Borrow, Save, Share: 3 Ways Seeds Can Democratize Our Food System

Originally published on Yes Magazine authored by Neil Thapar.

Just six companies control 63 percent of the commercial seed market. But seed libraries offer us an opportunity to reclaim the seed commons and create our own community food systems.

Seed library

Our food system is broken and needs to be fixed, many say. But it isn’t broken. In fact, I think it’s working exactly how it was intended. The current food system, and the legal rules that govern it, have been built by and for only the largest producers, retailers, and manufacturers. The bigger the better, the logic goes, which is why our food economy is dominated by large, increasingly consolidated, vertically integrated corporations.

An especially consolidated sector of our food system is the seed economy; for example, just six companies control 63 percent of the commercial seed market. Because most of our food starts off as seed, instead of trying to fix a system that isn’t intended to work for the vast majority of people, animals, or the planet, we should try to create our own.

 If we want more equitable access to healthy, affordable food grown locally by small farmers who steward natural resources responsibly, this is exactly what we need to do. The task is tall, but so achievable, especially if we all commit to working together in the right direction. Here are three simple steps we can take to reintroduce democracy back into our seed system and into our neighborhoods.

1. Borrow

If you haven’t been to your local library recently, you might be surprised to find a seed library there. Across the United States, there are about 400 of these community-based seed sharing initiatives, which allow neighbors to share seeds with one another. It basically works like this: You borrow seeds, grow the plant, harvest almost all of the fruit (which you eat!), and save and return some of the seeds back to the library, where others will repeat the process. Seed librarian extraordinaire Rebecca Newburn, cofounder of Richmond Grows Seed Lending Library, says it like this: “It’s like checking out a book, except that you’ve added a chapter when you return it.”

Seed libraries make seeds freely available to its members or the public, relying on reciprocity and a sense of interdependence to ensure that its stock is continually replenished. By treating seeds as a common resource to be stewarded for the public benefit, libraries create what is called the seed commons. The commons reframes our role in relationship to seeds as that of caretakers instead of owners. While owners only have a responsibility to themselves, caretakers have a responsibility to the seeds and to the community that placed them under their care. By bringing seeds into the commons, we have the power to democratize access to, and control over, one of our basic necessities: food.

2. Save

Seed saving is nothing new. If anything, it’s likely one of the oldest continuous human traditions, going back some 10,000 years. Just in the last century or so, we as a society have lost—and been removed from—our connection to seed. In this time, seeds have been transformed from a common resource into a commodity, bought and sold and owned by fewer and fewer companies.

But saving seed is not necessarily simple. That’s why libraries exist as educational resources to help us rediscover the art and skill involved with it. Re-skilling ourselves means that we will be able to provide healthy foods to ourselves and our families, build community resilience in the face of climate change, and rediscover the cultural history and significance attached to the seeds we save.

In practice, it also means growing food for ourselves and our communities. The more food we grow ourselves, the less we rely on a global food system that prioritizes profit over environmental, human, or animal welfare. It also means that we are buying and selling food locally, circulating our dollars in our communities, and generating local wealth. Seed saving is at once an act of resistance and renewal.

3. Share

The success of our new food system relies equally on our independence from the current system as it does on our interdependence on each other. What that simply means is that we should share more and sharemore equitably. We should share both the risk and the reward, the profits and the losses, the efforts and the outcomes. By sharing, we also begin to take part in an alternative economy, one not based on transacting money for goods or services, but on relationships, gift giving, and mutual aid. At a time when dollars in our economy are increasingly scarce and consolidated in the hands of the wealthy few, sharing gives us the means to provide for ourselves.

In particular, sharing seeds is an easy place to start, because seeds by their nature almost beg to be shared. One tomato plant might produce upwards of 500 seeds, which, in theory, could be planted in 500 different gardens the next season. Now, imagine that 100 households grow five crops each to share their seeds. It’s not difficult to picture the multiplying effect community-based seed sharing could have on the total amount of local food production!

