PUBLISHED JULY 13, 2020
During summertime, the Kerrytown neighborhood marches to the beat of a Farmer’s Market drummer. The local population swells on Wednesdays and Saturdays, when vendors set up their stands and the public streams through to gawk, visit, and purchase produce and crafts. In that regard, this summer is the same as every other. But this summer is also very different. Everyone is wearing masks. People awkwardly and distantly visit with friends and neighbors in conversations that go like this: “hello, hey it’s me behind this mask, how are you?” Foot traffic through the market is one way. Signage tells people to stay six feet apart and move along. Yellow-vest-clad volunteers are there to remind people of the rules.
I am grateful that some things have not changed. One of my favorite Saturday market rituals is trading lunch for produce with Dennis of Sparr’s Greenhouse. Dennis walks across to the restaurant in the morning to order food for his wife, to be picked up later. I take him the order around 2pm, and then the haggling begins. Dennis says: here, take all of these cucumbers and tomatoes and this flower bouquet is for you. I say: Dennis, this is too much. Just give me half the produce and the flowers. He bargains up, I bargain down, until we reach a happy medium where we both think we got more than we gave.
Then I wander over to the Goetz Family Farm stand to pay for the boxes of produce they delivered that morning and to ask Karlene (the matriarch) what she has leftover from the day. Often there are odds and ends that I take off her hands and she adds to the invoice. I write her a check and leave. Last Saturday she came by after market with a box of basil and said “this is for you.” I said, “Great. We’ll make pesto.” Then I give her baked goods and cold drinks – both of us walking away happy with the trade. Sometimes I’m graced with a visit from Farmer Jon (Karlene’s husband) who loves to chew the fat and tell stories -- truth or fiction, I’m never really sure. If I’m lucky, their son Jake pays a visit. He enjoys all the flowers and hanging plants on our patio and comes by for a break from the bustle of the market. If I’m REALLY lucky, Jake brings along some of his young children (shout out to Abigail and Levi). Farm kids—even really young ones – have a wisdom and confidence beyond their years and a gusto for life.
One byproduct of being located in the Kerrytown neighborhood is that summer is our busiest season. It’s funny how you can walk three or four blocks south to Washington and Liberty streets, and the cadence is totally different. Their ebbs and flows are much more dependent on the university. Fall, with returning students and football Saturdays – plus spring, with graduation celebrations – are their busiest times. But for us, summer reigns supreme. Take the combination of a large outdoor area, which we adorn with flowers and greenery everywhere, and the draw of Farmer’s Market, plus vegan dishes made with fresh veggies and bam – that is us. And this summer is no different than the rest. I am extremely grateful that business is so strong. But I can’t help feeling that it may be fleeting. In these uncertain times, anything could change at any moment. But while we can, and while everyone in our orb is healthy, we will continue to produce as much delicious vegan food as we possibly can.
A noteworthy thing happening as of late: our new t-shirts are flying off the shelves. A few weeks ago I approached Elmo, a local printer, about a design with our Detroit Street logo and “Black Lives Matter” printed in much larger text,. Our staff was really excited to wear these shirts, carrying the words that are on everyone’s mind. After distributing shirts to staff, we offered them for sale – with all profits going to Peace Neighborhood Center. These shirts are now on their third printing. And I’m about to write Peace a check. Staff members report the great reception the public has to the shirts, which makes me immensely happy. Watch for new face masks coming soon, with a similar design.
I’m actually on vacation right now for three days in northern Michigan, staying in a caboose-turned-camper in the woods. It’s great to get out and hike the dunes, kayak and swim. It’s a reminder that there’s more to life than COVID. But it doesn’t stop my thoughts of inequality or injustice.
On the way up here I read an opinion piece in Sunday’s New York Times by Amna Akbar. The writer, a law professor at OSU, focuses on the movements to defund police, cancel rent, and lower carbon emissions – and the connection between the three. But what the piece really did for me was to present the notion that real change is possible. Change that is so big and so deep that it would actually put the needs of people and the planet over profits, and would make unnecessary the instruments of suppression that make capitalism work. I seldom let myself entertain such possibilities, having become jaded by decades of in-the-trenches activism. But just for a moment I became giddy at the thought of what our society could be, and how everyone could participate and have meaningful lives and livelihoods.
Then my attention returned to where I am now: the Great White North. It’s beautiful in northwestern Michigan, but it’s also a playground for the rich. On some of the inland lakes, there is not even public access for swimming – just private homes surrounding the lake. These natural resources should be available to all.
In the mid-1980s, following the Sandinista revolution, I spent time in Nicaragua. One reform that really stuck with me was that the properties of Somoza, the toppled dictator, had been nationalized. His oceanside compounds were turned into worker-vacation sites. Anyone and everyone could go. I was living with a schoolteacher, Britania, and her daughter, Marcela. Teacher salaries were on par with taxi drivers. Britania and Marcela had their turn for a vacation that summer. They had never before experienced anything like it. I was so excited for them. It made me wonder: if Nicaragua can give its workers a nice place to vacation, why can’t we? So I will end this post with one more social change demand: vacations for everyone. Mar-a-Lago in 2021 anyone?