When we consider “movements”, such as the “Trad Wife Movement”, the “Local Food Movement”, etc., what exactly are we talking about? Most of the conversations about these topics happen through mediated forums rather than meaningful, real engagement within our communities, and so these movements often seem to be more like entertainment channels than effective, real-world forces.
I recently read a quote from Allan Ehrlick, president of the “Halton Region Federation of Agriculture” that went thusly: “Suddenly everyone wants to buy local food, but you can’t grow it in subdivisions.”
While it seems that, within context, he was referring to the federal onslaught against family-owned farmland and the need to preserve it, it struck me that the presumption that “everyone wants to buy local food” might be more accurately constructed as “everyone wants to talk about buying local food”.
I’ve been running a booth at my local farmers’ market for quite some time now, and I can assure the reader that far from “everyone” buys local. We live in an unprecedented era wherein entire regions cannot support themselves nutritionally because the populations of those regions A. do not farm and B. predominantly buy from other sources than their neighborhood farmers.
Let’s say that, for instance, “everyone” in my town decided to “buy local” this weekend. Every booth would be sold out within minutes, the passage of time only being relevant for the sake of receiving funds and handing over goods. The lines would be so long that the streets would be choked with bodies (which itself indicates the absurdity of the lacking infrastructure for local markets and the limitations placed upon them in regards to public commerce).
Despite the ever-increasing availability of information about local food resiliency, sustainable and “regenerative” agriculture, and the importance of eating consciously, local farmers’ markets do not seem to have benefited all that much. Expansion in “awareness” has not necessarily resulted in expansion of markets.
What hurts the most is when you know that your friends and acquaintances know that they ought to be stocking their larders from the provenance that you and other small-scale farmers work so hard to generate and yet fail to “show up”.
It’s an ongoing struggle.
My perception is that Americans fail, in general, to prioritize the #2 item in the hierarchy of human needs and, when they do prioritize it, they fulfill this need as conveniently as possible and not necessarily with the Common Good in mind, i.e. they’re headed to Whole Foods (or Costco, as the case may be) and looking for “Organic” and “Non-GMO” labeling instead of taking real responsibility.
Which is to say, their choices often push dollars out of local economies - out of the hands of their friends, neighbors, and valuable members of the community - and into large conglomerates domiciled elsewhere, whose CEOs may have other primary interests than the ultimate good of their customers.
It is very much the trend to have some working knowledge of the food system these days and to have the appearance of being a conscious consumer in regards to nourishing one’s family, but perhaps the trend would align more with objective moral principles if the consumer viewed himself or herself as a “participant” in community agriculture rather than a “consumer”. In other words “Who is my neighbor?”
Besides being the virtuous means of feeding one’s family, contributing dollars toward local agriculture means that farmers will be there for you when you need them. (I am reminded sharply of the lines at my booth during the beer-virus days (and the sudden drop-off in farmers’ market patronage when grocery store policies became less restrictive and nerve-wracking).) In other words, the complaints we voice about Walmart, chain stores in general, and large banks can be applied to our own lives much of the time when we make decisions that sap the local economy in favor of convenience, preference, and the general placement of our personal gain over that of our neighbors.
As an illustration, local food is not - as is so often claimed - “too expensive”. It reflects - inadequately, in my opinion from hard experience - the labor and overhead inputs of people who are farming at a reasonable scale (i.e. “the human scale”: a historically normal scale, a domestic scale), which requires real responsibility on the part of the farmer. Over-expansion and outsourcing to reduce costs have the eventual results we are all too familiar with. And who doesn’t want to support the incubation and growth of responsibility in one’s community - responsibility for one’s actions, accountability for consequences, real “participation” in the lives of one’s neighbors (which means real, significant human interaction that is impossible both online and at the box store).
Don’t be afraid of relationships, even complex ones - for example, being both a friend and a customer to your local farmer. This is how the heart expands its capacity for justice, charity, patience, and fortitude. Think of the possibilities for the soul to advance in wisdom when conflicts do arise!
I suppose I’ll close with this: don’t settle for the show. Don’t let yourself off easy, because, in the end, life isn’t easy and its hardships can serve to make us better people, better neighbors. At the end of the day, we’re not the center of the universe. We find ourselves only in relation to how we treat others. “Who is my neighbor?” A question that contains its own answer. Strangely enough, taking on the perceived hardship of sourcing as much as your nutrition as possible from local farmers results in your table becoming a center of both ineffable gastronomic delight and of real, authentic culture.
Avec amour,
Ross