Yet no good deed goes unpunished. Right now, seed libraries across the country are struggling to protect their ability to facilitate local sharing. In partnership with others, Sustainable Economies Law Center, where I work, has been leading a campaign to raise public awareness of this struggle and to advocate on behalf of seed sharing organizations. You can learn more about it at our Save Seed Sharing website.

Creating a true bottom-up democracy means that we need to envision democracy not just in our government but in all aspects of our lives. Civic engagement is not just about choosing who to vote for—it’s also about choosing how and where to spend a dollar. Seed libraries offer us an opportunity to become more civically engaged by reintroducing democracy into the food economy, reclaiming the seed commons, and empowering communities to begin creating their own local food systems.

 

Neil Thapar wrote this article for YES! Magazine. Neil is a staff attorney at Sustainable Economies Law Center and leads its Food and Farmland programs. He is passionate about building collective power to recreate healthy, just, and resilient food systems. Follow him on Twitter @NeilThapar.

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Between city and country: domestic workers building food sovereignty

Written by Karen Pomier , Tanya Kerssen

In Latin America and the Caribbean, domestic workers make up 18% of the female labour force. Migrating from rural areas to work in the city, many maintain both rural and urban identities. With strong connections to their family’s farm on one hand, and playing a key role in buying and preparing food in urban households on the other, they occupy a strategic position within food systems. In Bolivia, increasingly well-organised unions of domestic workers are using this space to both empower their members and educate urban consumers about indigenous foods, healthy diets, agroecology, and the importance of supporting the small farm economy.

Photo: SITRAHO-SP

Photo: SITRAHO-SP

Like many countries of the global South, Bolivia has experienced large waves of internal migration in the past few decades – especially from rural farming areas to urban areas such as the capital, La Paz.

They are keenly aware of the need for urban, worker and consumer solidarity with rural producers

The causes of rural out migration include neo-liberal policies that undermine the price of peasant-produced crops, and climate change, which makes agricultural production increasingly uncertain. As a result, many Bolivian women from farming households find themselves forced to move to cities in search of work – often before the age of 15, with little formal education, and many from indigenous backgrounds. Indeed, while rural out migration is typically portrayed as male, the ‘feminisation’ of migration is increasingly recognised.

In the worst cases, these vulnerable young women become victims of human trafficking. Others end up working in private homes as domestic employees charged with cleaning, preparing meals, and providing child and elder care. Working conditions for domestic workers vary widely, from near-slavery to relatively dignified jobs. But in general, this sector, which comprises an estimated 72,000 workers, 97% of whom are women, has languished in the shadows.

Despite the challenges of organising often fragmented and isolated domestic workers, remarkable progress has been made in forming unions to defend their rights. In 1993, the National Federation of Domestic Workers’ Unions (FENATRAHOB) was founded, which now comprises 13 unions from Bolivia’s nine departments. The unions work to defend domestic workers’ and women’s rights, and provide education and resources to their members. They also work to build the self-esteem and cultural identity of their members, most with roots in rural areas, by strengthening links between the countryside and the city.

Domestic Workers in Search of Dignity and Food Sovereignty

Dignity and Food Sovereignty In 2009, the domestic workers’ union of La Paz, SITRAHO (Sindicato de Trabajadoras del Hogar), launched the Domestic Workers in Search of Dignity and Food Sovereignty project, with the goal of providing members a political education in food sovereignty, and increasing the direct marketing of healthy, ecologically produced food.

With support from the Interchurch Cooperative for Development Cooperation (ICCO), SITRAHO opened its Practical School for Women Domestic Workers (Escuela Integral Práctica de Mujeres), which carries out programmes focused on leadership skills, financial management, and entrepreneurship. Among these, the Programme in Gastronomy and Food Sovereignty provides training to the union’s 2000 members in culinary arts, food safety, and other practical food management skills, together with a political education in the principles of food sovereignty. The curriculum focuses on the use of local products, procuring ingredients from family farmers’ organisations, and revaluing indigenous foods. These principles are then applied in the homes where SITRAHO members work, thus spreading the values of food sovereignty to middle and upper class families. The programme also runs its own lunch counter selling healthy, ecological, locally sourced, and affordable dishes with a focus on consumer education. Most of the consumers are working people from the San Pedro neighbourhood, where the restaurant is located, with the profits used to support unemployed or elderly union members.

