OUR INTENTIONAL COMMUNITY AND EVOLUTION OF OUR FOOD PANTRY
Why is my neighborhood swimming in free, high-quality food when more children than ever are going hungry and people around the country are waiting for hours in food-bank lines that are miles long?
What does our intentional neighborhood community have to do with it?
I live in an old blue collar neighborhood in a big city. Forty-two years ago Jack and Diane moved here, spreading the word that this part of the city had big trees and old craftsman-style houses that even underpaid teachers, artists, and musicians could afford. As the years went by, many like-minded people joined them, creating the camaraderie of a small-town in the heart of a culturally-rich big city. Many of the first ”settlers” were people who years before had formed relationships while engaged in grass-roots social justice work in the US and south of the border. When I encountered them, I glimpsed a vision of something precious and rare that I found impossible to resist. It was several years before I was able to make all the changes that finally allowed me to move here. Like everyone else, I have an exciting story about connecting with the group, finding just the right house, and overcoming many obstacles. It wasn't easy, and anyone who was not determined gave up when they faced the realities of living in an old house in a run-down neighborhood with a questionable reputation where gunshots echoed at night. I knew a couple who quit looking when they couldn't find a house that had large closets, but by the time I was able to move in, 22 years ago, I would have gladly lived in a tent!
We came together with the goal of living simply, in accordance with our values. Some of us had grown up in tight-knit religious communities. Many of us had first-hand experience in Latin America where social groups were more interdependent. We were not satisfied with the consumer culture or the conventional American lifestyle, and we were ready to take a chance on living differently. We consciously made an effort to stabilize conditions by settling in an area of a few square blocks and working for the good of all. One sign that our efforts succeeded is that we are now being gentrified! Alas!
This became our intentional neighborhood community—our “Chosen Family.” An important part of the glue holding us together over the years has been our common history of working for peace and social justice. Some of my neighbors worked in the Sanctuary Movement in the 80s, and even spent time in prison when they were caught. One traveled to Nicaragua with Witness for Peace. Some of our neighbors are lawyers working to win asylum for refugees who face persecution in their home countries. Some of us still work with the Interfaith Welcome Coalition to provide person to person assistance to refugees who come over our southern border with everything they own in a grocery bag. One woman is co-founder of Friends Peace Team, which focuses on regions of the world where there has been genocide, bringing effective tools for healing trauma and peaceful conflict resolution. Some worked with CRISPAZ (Christians for Peace in El Salvador.) Our retired religion teacher is now our Democratic Precinct Captain. For many years one of our members was lead organizer for Walk Against Genocide. One of our “satellite” members (like-minded but living outside our neighborhood) risked her life in Mississippi during Freedom Summer registering people to vote. Her partner has taught African drumming at the Carver Cultural Arts Center for 20 + years and is active in the Black Lives Matter Movement. Me? I write and perform songs in support of various groups working for peace and social justice in San Antonio, and for five years I coordinated a music teaching program at Center for Refugee Services which serves refugees from Asia, Africa, and the Middle East. When you're out to make the world a better place you never run out of things to do.
When our kids were small, we'd all walk together singing freedom songs in the annual Martin Luther King, Jr. March. Some people refer to us as “Old Hippies.” Sometimes we are called “Cultural Creatives.”
Thirty-five years ago, Dee, one of our most active community-builders, started a project to serve food and offer hospitality to homeless families near downtown. This organization, a 501c3, continues today, offering social services along with meals. People from our neighborhood continue to volunteer there.
Some of us cook for them once a week. Our folks have a long history of turning up there at mealtimes to help serve. Jack still tends the organic garden. Others take turns picking up donations of food from Whole Foods, Trader Joe's, caterers, restaurants, and schools, and delivering it in time for the noon meal. Because there is limited storage space for perishables, a lot of their left-over food was ending up in the dumpster. Jack would often rescue some big bags of delicious bread before it was discarded and bring it back to the neighborhood to share. This planted the seed that developed into our neighborhood food pantry. Eventually, Luann made her house the place where the bread would be dropped off. She would send out a list to the neighbors to let us know what had arrived, and we would drop by to “shop.” From that point, it wasn't difficult to imagine how to make a few modifications to expand capacity and access.
Jack had an old refrigerator he wanted to give away. I had a screened-in back porch that could give it a home. Anthony and Robert had the job of picking up food from the businesses that donate to feed the homeless. When Anthony moved to our neighborhood, he was willing to bring food home with him. We already had a community tradition of working together in common cause for the well-being of all, and our years of friendship had built a solid network of trust. Having received enormous benefits from inclusion in this intentional community, we remain motivated to give back everything we can. Having spent our lives organizing to help those less fortunate than ourselves, it's not surprising that we had acquired the network and the skills to help ourselves.
When new food arrives I take pictures of what we have, describe items of special note, and send to the over 120 email addresses on my list. The sound of the gate begins immediately, as people come for the food. When neighbors encounter each other, happy conversations fill my yard. As new people are added to the food email list, we all make new friends. I enjoy making introductions. No one intrudes on my privacy, but I appreciate the opportunity to see my neighbors when I'm working outside. Sometimes we stand around in a group sharing info or discussing issues. Because we have welcomed diversity, we look like a committee meeting of the United Nations. We all benefit from the broad spectrum of viewpoints.
Besides pictures of food, I include announcements in the emails about items people have to give away or sell, apartments for rent or people looking for places to rent, city events of common interest, etc. When appointments for Covid vaccine were difficult to obtain, we helped each other by spreading the word about how to get on a list. We keep aware of people who have needs, and reach out to the neighbors for resources. Whatever we need—plumber, handy-man, appliance repair—someone always comes through with a connection. A couple of times when people on our list were in danger of becoming homeless, we spread the word and solutions were found by making connections.
