The systems by which communities feed themselves are so complex that it’s a challenge even to define the players and steps involved, much less to make them safer, healthier, more people-centered and more sustainable. But at “Rural and Urban Food Sovereignty: Black Communities Taking the Lead,” hosted Thursday evening by the George Washington University’s Global Food Institute (GFI), the Institute for Socioeconomic Opportunity and the Columbian College of Arts and Sciences’ Department of History, experts embedded in those systems discussed paths forward, reasons for hope and how investing in the most affected communities uplifts everyone else, too.
Tambra Raye Stevenson, founder and CEO of food empowerment, education and advocacy organization WANDA, introduced the panel by discussing her own history. As a fifth-generation Oklahoman, she is aware of the legacies of historically Black farming communities like Boley, Okla. Stevenson lives now in Ward 8 in Washington, D.C., one of the city’s least-resourced areas. In both locations, she’s seen how top-down policies built by and for those with the most hurt the communities who have the least.
Fortunately, Stevenson said, “Policy is not set in stone. It can be reimagined, and it must be reimagined.”
The panel, led by GFI Assistant Professor Mya O. Price, comprised four leaders from the worlds of policy, advocacy, education and community organizing: Dion Dawson, founder and “chief dreamer” of Dion’s Chicago Dream; Cicely Garrett, M.P.P. ’05, co-executive director of the National Black Food and Justice Alliance (NBFJA); Qiana Mickie, inaugural executive director of the New York City Mayor’s Office of Urban Agriculture; and Ashley C. Smith, agricultural sociologist and executive director of Black Soil KY.
Dawson helped visualize the complexity of the systems involved by asking the audience to close their eyes, envision a diagram of the United States’ food supply system, and raise as many fingers as they saw steps in the chain: farmers, retailers, consumers, middlemen and whoever else. The confusion of hands with anywhere from three to 10 fingers raised illustrated one of the system’s main problems, he said—that there’s no agreed-upon definition of what the food supply system actually is and who is involved.
Dion’s Chicago Dream deals with that problem by taking comprehensive, transparent responsibility for a relatively short but crucial link in the chain, he said. The nonprofit fights food insecurity in the Chicago area by managing fresh produce last-mile delivery and logistics—delivering directly to households or stocking lockers and community fridges in food deserts like the South Side neighborhood of Englewood.
“There’s undoubtedly a category of things that we have no say in—not only in our food systems, but just living right now,” he said. “But there’s a whole lot of things that we can change, and every now and again we’re reminded of this collective power that we have.”
Like Dawson, Garrett said she sees the daily psychological impact of these sometimes hostile systems. At NBFJA, a coalition of Black-led organizations across the U.S. that organize together to advance food justice, it’s impossible not to be aware that “people are exhausted.”
But there are concrete steps we can take toward a better future, Garrett said. Foremost among them is expanding U.S. labor law to include farmworkers, who are explicitly excluded from many of the protections set by landmark legislation like the National Labor Relations Act and Fair Labor Standards Act. Additionally, she said, people should be aware of and involved in the need for people-centered updates to the Farm Bill, an omnibus agricultural and food legislation package enacted roughly every five years. Its provisions can affect every stage of American life, from school lunches to senior nutrition programs.
“It shouldn’t even be called the Farm Bill—it should be called the ‘Food, Land and How You Eat Bill,’” Stevenson said. “All of us in here, whether you’ve ever touched soil or not, some part of that Farm Bill touches you.”
Mickie sees those effects far from the places where most of us imagine farming—amid the concrete jungle. As inaugural executive director of the Mayor’s Office of Urban Agriculture, she said she sees her work as illuminating and supporting the “innovation and creativity” with which New Yorkers have figured out how to feed themselves locally and affordably, then spreading those innovations outward.
Mickie said she’s heartened by the growth of community-focused, localized food options like school gardens, though she advised that these need to be created with sustainability and longevity in mind to prevent the burden of maintenance falling on teachers and volunteers.
It’s useful to reframe the way we look at urban spaces, “seeing utilized spaces like school gardens and community gardens and underutilized spaces like rooftops or vacant lots as critical infrastructure,” she said. “Are we looking at them as connecting the dots to the supply chain?”
Smith works in almost the opposite environment from the U.S.’ most populous city, connecting small- and midsize Black-owned farms in rural Kentucky with consumers, partners and funding opportunities. Mutual respect and support between the two populations can open transformative possibilities, she said, since urban communities have most of the money and rural communities have most of the land.
And investing in the people and communities who understand that land stewardship lifts everyone up, she said.
“We can’t have our farmers standing in the food bank or food pantry lines—they have to be fully supported,” she said. “But if you give Black farmers the investment that they need and just step out of the way, trust and believe they’re going to take care of not only themselves, but others.”
