Over the years, I've seen the formation of countless idealistic groups that have a great, undeniable and seemingly impossible goal to reach. These are usually small, dedicated groups of like-minded people who feel that with collective effort their goal is attainable regardless of the odds or obstacles that stand in the way. This is David versus Goliath and all the other underdogs fighting the system. Along the way though, the internal politics and personalities of organizations tend to become the focus instead of the thing they were originally organized to do. Let me repeat this, because it's important. Organizations tend to shift focus from their organized purpose to the organization itself. This effect is especially pronounced in groups that have commerce woven into their fabric. Internal politics, conflicting directions, megalomania, greed and all of the other negative social dynamics that can develop in any collective of people seem to fester in the most well-meaning organizations, and I believe the passion that brings those people together is ultimately the thing that destroys not only the intent of the goal, but eventually the organization itself. This is a classic example of something's greatest strength also being its greatest weakness.
I bring this up because I have seen as an outsider this effect in full force happen within the Portland Farmer's Market. Writing a commentary like this is actually very hard for me because for almost 3 years, I literally depended on it for my survival, eating a nearly completely local diet. Without the market, this sort of activity would be nearly impossible, especially without a car and living in the middle of a city.
5+ years ago, the market was small enough that you could walk it in the course of 15 minutes. Most of the vendors were very small local farms (some traveling from as far as Corvallis), with only a few mid-size companies representing. I don't know what the fees for vendors was back then, but I can only assume it was reasonable enough that small farms like River Run Farm could afford to participate and still turn a much-deserved profit. Whatever the arrangement was, food was a little expensive, but very affordable.
Fast forward to today, and the Portland Farmer's Market seems wildly successful. And, on the face of it, this seems like a great thing, right? Local agriculture is flourishing! The market is so busy you can hardly walk it! There's not a parking spot within 8 blocks! Well, the truth is that the market is becoming a victim of its own success. It has now expanded to over twice its former size, so even more vendors can participate. Unfortunately, it seems many of the new vendors don't seem to be small farms, but fairly well funded specialty food producers. And, farms that are "collective" -- meaning they seem as though they represent just one farm, but actually represent dozens -- are more populous. So the pioneering spirit of a market where small farms that have no other venues for their produce grows fainter by the year.
Even more disappointing than the diminishing diversity and scarcity of single-source farms is the increase in prices from virtually all vendors. This translates into a different kind of scarcity -- people on no, low or fixed incomes who need a source for food that isn't delivered in a Monsanto company truck or served beneath golden arches. The Farmer's Market has become a parking lot for late model luxury cars instead of a gathering of a diverse community seeking to diminish their ecological footprint and increase their vitality. This gentrification process seems to plague community efforts where anything is sold at a reasonable cost. And, why would farmers who can easily command these prices charge less? People are readily willing and seemingly able to pay it, right? So that's the American way -- buy low and sell high! But, this is really counter to the stated goals of any community market that hopes to provide benefits to the community and not simply pad the pockets of the market owners and mid-size companies that capitalize on the cachet that comes with pretending to be a small farm at the market. Organic Valley, whom I saw at the market last time I was there, is not a small farm, nor even a single farm at all. The person at the booth may have never even touched a real cow in their lives. Whereas 5 years ago, you could speak directly to a majority of people who had that morning dug and washed the carrots you were about to buy. That is a tremendous loss.
My hope is that we can collectively reform markets in a way that allows for true diversity again. Either that, or we call them as they are; not farmer's markets but outdoor super markets, no different than Whole Foods or Trader Joe's.
Some meaningful changes would be for organizations that have funding available to subsidize market participation costs for small, single-source farms that couldn't afford to represent otherwise. There should also be some form of subsidized discount for holders of Oregon Trail or WIC cards. Otherwise, wealthy patrons would simply buy more cheap, great produce that they can already afford at the higher prices.
The truth is that the poor don't seem to have a voice at all in this discussion, and that is by design. Portland has a veneer of Utopian cooperation, but is ultimately a segregated city with minorities and the working poor staying conveniently out of sight in North Portland, Hillsboro and sleeping in alleyways. Even pets are no longer welcome at the market. I can only assume that was because irresponsible owners couldn't carry or control their pets. It's always an easier path to make sweeping changes without regard to their consequences when the net effect is higher income or more customers. An organization like the Portland Farmer's Market, however, should be held to a much higher standard of community responsibility. Like it or not, community includes everyone: people with no cars or homes, people who want to eat well but cannot otherwise afford it and so forth.
As energy becomes more scarce and food production costs start their inexorable rise, this trend promises to continue. And, if left unabated, will lead to a market where only the upper crust can afford to eat food that does not do more harm than good.
--------
The author of this Potlicker editorial is Jason DuMars, musician, writer, artist and activist. He has been an active supporter and promoter of local, seasonal eating, community development and sustainable living. In 2007 he was a leader in the groundbreaking "World Without Oil" alternate reality game and his contributions have been included in school curriculum associated with the project. Jason is usually behind the camera for Potlicker posts.
No comments:
Post a Comment