hope despite it all

Last night I went to a small potluck with a couple neighbors I barely know. We share a passion for sustainable food. What better way to spend a Friday evening than talking about real food possibilities!

Our conversation reminded me of a post I wrote a couple years back for a different blog. I figured it was worth re-posting on Dissident Potato with just a couple edits to match the passage of time.

Hope despite it all …

Sometimes when I get bummed out about our (i.e. humanity’s) future — when I think about climate change, the resources we waste, the amount of starvation at home and abroad — I look at empty spaces and I think, plant life could be growing there.

Lawns and boulevards that are currently treated with chemicals and only tread on by riding mowers could easily grow wild grasses and flowers and someday even be a home to plants that produce healthy vegetables.

Those same lawns could host gardens. As could our rooftops.

Parks could have more trees.

Those same parks could set aside space for community gardens. Classes could be taught there, so kids of all ages could learn where food comes from and then grow it … having fun as they get soil under their fingernails.

Neighborhoods could maintain tool libraries. Perhaps those libraries could be hosted by the wise, retired senior or stay at home parent who knows how to save seeds, how to preserve food, and how to keep up on neighbors so they don’t hold on to those tools from the tool library for too long.

And the neighborhood could share produce grown in their gardens with that wise, retired senior and stay at home parent for the service they provide to their community … maintaining the library and teaching others how to save seed and preserve food.

Neighborhoods could start chicken-coops. While I don’t currently have the time and know-how to keep chickens, I would gladly regularly chip in cash and and take responsibility for a couple feeding times each week. I think other neighbors would as well. Fresh, free-range eggs … so much better and humane than factory-farmed chickens!

But something seems terribly amiss.

Our communities do not naturally … or even legally … promote such healthy behavior. In fact, such things are left to passive volunteerism keeping them from going to scale.

Our economy, our tax system, the way we do (and do not) relate to our neighbors, and so much more actually discourages the hero volunteers from taking such healthy behaviors to scale.

And then I feel overwhelmed again. I get bummed out. I throw up my hands and think, “I garden. Perhaps that’s all I can do.”

And then I comb through my half-used seed packets, and I think of friends and near-strangers who might like a few seeds to try this gardening thing out. I could encourage them.

I think of potlucks at work and how my colleagues love my meals made from homegrown veggies.

I think specifically about one of my colleagues who has a dehydrator. He’s gladly dried my excess tomatoes if he can keep half of them. Sure thing! Dried tomatoes are great on homemade pizza and in pasta salads. And I don’t yet have a dehydrator, so it’s a win-win. We can both have dried tomatoes on our pizzas and in our pasta dishes.

I am reminded of the squash in my basement that might go to waste in a month or two. I should have given a couple squash to some of my friends who don’t always have enough food on their table.

I don’t see some of those friends enough. Perhaps we should visit over a meal.

I start to think about more win-wins. And about how people like to win.

… About how people like to belong.

… About how parents want a better future for their children.

… About how foodies love to try new and tasty and healthy foods.

… About how flowers make people smile.

… About how so many people have never seem a white squash, a purple carrot, or a black tomato. And how they would giggle once they did. And how they would love the feel of giggling over food.