Local Adventures: Sufi Park Community Garden

This week’s wish list: A garden of my own

On Tuesday, I visited the Sufi Community Park on North Springer Street. I had a brief tour with Lynn Waters, contributor for the Southern Illinois Sustainability Guide (I just got my first copy, what a fun little store of information!) and local “foodie.” I say that because, like so many of the hardworking individuals who are committed to building a local food system in Southern Illinois, Lynn is somewhat title-less. Besides working with and for the improvement of Sufi Park and various other engagements of the Sufi community here in Carbondale, Lynn works closely with Chuck Paprocki, manager of Dayempur Farm, a local organic farm I have yet to tour (I’m hoping that with Lynn’s help, that will soon change :) To see a fun, short video of the goings-on at Dayempur Farm, as well as further explanation of the importances of buying local, click here). What’s more, lucky Lynn lives quite near Sufi Park. I envy her. Temporarily, I am stuck in Concrete-ville, where the only plants near me are the Christmas cactus and modest, potted herb garden that I perch on the balcony of my C’dale apartment.

Visiting Sufi park and seeing the various garden plots was mesmerizing, and I looked upon their bounty wide-eyed. The only gardening I have ever done (besides my little herb garden, of course) was a sickly, yellowish watermelon that grew accidentally from a stray kitchen scrap that somehow found its way into one of the flower beds in the front yard of my parent’s home. The watermelon, despite my delicate care and diligent supervision, was not very tasty. I do admit, this could have been due to the immature picking, a result of my impatience of wanting to enjoy the fruits of my labor… err, watering. Neither pun intended. I do not count my father’s fruit orchards or sweet corn plots as gardening experience, as usually, the only work I put into them was the harvest. And while walking down an acre’s worth of sweet-corn rows is the most tedious, itchy, and sweaty kind of hard work, it hardly serves as an appropriate lesson of the complete life-cycle or day to day life and personality of a growing plant. So these multi-colored plots in Sufi Park invited me to kneel down, get 
some dirt on my knees and palms, pull apart the reaching, over-flowing green tendrils and learn of such things. I’m so tempted to register for a plot of my own and share it with my greenest friend. I’m hesitant though. For one, I worry that I am a bit late in the game, that my early summer plantings would yield little. I suppose that a novice gardener needs to start small, and modestly. Maybe even with somewhat low expectations. These little qualms are most likely just excuses for not getting my hands dirty, not branching out and trying something new, or, what I’m most hesitant to admit, producing a little weedy and scraggly plant patch that mimics that long-ago accidental watermelon, a patch that will surely be put to shame by the bountiful and beautiful patches I saw when I visited. None of this is to say, however, or imply, that gardening at Sufi Park is an intimidating thing for a first-timer. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. At Sufi Park, it’s easy to garden if you’re inexperienced. Fellow gardeners are friendly and interact with each other frequently. Advice and smiles are easily shared. Sufi Park also includes a small utility shed, complete with various gardening tools like hoes and shovels, a lawnmower, tomato cages, trellises, and garden-hoses. If you show up with seeds or seedlings and work clothes, the rest will be taken care of.

Despite the appeal of the garden plots in Sufi Park, I think that my gardening and planting skills still need further honing before I start off on my own. I suppose for now I will have to settle with the odd-jobs I get to do when I visit local farmers. In a little while, I will be moving just outside of Carbondale, to a lovely home with a…. YARD! Front and back. It’s funny how excited I am about this. But hey, for a college kid, living with the opportunity to feel grass under your toes means you are moving up in the world. Well, at least that’s how I feel, but then again, I store much value in grass. I’ve already planted the bug in my future roommates’ ears  of a butternut squash here, some cilantro there, spinach, and perhaps, if I am feeling nostalgic and a little-bit brave, some sweet-corn and a watermelon or two.



                            

Illinois Local Food, Farms, and Jobs Act

A large motivator for my personal research, as well as a compliment and growing support system for all of the hardworking Carbondale local foodies is the Illinois Food Farm and Jobs Act. This House Bill (3990) was introduced in February 2009 by Representative Julie Hamos (House Agriculture and Conservation Committee). It was amended the following March and April, and then signed in to law August 18, 2009. The bill has yet to have a first birthday.

Primarily, the bill creates a council implemented by the Illinois Department of Agriculture which is labeled a “not-for-profit corporation tasked with facilitating the growth of an Illinois-based local food and farm product economy.” Currently, four, count them FOUR of the thirty-five council members are from Carbondale, Illinois. They include two Southern Illinois University employees; Geography professor Dr. Leslie Duram and University Housing Dining Chef William Connors. Community members include Tom Grant, Carbondale City Council member and local food promoter, and Chuck Paprocki of Dayempur (organic) Farm in Anna, Illinois. The intention and hopes of the bill are to increase the purchase of Illinois food products in state institutions such as prisons and schools.

