Out to Lunch: How to Support Your Community in Less than a Day
Corry Bregendahl, North Central Regional Center for Rural Development
If you live anywhere near vast and undulating fields of corn in the Midwest, you probably know a thing or two about agriculture. But do you know where your last meal came from before it appeared on your fork? Do you know who produced it and under what conditions, where it was processed, who processed it, what they put into the food, how and how long it was transported, who profited and how much they profited? If you’re like most people, you don’t have a clue—literally—and wouldn’t even hazard a guess. Yet these are key components of a food system that sustains us every day. Why don’t we know the answers to these questions? What can we do about it?
The reason we don’t have any answers is because we are too far removed—geographically, sociopolitically, psychologically, and culturally—from the source of food production and processing. Some of us are even too far removed from centers of food distribution (do you live in a food desert?) and food preparation (how often do you eat out?). Our current food system is riddled with such a high degree of complexity and obscurity about who produces what, where, and how, that we don’t even know what we’re feeding our families anymore, let alone how it’s affecting our communities—a regrettable but unquestionable hallmark of modern American food culture.
Here’s what we can do about it: It is our responsibility as community development practitioners to understand how food systems operate, to learn how these systems impact our communities, and to consider the impact alternatives might have on our communities. In this article, I will touch briefly on aspects of all three by contextualizing results from a 2005 study of multi-producer Community Supported Agriculture in Iowa conducted by the North Central Regional Center for Rural Development. I will conclude with ways community development practitioners can use this new knowledge about agricultural alternatives to increase economic development opportunities for their communities. Reflecting on the research is part of our mutual responsibility to share what we learn in order to engage groups and citizens in conversations that lead to joint strategies supporting community health and well-being.
To start out, consider Wendell Berry’s oft-cited proclamation, “Eating is an agricultural act” within the context of community development. Not only is eating an agricultural act, but it is also an act of community development—or at least it can be. When you’re hungry for lunch, what do you eat? If you choose to order a burger and beverage, consider the impact of your decision on the community; “community-proof” your decision, if you will. That is, consider how spending $7 for lunch on food produced and processed outside your community contributes to or detracts from local human health (both your own and your community’s), culture, livable wages, economic development opportunities, social ties, education, the environment, and youth retention. What if you spent those seven dollars on a locally produced and/or processed sandwich and beverage? While you might have difficulty calculating exact economic multipliers for your community, you probably know with reasonable certainty that your community will be better off if you choose to eat the locally produced or processed meal—barring excessive use of chemical inputs or worker exploitation, for example. Yet because the food is locally produced, you’re presumably bound to know if any of these things are indeed occurring because of the geo-social advantage of close physical proximity. By buying local, you might know better who produces and processes your food, the practices they use, and where your food dollar is going—and to whom.
And contrary to popular belief, buying local doesn’t have to be expensive. Take Rudy’s Taco in Waterloo, Iowa, for example, where a local beef burger sells for $4.75. That’s certainly in line with average national burger prices. In May, 2006, my family ordered and received half a beef, paying an average of $2.69 per pound for carcass weight, including custom processing. The beef was choice grade from a certified organic cow raised on a crop and livestock farm in southwest Iowa. The meat was processed in Des Moines and delivered within 15 miles of my home—the same distance I drive to the grocery store. For the reader who buys beef, you may know what a deal this is—especially since the beef is certified organic. In fact, I feel a little guilty about paying so little for something so good, especially given the average retail price of choice-grade, conventionally produced beef was $3.95 per pound in May, 2006. According to the National Cattlemen’s Beef Association (Melusky, 2006), organic beef retails for about 46 percent more than conventional beef, which tells me I should be paying $5.77 per pound. Yet for me, it’s not so much about the price (a luxury not all can afford) but rather the view I get to see through the food system window: unlike conventional beef (which may or may not be grown and processed in Iowa), I know with certainty that the local beef I am buying is produced and processed in Iowa and was raised in ways that conserve the Iowa landscape.
While I have found a source of local beef below conventional and organic market prices, this is not always the case. In 2005, I paid $6.66 per pound for a quarter of pasture-raised beef. Yet within reason, I am willing to pay a higher price because I’m convinced the system that provides us with cheap food we’ve come to expect is not ultimately sustainable in terms of its effect on the rural landscape. I suspect the higher price we pay for local food is really no more (and might even be less) than the hidden and not-so-hidden price we pay for consuming food generated by the current industrialized food complex. What if you had the opportunity to weigh the environmental, financial, cultural and social costs and benefits associated with each morsel of food you put in your mouth in terms of the impact it has on your community?
(continued) |
