get you started:
Beginner Level:
Start a garden
Watch other children so those who want to can grow and plant
Learn about growing zones and what grows where you live
Plant a nut tree
Help out at a local farm once per week (or more)
Get a plot at a community garden
Connect with others who are growing gardens
Dedicate 1 shelf in your home to reference books on growing plants
Take a foraging class
Plant an herb garden
Plant native flowers and bushes (replace some of your non-native decorative)
Start a tool share in your neighborhood
Support other gardeners/growers so they can do more
Ready to Expand
Save seeds
Teach children how to plant and grow
Learn to graft a fruit tree
Get some chickens for eggs
Share chicken responsibilities with a neighbor
Change your HOA rules to allow for chickens
Plant 5 nut trees
Grow a garden at a neighbor’s or friend’s house
Start a community garden
For the Ambitious
Get a milk goat
Learn to milk your goat(s)
Raise honey bees
Start a food forest (take a permaculture course first)
Connect with landowners or land stewards and find ways to collaborate
Find out which neighbors grow food
Go gorilla grafting
Learn to harvest acorns and what to do with them
Take a permaculture course
We each have different strengths. We need them all. Just as a forest needs the trees, the shrubs, the meadow flowers, and the invisible mycelia, so too does your community need YOU.
That is your sacred duty. This is why you are here and why you are reading this.
Band together. None of us can do it all. We must trust our interdependence to get tasks done.
We must nurture each other.
Every small act of kindness, every act towards building our greater food system is an act of generosity. It is an act of building life back into our forests, our communities, our villages, and our world. There will always be obstacles. There will always be reasons why “I can’t.” But do not let those win.
We must take these small acts. None are too small or too insignificant to count because they build. They never stand alone.
Begin. Nurture. Expand.