Before I go any further, can I just say that I am beyond excited for this? I think that such a bill is long, long overdue. I remember riding in the giant corn and bean combine with my dad when I was in elementary school and asking him, “So where does this go? Is this the same corn we buy in the store?”
“No,” my dad answered.
“Why not?”

At that time, I didn’t understand the difference between edible sweet-corn and corn intended for animal feed. Regardless of my childhood naiveté however, even a child is able to reason at a very basic level, and spot a contradiction in supply and demand. I would stare at the rows disappearing into the combine-head, being eaten up rhythmically and endlessly: the supply. My mother would bring dinners packed in coolers to my father and his workers as they stayed in the field late into the autumn nights: the demand. Of course, the matter of a closed-loop food system is not as simple a thing as my child-self thought it was. I am reminded of the Bible verse that states, “When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became an adult, I did away with childish things” (1 Cor. 13.11). Well, maturation has taught me a little more about food-systems, and I understand that the majority of Illinois farm-land (about 75% percent of IL is cropland according to a 2009 USDA IL land use survey) is dedicated to crops such as corn and soybeans, which are not directly consumed in their natural form. Still, basic economic classes have reaffirmed that childhood observation that in Illinois, there is a division between agriculture supply and food demand.

According to the Food Farms and Job Act website, Illinois citizens spend nearly $48 billion in food purchases each year, the majority of which goes to other state or even international economies. This number nearly equals the yearly state budget. (Any Illinois citizen can testify for the budget woes which have wracked our state in recent years.) Illinois still remains a major power-player in the USA agriculture economy, however, an “overdependence” on foreign food sources reflects a “lost opportunity.”

Within the last decade, there has been an increase in awareness of agricultural sustainability, food safety, food security, and the benefits of eating locally. Farmer’s markets in Illinois continue to increase. With the passing of this bill, I see a new gained opportunity. The members of the council have an opportunity to help build the Illinois economy, support small family farms (specifically, specialty farms that are rarely supported by national subsidies), increase awareness of food choices and food purchase implications, and create a healthier dinner-time. The council hopes that eventually, Illinois-grown and packaged food products will be specially labeled in Illinois groceries and markets, so that consumers can choose local foods. What an exciting notion.

Because SIUC is a state institution, this bill directly affects the purchasing units of university dining halls. By 2020, Illinois institutions must purchase 20% of their products from Illinois farmers or producers. Part of my research is intended to help SIUC not only meet, but exceed this goal. SIUC is shooting for 40% local food purchases by 2020, placing our dining hall at the forefront of environmental sustainability in the Midwest, possibly even in the nation. Currently, research funded by the SIU Green Fee is helping to make this lofty goal a reality. To help offset any initial cost inflation in shifting from a national to state product, the bill allows schools to bid 10% higher (on the lowest bid) for food purchases than their budget typically allows. For now, my job is to find potential local producers in Illinois, as well as within a 250 mile radius of SIUC. Eventually, I will be tracking where current food ingredients in the dining hall come from, targeting which ingredients are travelling furthest, and spatially analyzing current purchasing patterns. Hopefully, snapshots of this information will be available soon!

What This Is All About

I am an undergraduate Geography and Environmental Resources major at Southern Illinois University. My research interests include sustainable agriculture, environmental resource management, sustainable development, and local food systems.

A year ago I read Micheal Pollan’s “The Omnivore’s Dilemma.” In an attempt to systematically track the origins of different food items, Pollan traveled to a small, corporatized grain farm in Iowa owned by George Naylor, a confined animal feedlot operation (CAFO) in Kansas, industrialized organic farms in California, and the most unique operation of them all, Joel Salatin’s Polyface Farm near Swoope, Virginia. Through his adventures and research at each location, readers are shown a glimpse into a world often misquoted by supermarket labels and misrepresented in Washington, D.C. What Pollan uncovers is sobering. Readers are alerted to the high levels of petroleum consumption of grain operations, the heavy use of antibiotics and inhumane conditions of CAFOS, and the expensive and unseen energy price tags of organically grown foods that are shipped hundreds, if not thousands, of miles from farm to fork. A question is asked by Pollan, “Is there a better way?” Does there exist a different option for food production in America? Can the mouths of consumers and the wallets of producers be adequately filled without compromising the delicate relationship between animal and plant, and without threatening the health of soil or water systems, or even the general public? Which food production system is healthiest for all involved? Pollan suggests the answer may come from the odd-man out, Joel Salatin, a self-described “Christian-conservative-libertarian-environmentalist-lunatic grass farmer” whose farming methods are well off the beaten—err, country—path (Pollan 125). Salatin is a humble man, but he adamantly believes that his farm can be a model for American farming. And as a farm-girl from the Middle-of-nowhere, Farmbelt, USA; I agree.

