Category: Eating for Ecosystems

Kids need guidance on what to eat, says Walter Bonaise.

 

I’ve never forgotten an observation I read years ago in a memorable book.  Sugar Blues, authored by William Dufty and released in 1975, became well-known as a warning on the dangers of too much of the sweet stuff in our food.   What I’ve never forgotten was Mr. Dufty’s recollection of his childhood when niether he, nor any child he knew, ever made food decisions for themselves.  The adults in their lives laid out basic meals for them three times a day.  No child had money to buy extra snacks or meals.  No child told their parents what to make for dinner.  While there may have been occasional afternoon cookies, adults made the rules.

Today we have different expectations.  Certainly kids expect latitude.  And most of us would agree that some freedom is welcome.  But kids are now making so many food decisions for themselves, that we’ve got a problem.

Human beings come into the world with a genetically-based propensity to choose foods that are sweet, fatty and salty.  It’s built in.  Our attraction to high-calorie sweetness and fats are evolutionary insurance policies to encourage our survival when food is in short supply.  And our attraction to salt is a biological nudge to take in sodium, which is essential to bodily functions right down to the brain signals that allow us to walk, talk and think.

Kids are a little like cave-people, following their ancient brains to high-calorie foods.  If faced with a choice between candy and veggies, most young people won’t choose the healthy option.

I thought about this when I heard a pre-meal blessing from Walter Bonaise.  He’s a Cree elder who had been asked to say a few words before a mid-day meal at the Food Secure Canada annual conference in Edmonton early in November.  What he said rang true.

We adults are doing a disservice to children by giving them too little guidance about food, he said.   We fail to ensure that they eat well, and that they understand the importance and the sacredness of healthy and natural foods, he said.  Mr. Bonaise has strong memories of childhood meals where he grew up in northern Manitoba.  His grandmother led the meals, always reminding the family of the importance of good food,  then blessing it.

He suggests we consider doing the same.

If you’d like to hear more from Walter Bonaise, he is the author of the 2011 book: Listening to Elders, Telling Stories, Sitting in a Circle: an oral history.

Thank you to everyone who has helped UBC Farm survive and thrive.

This post is an appreciation to the many people over the years who have worked to save and develop the big patch of land on the edge of the University of British Columbia known as UBC Farm.

It’s an appreciation to Amy Frye, acting director there, who cheerfully led a one-hour tour this past weekend, showing us the many agricultural projects at the Farm.  It’s a thanks from our group — twelve enthusiastic participants in my UBC Continuing Studies course Sustainable Food: Urban Agriculture to Global Systems, held all day Friday and Saturday, Oct 26 and 27. 

The UBC Farm really is a gem, and losing it would have been tragic.  But that’s what would have happened had it not been for many individuals and community groups over the years who worked to bring it from little more than a marginalized waste dump, to the thriving real-life agricultural laboratory and teaching tool that it is.  Among the Farm scenes that I found most evocative was the rows of crops at the site of the Farmer Training Program, where young people are being assisted to learn the skills required to grow food.  The average age of farmers in B.C. is about 60, and while the good news is that more and more young people are interested in reclaiming farming as a career, they need to learn how.  UBC Farm is one of those places that’s trying to help.

Thank you from myself and my group.  Thank you to everyone who has made UBC Farm (http://ubcfarm.ubc.ca/) a place that is helping make food production more sustainable.

 

Meat is a kind of sacred cow.

Sometimes it seems that the topic of meat is a kind of sacred cow.  Consider this:  When health researchers recommend that consumers eat local, eat more fruits and vegetables, or eat less processed food, most listeners nod and say: “Absolutely. Excellent idea.”  But if researchers recommend that consumers eat less meat, the reaction is less conciliatory, often along the lines of:  “But it’s my personal right to eat what I like,”  or: “Who are you to interfere with my food decisions?”  It’s kind of funny, because food agribusiness has no hesitation interfering with your food decisions — telling you what you should eat (processed and other ‘high value’ foods that are high value for the companies) and what not to bother (plain old good nutritious vegetables that are low-margin for food makers).