These days, our pantry continues to evolve. We now have a second refrigerator donated by our neighbors Rachel and Wendell, and a third donated by Isaac's mother. We even were able to upgrade by taking in a bigger fridge donated by Alvaro and Yonhui, and sending our first to a single mother with a teenager who had been doing without one. We have learned to call these refrigerators “FREEDGES.”
Philip eventually took over the Monday, Wednesday, and Friday pick-up and delivery responsibilities from Anthony and Robert. When we received more food than we could use or store, he would devote himself to finding a home for every last loaf of bread! When he left to pastor a church in another city, we sent out a call to our email list, and received enough response from volunteers to be able to continue operating. Val helps break down the weekly responsibilities and organize who is to do what when. Those who regularly contribute at this time include Luigi, Susan K., James, Susan S., Olga, Joy, Claudia, Mandy, Philip, Donna, Phoenix, Sarah, Laurel, Annie, Melinda, Gina and many others. And then there are those anonymous folks who, without being asked or acknowledged, come by to break down boxes and take away the compostables.
In the past, Andrew has brought us fruit he's harvested from neighbors whose trees have grown more than they can handle. Yvonne and Dee have helped us organize and store what arrives. Judit V. connected us with USDA food boxes that held enough food for a family for a week. Leslie brought us an enormous cake from her retirement party. Luigi regularly brought us extra food from a local outreach center. Marty brought us food left from a church event. Luigi spent countless hours perfecting a new screen door for the porch. Carol and Elka brought a big supply of teabags from their church. Joy donated squash from her garden. Stacy and John gave us home-grown artichokes. We've received fresh produce from a community outreach center for environmental sustainability operated by a local college. Kiara brought us strawberry plants from a food-bank farm. Laurel brought us potato eyes that were ready to plant. When Laurel was desperate for milkweed for Monarch butterflies, Justin brought it in. Ruby worked at a school cafeteria, and brought in individually packaged servings of milk and apple slices. As word spreads about what we're doing, we continue to get more offers.
Besides food, we often leave useful household items for anyone who might need them—everything from baby clothes and books to dishware, art supplies, and appliances. We have used the space to collect winter clothes for a refugee center. A row of nails on one wall provides a place for us to hang messages or objects for a particular person. We call them the “Mail Nails.” We use the food pantry to distribute yard signs for political candidates we want to elect—always the ones who share our social justice ideals.
With no preconceived notions of how this would work, we let our guidelines evolve organically. Anyone on the email list can come at any time and take whatever they need or leave what they think others might be able to use. No one needs to make an appointment or check in. I ask folks to send me new email addresses for anyone who could benefit, but not give my address to people who are not on my list. In this way our network expands within a circle of trust. If we have received a lot of a particular food, I encourage people to take as much as they can use so we avoid having to throw away any. If there is a little of something, I ask that people take a little and leave some for others.
It feels like Christmas morning every time the food arrives. It is one of the most joyful times of my week as we celebrate the quantity we have been given. We find surprises that delight us. There is something wonderfully familial and community building about sharing food.
We regularly have the problem of receiving more in donations than we can use. There have been times when we have needed three vehicles to transport the food! Necessity (and panic!) has required that we search out other food pantries in the city. We now have two other pantries we can count on to respond when we are overwhelmed with food. At times, we have far more to give them than we need to keep. Their volunteers say there is a long line by the time they open their doors, and everything we give them is gone in a few hours. The need in the city is enormous.
There was only one lesson we had to learn the hard way. No food can be left outside the fridges overnight. At one point we experienced a population boom of hungry nocturnal rodents, requiring the intervention of a professional extermination service. It was expensive, and some damage was done to the house before we controlled the problem.
I believe we are making a local impact on our national problem of food-waste. I believe we find hope by witnessing the power of our grassroots efforts. Our sense of helplessness is diminished because we are contributing in material ways to the well-being of others. We are constantly expanding this network of community that we will be able to rely on for solutions when new challenges arise. This gives me great comfort at a time when we are all realizing how unpredictable the future can be. In this time of great need, hunger and homelessness, I feel like I am living in a world of abundance.
I can't imagine living without the sense of security I receive from my community in this time of pandemic and political upheaval. Whatever the challenges of the future, I can count on the wisdom and skills of my neighbors to find a way forward.
As I said at the beginning, when the world is falling apart from the top down, we can rebuild it from the bottom up.
WISDOM FROM DEE
We were born dependent. We grew into strength and independence, but now our planet needs us to become interdependent--to use less and share more. This food project is walking in that direction with others.
"We are Quakers and Catholics, Methodists and Episcopalians, Mennonites and Presbyterians and Unitarians, Church of God, Church of Dog, atheists, and pagans on Sunday, but we are a community Monday through Friday."
When someone has a kooky idea they can usually find 3-4 other people who will buy in.
We have raised our kids, we homeschooled them, we watched them march off to college or launch into adult life, we've brought our parents to live near us, we've buried them, we've lived empty nest, we've stayed active in the things we love, i.e. politics, faith, business, and especially neighborhood.
We are living our values. Anyone can live like we do. I say to people, 'You can do this. Just think of the 10 friends who you value and share your life with. Who has the least income? Can you imagine your 10 friends buying houses in that person's neighborhood? That's what it takes to begin. Then begins the hard work of wasting our lives together.