Rural and indigenous identity

The practical school for domestic workers is transformed into a restaurant during lunch hours. Photo: SITRAHO-SP

The practical school for domestic workers is transformed into a restaurant during lunch hours. Photo: SITRAHO-SP

Many domestic workers remain closely connected to their rural villages, with family members still engaged in farming activities. They are keenly aware of the difficulties farmers face, and of the need for urban, worker, and consumer solidarity with rural producers. Rosalía Lazo Lazo, who came to La Paz from the rural province of Omasuyos at the age of 14, comments, “since we started in 2009 I’ve heard from a lot of peasants and indigenous farmers and this makes me remember my childhood and think of my parents who still work in the fields.”

Many domestic workers are from Quechua or Aymara indigenous cultures and are familiar with native indigenous foods such as quinoa (Chenopodium quinoa), cañahua (Chenopodium pallidicaule), açaí (Euterpe oleracea) and muña (Minthostachys mollis). These foods are often unknown to urban residents, and are not found in supermarkets that primarily sell imported products and processed foods with homogeneous tastes and textures. Through the Domestic Workers in Search of Dignity and Food Sovereignty project, not only do domestic workers value foods from their own food culture, they also introduce these foods to their employers.

Domestic workers are generally responsible for making all household food purchases and for preparing three meals per day. This gives them tremendous influence over families’ food choices, what kind of food system they support, and whether they promote corporate value-chains or the peasant economy. Rosalía comments, “I know farming is hard work and that people in the countryside need support. My mother still wakes up very early each morning to look after her sheep, and frost or hail sometimes damage her crops. Consumers don’t value ecologically produced products, preferring instead to buy imported produce. But in my last job, I would buy cañahua for the kids. It was hard because they preferred to eat junk food, but I would say to them, don’t you want to grow up to be big and strong? And they then would eat it! Nothing is impossible when you believe in what you do.”

Alliances with family farmers

Over the past few years, SITRAHO has formed partnerships with important food advocacy groups, small businesses, and producers’ organisations including the Association of Organic Producers of Bolivia (AOPEB); the Coordination of Peasant Economic Organisations (CIOEC); Fundación Sartawi which promotes sustainable agriculture in the municipality of Calamarca (south of La Paz); Madre Tierra, a chain of organic food stores in La Paz; and Slow Food Bolivia. SITRAHO has made a commitment to source food from these small farmer organisations and local businesses to strengthen the local food economy and support small scale farmers.

In October 2014, SITRAHO co-organised La Paz’s first Ethical Food Fair (Festival de Comida Consciente). The women of SITRAHO were in charge of preparing all of the dishes offered at the fair, with an explicit commitment to educating people about non-GMO and ecologically produced ingredients sourced from local farmers’ organisations. Piero Meda, a farmer from Calamarca said, “we work closely with the union of domestic workers to bring healthy food directly to consumers.”

SITRAHO’s partnerships go well beyond food sourcing, consumer education, and helping to create local markets for small farmers. They also translate into political alliances with farmers on important issues of agricultural policy. For instance, SITRAHO is an active member of the Bolivian Consumers’ Collective, a broad-based coalition of workers, activists, and consumer groups, which recently issued a declaration condemning the government’s support of transgenic crops and industrial agriculture.

Looking ahead

SITRAHO’s Domestic Workers in Search of Dignity and Food Sovereignty project is a powerful example of collective efforts to repair the social, economic, and ecological damage caused by rural outmigration. Such rural–urban alliances are critical to supporting declining peasant economies and to building food sovereignty in the city and the countryside.