Nevertheless, there’s a defensive reaction by consumers to the ‘eat less meat’ message.  That’s why I say meat is a kind of sacred cow.

Why the emotional reaction to meat? Most people don’t want to cut back.  As a friend of mine says:  Eating less meat is a good idea – for somebody else!  But people don’t want to eat fewer potato chips either, so that doesn’t explain it.  I think people are reluctant to have anyone question their intake of meat because it represents progress, status, and achievement.

But, as you’ll read in my book, there’s now overwhelming scientific evidence that we need a new relationship to livestock and to meat.  That we need to produce cows, pigs and chickens more sustainably, and consume animal products in moderation, for the planet and for our health. (newsociety.com/Books/H/High-Steaks)

Meat may be a sacred cow, but attitudes can change.  And they already are. Research in Europe shows that increasing percentages of the population  are calling themselves ‘meat minimizers,’ or flexitarians, or part-time vegetarians.  Even in the United States, meat consumption has decreased by more than 10% in the past five years, according to food commentator Mark Bittman.  (http://markbittman.com/why-are-we-eating-less-meat) The trend is exciting, and could allow us to treasure what is really sacred — the environment and human health.

Hey, I love the farmers’ market, but….

To say this I first need to draw a deep breath, because it sounds like heresy from someone who advocates for more sustainable food systems.  But I’ve recognized a problem caused by farmers’ markets.

What’s not to love about farmers’ markets? They’re neighbourly and ecological, and they feel like part of the solution rather than part of the problem. My husband, Harley Rothstein, who has been thinking about food issues for many years, says they’re a kind of celebration of healthy eating and of community. They help people eat more consciously, and think about where their food comes from. They require citizen-consumers to meet citizen-farmers. They offer variety of a type that is often not available at conventional food retailers. Yellow and red carrots. Purple heritage tomatoes. Twisted and cute-shaped veggies the way they sometimes grow when farmers allow for natural diversity. Our family and friends are all fans. A few years ago, Harley led a singalong as part of the official opening of our neighbourhood farmers’ market, as you can see from the photo.

But here’s the problem. For years, we’ve been patronizing our neighbourhood organic grocery outlet, on 4th Avenue in Kitsilano.  It’s a  small enterprise, owned and run by a husband-and-wife team of recent immigrants who work there 12 months a year and 7 days a week except for a handful of two-day holidays.  Not only are they hard-working, they’re  passionate about providing healthy and sustainable food.  Almost all their food is organic, and they source it locally as much as possible. They have a lot of knowledge about food and how to care for it, to store it properly and keep it fresh and nutritious. They’ve made the financial and personal investment to be there year-round to provide locals with some of the freshest and most beautiful produce I’ve ever seen.  If you ask them which apples are sweetest, they’ll give you an excited tutorial on the many different types and tastes.  These are committed people, and I want to support them.

Last fall, after the farmers’ market season, I was in their store and casually asked how business had been.  Not so good, they grimaced.  Business in summer is down about 30% from the rest of the year, they said. Part of the reason is that people go out of town, and people seem to eat less produce, perhaps because they’re less willing to fuss in the kitchen. But part of the reason is definitely the farmers’ market, they said.  Some of their regular customers cut back on shopping at their store, opting instead for the outdoor market. I was shocked and a little guilty, since I too had spent much of my produce-budget that summer at the market.

All social change — even that we consider advantageous — makes for economic dislocation. Change not only has beneficiaries, but sometimes victims too.  As I have reflected on my local organic grocer, I have come to realize that farmers’ markets are getting business, but that such business is often coming from somewhere else. The stores whose income is declining because of farmers’ markets, may not be the big retailers selling conventional chemical-laden industrial food, but unfortunately may be the kinds of local, organic grocers we’d like to support. They’re the stores whose normal demographic of supporters are the very ones who also choose to go to the market. I suspect the huge discount food stores are doing  fine despite the upsurge of farmers’ markets, while small ecology-conscious retailers may be suffering.