I grew up in a flat place. The roads were flat, the creek beds were flat and flooded easily, the pitch-black fields were flat. Growing up, my eyes knew three colors and three crops. In the springtime, the freshly-plowed earth was dark and black, eventually giving way to strips and then vast expanses of green. The corn, soybeans, and bare alfalfa fields would turn brown in the fall. It was an easy and repetitive cycle. It seemed that the entire county, beyond the city-boundaries of the country-seat, farmed. The pick-up trucks around me bore bumper stickers that read, “Farmers Feed America,” “Ethanol, America’s Homeland Security,” and, “Eat Beef: The West Wasn’t Won On Salad.” It was a patriotic place, to be sure.

Because of my rural roots, Pollan’s book hit close to home for me, and I found myself viewing each “case-study” presented with a degree of personal opinion and experience. I understand Naylor’s grain farm and the obscurities and injustices of the corporate American farming system, as implemented by the United State’s Department of Agriculture (USDA) and government subsidies, as well as the small-farmer persona and neo-environmentalist ambitions of Salatin. Finally, I consider myself an environmentalist (an idealistic one at that) who hopes for a more sustainable tomorrow. My inherent farm-girl practicality and environmentalist ambitions often clash, leaving me with indecisive perspectives towards the agricultural system in America.

Pollan called George Naylor's vast expanse of corn and soybean fields a “food desert.” While at first the term seems to be juxtaposed and misplaced, the more I pondered it, the more I realized that I too grew up in an area that was very much a food desert. I thought back on another bumper-sticker from home, “No Famers, No Food.” Well, here were the farmers, but where was the food? The crops my father and our neighbors raised were for animal feed, synthetic products like plastic and high-fructose corn-syrup, or bio-fuels. Even my father’s Black Walnut plantation was for wood production, not to harvest the walnuts. Our refrigerator was full of food-products from chain grocery stores. The only food products my family ate which my father grew were beef products, sweet-corn, and fruit from our orchards. Like Naylor in Iowa who Pollan visited, I was surrounded by food but with nothing to eat.

And then I moved to Southern Illinois, where the agriculture system is closer to Joel Salatin's model rather than the grain operations upstate.

Being in Southern Illinois has given me great exposure to small produce and livestock farms. The climate and rolling hills of the area makes it more conducive to such farms in place of the larger-scale row-crop operations that take up most of the landscape farther north. Because there is such a large population of farmers, gardeners, and consumers supporting local food operations, I sometimes forget that this locavore (a fun, fairly new term I stumbled across) world is a fairly small one, and many people don’t understand the implications of what they purchase and eat. I’m often amazed by two contrasting findings. The first is the vast and diverse amount of people who are adopting this lifestyle of growing your own food, supporting local farmers, simplifying your plate, and eating in coordinance with the seasons. The second is the vast and diverse amount of people who either do not understand the motivation to local food, or those who do not understand the implications.

I remember standing with friends in front of the wall of produce at a local chain grocery store not too long ago, attempting to decide which fruits to buy for our breakfast. One wanted strawberries, the other blackberries. My food conscience cringed. I reminded my friends that the two fruits were local, and could just as easily be bought at a local farmer’s market. The blackberries, in fact, could be picked from any of the wild bushes which grew in the woods beyond our backyards. “Why buy a carton that was shipped from Mexico when you could buy a carton from a local farmer?”

“These aren’t from Mexico,” my friend contradicted, “they’re from Walmart.”

Unfortunately, this is the view many of us have developed concerning food. Our fork is no longer connected to a farm, but rather to a store.

Let’s State The Not So Obvious

First, what is local? Ideally, local food begins in your garden. Many people however, have neither the time nor resources to grow the food needed to support their families. Many have chosen to start small, with herb gardens in their kitchen window-sill or a tomato plant or two in their backyard. Local food next comes from farms in or around your community. Supporting local farmers helps you to narrow your palate according to seasons and decrease the travel-miles and gasoline used to ship your food. Finally, local can extend in your state and regionally. The closer to your home your meal originates, the less energy is needed to ship it and keep it cool. However, just because a product is local, it does not make it sustainable. Ecologically, sustainability refers to the ability for a product or action to endure in its present state repeatedly, remaining diverse and productive without negatively affecting the environment around it. Not all local foods are grown in a sustainable way. Not all organic foods are grown in a sustainable way. Currently, food systems are vast and confusing things which contain multiple variables.

The Main Mission:

My goal this summer and as I continue to research local food and sustainable agriculture at SIUC is to examine the local food systems of Southern Illinois, discovering what is currently available, what direction this food system will take in the future, and who is involved. I will be visiting local farms, markets, CSAs (community supported agriculture), and gardens. I will also be working with University Housing administrators through a SIUC Green-Fund supported project which aims to bring more local food to SIUC Resident Dining.

I am a farm girl returning the farm, trying to learn more about what is on my fork.