Perhaps one of the greatest challenges faced by the union so far is the history of trauma of many of its members. Many domestic workers have been victims of trafficking, child labour, and abuse, experiences that often manifest as internalised oppression. Whereas many domestic workers feel a strong connection to their rural roots, others aspire to the urban, consumerist values of their employers. They have often been subjected to intense racism and may reject indigenous foods so shopping at the supermarket or buying imported food can symbolise status and acceptance.

Thus, building food sovereignty requires tireless, ongoing work to dismantle racism, sexism, and classism; recover rural identities; and construct class-based alliances that link workers and peasants, producers and consumers, in a collective struggle. These lessons from Bolivian domestic workers can be applied much more broadly, to efforts around the world, to create community-based food systems rooted in justice, sustainability, health, and culture.

Karen Pomier and Tanya Kerssen

Karen Pomier is a Bolivian agronomist and activist who works with SITRAHO, in support of the Domestic Workers in Search of Dignity and Food Sovereignty project.
Email: karenpf@hotmail.es

Tanya Kerssen is the research coordinator at the Institute for Food and Development Policy/Food First in Oakland, California, USA (www.foodfirst.org).
Email: tkerssen@foodfirst.org

First published: http://www.agriculturesnetwork.org/magazines/global/rural-urban-linkages/domestic-workers-building-food-sovereignty

Threatened landscapes unite rural and urban communities

Written by Pia Kieninger , Marianne Penker

In the past 50 years, about a quarter of Japan’s cultivated land has been lost, threatening food production, cultural landscapes and biodiversity. One of Japan’s most valued cultural landscapes includes rice terraces. In order to prevent them from abandonment, an innovative concept known as the Ownership System, was devised almost 25 years ago. This has today become a national movement based on the cooperation between rural and urban communities who combine food production with landscape conservation, cultural activities and environmental education.

children-discover-nature

Photo: P. Kieninger

Japan is one of the most urbanised countries in the world where rural communities are rapidly shrinking and aging. About three quarters of nation’s population live in cities, each located in the few flat areas of this otherwise mountainous country. Japan is the ‘oldest’ country worldwide, with 25% of the population being 65 or older, and the average farmer is close to 70 years old. The problem of shrinking and aging rural populations across the country led to the creation of the term, genkai shuraku, literally translated as ‘communities on the edge of existence’.

oyamasenmaida

‘Owners’ manually harvest the rice and prepare it for drying. Photo: Pia Kieninger

As rural communities grow ever smaller, land is abandoned, infrastructure is lost, and traditional Japanese cultural landscapes known as satoyama, degrade. In the national biodiversity strategy, the “lack of human influence” in satoyama is highlighted as one of the top three biodiversity crises and the role of civil society to protect landscapes is emphasised. Rice terraces (tanada) are particularly important in satoyama, yet about 40% of the country’s rice terraces are abandoned. Apart from food production, they are hotspots of biodiversity and cultural identity. Many people perceive them as the landscape most close to them and they feel attracted to them due to their high cultural and aesthetic value. Tanada are landscapes of their ancestors, culture, tradition, (spiritual) homeland and important places for national identity.
The Ownership System

Civic movements to save satoyama started in the 1980s, firstly by mainly supporting forestry, as cultivation of agricultural land was restricted by law to farmers only. But to support civic engagement on farmland, the government suspended these restrictions in a number of special districts.

The first Tanada Ownership System started in Yusuhara on Shikoku island in 1992. The Ownership System later became a national movement, where mainly city dwellers, called ‘owners’, rent agricultural land in order to cultivate it under the well-organised support of local farmers and other experts. Among all the different types of Ownership Systems, those focusing on rice production are most popular. In 2008, 187 Tanada Ownership Systems were officially registered across Japan, but the actual number might be even higher. The foundation of many Tanada Ownership Systems coincided with the Agricultural Ministry’s award for the top 100 terraced paddy fields of Japan that highlights outstanding scenic beauty and sustainable use. This award brought publicity and visitors to the rice terraces, but it also raised local pride and encouraged them to engage in conservation activities.