If so, we’ve got a problem.  I’m not suggesting we stop patronizing farmers’ markets, though I have personally decided to limit the food I buy there, and make sure I keep supporting my regular grocer. But our enthusiasm for farmers’ markets should perhaps be tempered with a recognition of their potential downsides.  We’re going to need to talk about this, so comments are very welcome, including if you disagree with me.  All the better if you disagree! Meanwhile, I’m running off to my bricks-and-mortar organic grocer to pick up some broccoli.

Urban agriculture can change the world, if…

When I first heard about ‘urban agriculture,’ and saw that city people were supporting the movement by starting to grow their own food, I was skeptical.  Studying for a Masters in Food Policy at the time, I was reading about the massive worldwide problems in our food systems, and falling asleep at night pondering that:

(1) There’s plenty of food to go around, but still 850 million or more human beings are undernourished or starving.

(2) More than a billion global citizens are too heavy for optimal health.  According to the U.S. Centers for Disease Control, one-third (34.4%) of Americans qualify as obese, and almost one-quarter (24.1%) of Canadians do.[i]

(3) A lot of people subsist mostly on ultra-processed foods containing excessive salts, fats, sugars and chemicals.[ii]

(4) Food systems are owned and controlled by a small number of corporate agribusinesses, and local communities often don’t have much decision-making ability over food production.

We need wholesale transformation of our food systems, I thought. How could people’s growing their own herbs and salads do much more than make us feel good?

Then something happened to change my mind, to make me realize the power of urban agriculture.  My husband and I were traveling, and in London, England noticed a museum exhibit called The Ministry of Food.  We went, and found it breathtaking to discover how Britain fed its 50 million citizens during WWII.  I wrote an earlier blog post about this, so you can read more detail.[iii]

This was Victory Gardens, and much more.  It was government commitment to food sustainability.  It was buy-in from the populace of the idea of feeding yourself.  People dug up every possible square foot of land and planted crops and seeds, especially for nutritious sustenance like potatoes and hearty vegetables. They accepted rationing of imported goods like sugar, or ones that were resource-intensive to produce, like meat and dairy.  This was ‘the home front,’ a part of the war effort to which every person could contribute.  The program fed the population successfully during a long and painful war.  Nor did people become undernourished from the rationing and home production. Medical analyses show that Britons during the war were healthier – with much smaller disparities in physical well-being between rich and poor – than they were previously, or have been since.

Getting your hands in the dirt wasn’t easy.  Nor was it easy to do without luxuries to which people had become accustomed.  But most citizens were onside, because they knew they were at war.  According to eminent historian Tony Judt: “the British proved remarkably tolerant of their deprivations – in part because of a belief that these were, at least, shared fairly across the community.”[iv] But they were at war, while today the imperative is less clear. Yet many believe we are indeed in an undeclared war for the health of the planet and survival of humanity.

The case of the Ministry of Food taught me that urban agriculture can indeed change the world, if…

If it is widespread.  If it is taken seriously.  If it is engaged in by a large percentage of the population.  For those in Vancouver and cities everywhere who saw that before I did, and who have been on the frontlines of urban agriculture, I thank and congratulate you. My niece Christine Boyle is one social activist who has, as shown here with her wheelbarrow!  To get involved in Urban Agriculture, look for your nearest Farmers’ Market societies, other community food projects, and your local ‘transition’ initiative[v] helping communities become resilient in a coming world beyond fossil fuels.


[i] Margaret Shields et al., Adult Obesity Prevalence in Canada and the U.S. Data Brief from National Center for Health Statistics, Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, Atlanta, Georgia. 2011.

[ii] Carlos Monteiro. The Big Issue is Ultra-Processing. World Nutrition, 1(6) 2010.

[iii] Could We Learn From the Ministry of Food? July 8, 2010. eleanorboyle.com/blog/

[iv] Tony Judt, Postwar: A History of Europe Since 1945, NY/London: Penguin. 2005, p. 163.

[v] Transition Network. http://www.transitionnetwork.org/