The voice of dissent

I feel compelled to write something out of the usual vein because it has been so much on my mind the last two days. What I'm referring to is the Supreme Court decision that has just bestowed seemingly limitless power on corporations to control the outcomes of political elections, and therefore of legislative decisions.

All the talk on public radio and in the media has gotten me thinking: what, if anything, can we do?

Today I finally realized that all the discussion and declarations about what this ruling means for our country and its citizens is leaving out an important piece: that we ourselves have made these corporations wealthy, and thereby powerful. We have bought the billions of fast food burgers and the zillion cans of Coke and the gas-guzzling vehicles and in so doing have bought bondage in the name of freedom and convenience. WE HAVE DONE IT OURSELVES. This is the bad news, but it is also the good news, because it means that we can un-do it.

Realizing this has led to another enlightening realization about what has been at the heart of everything I do -- everything I write about on this blog, the values I am working to convey to Oliver even at this early stage, the efforts I go to to help people in our community to access good food, the decisions to buy certain things and not to buy others, the great lengths I go to in order to ensure that we are mainly supporting the local farm economy, the ideals I aspire to regarding self-sufficiency -- all this is not because I am a food fanatic, but because I believe in restoring the power of individuals, families, and communities to decide how they will live, and to have that decision be based in the ability to be self-sufficient, independent, dignified, and responsible. The first page of my website states the following: "We believe that total health for people and the environment can be achieved naturally, by gradually but dramatically transforming what we eat and consume, how we think about ourselves and the world, and what we choose to buy. This is an intricate and involved process, with the power to renew our health and our communities, and to sustain the earth." All along I have felt instinctively that these things are deeply connected, but I wasn't sure exactly how. Now I can see that perhaps what we buy and how we buy it, and who we are dependent on for these products, really is part of health and intricately bound up with the effort to eat locally.

It may be too late to change what this ruling means for the next election, or even the elections of the next five or ten years. But we have to start somewhere. The choice is in the hands of each of us. Depending on situation and location, many of us can make the decision to use public transportation, a bike, or carpooling instead of supporting energy corporations. We can choose to buy second-hand, consignment, and at mom-and-pop stores instead of shopping at places like the Gap, Bed Bath & Beyond, and Rite Aid. We can make the decision to mix up a batch of homemade toothpaste and use cloth diapers. The decision to make do with buying fewer goods of higher quality from responsible small companies rather than buying a lot from Wal-mart and Target. The decision to go out of our way to buy local food rather than hopping in line at the grocery store with products that will do nothing but make the food corporations wealthier. The decision to spend a few hours in the kitchen each week rather than rely on the McDonald's drive-thru and the take-out bar at Whole Foods. The decision to find clever ways to reuse and restore everything we can so we can at least put a delay in the cycle of buying and throwing away. The decision to pay attention to our bodies and care for ourselves so we decrease our dependence on expensive medical care. The decision to look reality in the face and stop hiding from the truth about where our food, consumer goods, and services really come from and who they really benefit. The decision to take the time to learn about the alternatives available to us, like fertility awareness, a way of banking locally, or switching to wind power, rather than staying in the same comfortable old routines that relinquish our control to others.

I think in many ways this is about two things: 1) taking some quiet moments to consider what we can do, and 2) learning to give up that brief feeling that finally, we have at last arrived! because of the purchase we just made.

This isn't about being perfect, or about anything close. And it's not about doing all this at once. For me it's about incremental change, within the limits of our family's ability and sanity (which I test constantly). I know that next week, or next month, or next year there will be something else we can do, another way we can decrease our dependence and begin to think more clearly. It happens slowly, but the effects are tremendous, and it starts with just taking a little time for contemplation. We still have the power to say no to the demand that we buy and consume, and for that I am very grateful.

Cuckoo for compost

I am probably the only person who shows up to the farmers' market lugging a granny cart filled with bags of frozen compost...and a Vera Wang gown. Such is the life of a seamstress who longs to be a farmer! Or maybe the urban version of a farmer, and with a bit more time for intellectual pursuits.

Composting is a part of my daily life in a way, even though I don't do the actual work of decomposing (or keeping worms) myself. I can't really remember how long it's been since I started saving up our food scraps, freezing them in plastic bags, and taking them into the Union Square Greenmarket for the Lower East Side Ecology Center's compost drop-off. My freezer would probably remember the exact point when it started working harder...at about the same time that our neighborhood garbage collectors were impressed at our lightened trash load (as much as 14 lbs. less per week!). Once you start, composting is very addictive. Going back to throwing out all that delicious organic matter would be a little like dishing up plates of food every night, then throwing them away -- with hungry children begging right outside your door! Okay, perhaps I'm being a little dramatic, but I have gone through hell and high water to deliver food scraps for the industrious LESEC worms. On one occasion I even persuaded a Union Square sanitation worker to help me fish my bags of designated compost out of a trash can where I had thrown them in despair when I couldn't find the drop-off booth -- only to discover it soon after on the opposite side of the square.