Tanada Ownership Systems all over Japan share the same principles, but organisation, size and participation fees differ. In the area of Kamogawa City, close to greater Tokyo, there are at least seven Ownership Systems. One of these, the Ōyamasenmaida Tanada Ownership System in Chiba Prefecture, is commonly regarded as a best practice example. The experiences of locals and city dwellers participating in this system are presented here.

Ōyamasenmaida

Intergenerational exchange after the harvest. Photo: P. Kieninger

Intergenerational exchange after the harvest. Photo: P. Kieninger

Owners’ receive instructions from farmers and association members before planting rice. Photo: P. Kieninger

Owners’ receive instructions from farmers and association members before planting rice. Photo: P. Kieninger

Ōyamasenmaida is a mountainous rice terrace landscape around 100 km south-east of Tokyo. Over 400 terraces, ranging in size from 20 to 900 m2, extend up a south-east slope. They belong to the hamlet of Kogane, numbering less than 20 households.

Cultural landscapes protected by the Tanada Ownership System. Photo Pia Kieninger

Cultural landscapes protected by the Tanada Ownership System. Photo Pia Kieninger

With an aging population, this region lacks farm successors, owing in part to the uneconomically small scale of the paddy fields. In 1997, landowners and other locals founded the NPO ‘Ōyamasenmaida Preservation Association’ and initiated a Tanada Ownership System to safeguard their rice terraces. The founders saw the Ownership System as a win-win for the region. The director explained, “the ownership system is the right way because the small paddy fields are big enough for city dwellers and the old farmers possess a lot of knowledge to offer the city people.”

In 2000, the Ownership System started with 39 terraces, and membership expanded quickly to include 453 owners with 415 plots, or more than 1000 participants including their families and friends in 2006.

Six different programmes are offered. Two are for growing rice (for individuals with families and friends, or for groups sharing common paddy fields), one is for growing rice and brewing rice wine, one is for cultivating soybeans, and one for growing cotton, producing textiles and dying them with indigo.

The sixth, a programme for reconstructing old houses was also recently introduced. Participation fees for the city dwellers range from the equivalent of around US$30 to US$300, depending on the type of programme and field size, with 10% of the fees going to the landowners and the rest to the association.

The owners’ farming activities are strictly scheduled within seven collective working days during the year: rice planting in April/May, weeding in June, July and August, harvesting and threshing in September, and the harvest festival in October. Each day starts with an attendance check and a welcome speech to explain the procedures.

Ōyamasenmaida Preservation Association members and local volunteers act as instructors, while during the rest of the season, the association takes care of the other tasks. Besides these scheduled activities, exchange and communication among the owners, farmers and local people is equally important.

Working days typically include shared lunches or dinners, dancing (the Ōyamasenmaida dance), and karaoke parties. This helps to establish and deepen friendships between participants. Moreover, several side activities are offered such as courses on preparing traditional dishes and handcrafts, nature education programmes, hiking tours, traditional dances, concerts and theatre, and even volleyball tournaments in the paddy fields before rice planting. The association also built the tanada club house financed by the Kamogawa City, to encourage more rural– urban exchange. “Many people meet farmers at the tanada club and become personal friends. I guess this is also an aim of the club,” says one of the owners who developed a lasting friendship with the landowner of his rented paddy field and spends the nights before working days in the landowner’s house.

Why participate?

The motivations driving the participation of the local landowners and population include landscape conservation, revival of rural areas, exchange with the urban population, and attracting urban people back to the countryside in the long run. It remains to be seen whether many of Japan’s urban majority will be motivated to move to the country and take up farming as a profession or help to rebuild rural communities.

At the moment, urban participants who travel up to 150 km to reach the land, are mostly motivated by their love for the rice terraces which they wish to preserve. They also look for recreation, the joy of manual work in the open air, and to be close to nature. Most of them had no connection with farming before taking part, and they want to learn more about agriculture and Japanese culture.

Many parents see the educational value of involving their children. “Tanada can only be cultivated by hand. It is important to protect the heritage of our ancestors and the cultural landscape. I bring my children and grandchildren to learn to work with their hands. It is very important that children see that manual labour is exhausting.”

The relevance of the Ownership System for food production is marginal, as the terrace areas and the amount of rice harvested by individuals is quite small, and from a strictly economic point of view, rice in supermarkets is much cheaper. However, the ‘non-economic’ values gained during the production process and from the self-produced rice, rice wine, tofu and soybeans far outweigh the lower prices from supermarkets. Furthermore, since the Fukushima nuclear disaster in 2011, the director of the association reported an increased interest in food safety and an even higher interest in participation by young people and families.

6_collective-celebrations

Celebrating with some traditional theatre during the annual harvest festival. Photo: Pia Kieninger

The rest of the world

Although the Japanese experience is unique in terms of its socioeconomic and demographic transformation processes, similarities can be found in initiatives around the world. For example, a similar system called ‘rent a grapevine’ started in 2002 in vineyards in Purbach and Retz, Austria. Volunteers learn to appreciate farming and the landscape, and are rewarded with their own wine. As in Japan, participants work for five or six days each year. The initiative was initiated by the tourism association to promote the municipality and support local farmers with additional income. Whereas the Japanese Tanada Ownership System helps to safeguard rice terraces threatened by abandonment, in Purbach, vineyards have been newly created for the purpose of the renting programme, and in Retz, farmers take turns in providing land. Similar to Japan, participants are mostly high educated city dwellers, but with a passion for wine.

Protecting landscapes and accompanying all the steps of food production seem to be important motivators for urban participants. The rural urban cooperation seen in Japan not only satisfies urban participants, but can be highly beneficial for the conservation of cultural landscapes and biodiversity. And, last but not least, the work of local farmers is more highly valued, and they are better able to share their knowledge, experience and skills, and contribute more to the cultivation of their land.

Pia Kieninger and Marianne Penker

Pia Kieninger defended her PhD at the University of Natural Resources and Life Sciences, Vienna on ‘Civic Engagement within Cultural Landscape Conservation in Japan’.
Email: kieninger.pia@gmail.com

Marianne Penker is the deputy head of the Institute for Sustainable Economic Development at the University of Natural Resources and Life Sciences, Vienna.
Email: marianne.penker@boku.ac.at

References

  • Kieninger, P.R. (2013) Urban engagement in traditional landuse management. Cultural landscape conservation in Japan – A case study. SVH – Südwesterdeutscher Verlag für Hochschulschriften.
  • Kieninger, P.R., Penker, M., Yamaji, E. (2013): Esthetic and spiritual values motivating collective action for the conservation of cultural landscape – A case study of rice terraces in  Japan. Renewable Agriculture and Food Systems, 28(04): 364-379.
  • Kieninger, P.R., Yamaji, E., Penker, M. (2011): Urban people as paddy farmers – the Japanese Tanada Ownership System discussed from a European perspective. Renewable Agriculture and Food Systems, 26(4): 328‐341.
  • Kieninger, P., Holzner, W., Kriechbaum, M. (2009): Biocultural Diversity and Satoyama. Emotions and the fun-factor in nature conservation – A lesson from Japan. Bodenkultur, 60(1): 15-21.
  • Kieninger, P. & Penker, M. (2009): tanada-ownership-system. Kulturlandschaftserhaltung auf Japanisch. [Cultural landscape conservation in Japanese]. zoll+ Österreichische Schriftenreihe für Landschaft und Freiraum, 14: 45-49. [in German]

First published http://www.agriculturesnetwork.org/magazines/global/rural-urban-linkages/japan-landscapes-unite-communities