Those of you with compost experiences should weigh in here please! I want your stories of escaping worms and friends' quizzical looks as they see what you're hoarding under the sink. And those of you who haven't tried yet, give it a whirl; look for food scrap drop-offs at your local farmers' market or community garden. It's a small way to make a big difference.

Aren't we getting a little spoiled?

I have been thinking lately about the vegetarian/vegan debate. At the Institute for Integrative Nutrition (where I'm finishing up my certification in holistic health counseling) there are many many vegetarians and a large number of vegans. I completely understand that some people would not want to consume other creatures for ethical, moral, or religious reasons. However, I take issue with the health and environment arguments in favor of veganism (vegetarianism is more moderate and flexible so I'll leave that out for the moment). This past weekend at IIN I was eating my city-farm-girl style lunch in the midst of many vegans. Some had brought their lunches; others were eating take-out from Whole Foods. One girl who stood out in particular (as she sat down she loudly announced that she is vegan) was eating what looked like some kind of pressed tempeh or fake-meat product out of a big plastic package. I looked around at everyone earnestly talking and discussing their various dietetic gyrations and was struck by the overwhelming spoiled-ness of it. Only in America are we so rich that we can turn up our noses at great local farm food and instead buy things like goji berries from South America and over-processed soy (that sickens everyone in the cities where it's produced with its awful odor). Many people like to argue that eating vegan or vegetarian is the way of the future, that everyone should do it because it would make the world a better place. I have to wonder, though, would they also try to apply this standard to poor people living in small villages around the world who rely on a few animals for their milk, eggs, and meat to round out their diets? Would we advise them to switch to soy milk and flavored tempeh? Probably not. Perhaps instead we should take a lesson from these people who are -- in many cases -- enjoying better health than most Americans and using far fewer resources that impact the planet; after all, they are eating local, unpackaged, largely unprocessed foods, and they are conserving and appreciating what they have. Maybe we should consider our local farmers who are struggling to stay afloat and who really need our support, which means buying and eating the products they offer. Small farms need to practice biodiversity (raising both animals and plants) in order to be healthy and avoid the use of chemical pesticides, herbicides, and fertilizers. And they need us -- the local eaters -- to remember that a loaf of homemade sourdough and a roast chicken and an arugula salad are real foods that are precious and that eating them is good for our environment and our local economy. A natural side-effect of eating local, conscientiously-raised animal products will be to save, to conserve, and to cut back, simply because the prices are (rightly) higher, and the quality higher as well, so that we need to consume less to get excellent nourishment. What do you think? I would like to hear from readers on this. In the meantime, please consider checking out your local farmers' market or joining a Community-Supported Agriculture program.

Loaf-al warming?

Am currently very excited over an article a friend just sent me on solar ovens made from cardboard! This design, called the Kyoto Box, is composed simply of two cardboard boxes (one inside the other) with an acrylic cover that lets in solar rays. The box uses black paint and aluminum foil to concentrate the heat, making the temperature inside the box high enough to boil water (to make it safe to drink) or bake bread! The inventor, Jon Bohmer, (who just won the FT Climate Change Challenge), envisions the solar oven being used throughout Africa where people without electricity routinely burn wood and charcoal for fuel.

This is brilliant -- read the article here. Sign me up; I'm ready to buy one for our terrace!

Garbage in the freezer?!

Speaking of freezers, ours is nice and empty at the moment as I returned about a month's worth of (frozen) compost to the Lower East Side Ecology Center drop-off at the Greenmarket on Saturday. We had a big canvas Whole Foods bag filled with things like egg shells, vegetable peelings, etc., all frozen. (I keep all my kitchen scraps in the freezer so there is no rotting and unpleasant odor.) It's very cleansing to dispose of waste in general I guess, but doing it with no accompanying landfill guilt is even better! It always feels SO good to know all this organic matter will be turned into soil for NYC gardens and window boxes.

You will probably be hearing more about compost from me than you really want to over the course of this blog. It's one of my favorite ways of being a little more eco-conscious, and incredibly easy to do, even for us city-dwellers with no backyards or compost bins of our own!