Keeping the Community in Healthy Food Access

Accessing fresh, healthy, and affordable foods in rural communities can be a real struggle. Helping people in Big Stone County build those healthy, local food systems has been my work for the past couple of years, and we have seen some good results from it, along with some economic revitalization in the local food sector. There’s always more to be done.

Production of and access to fresh, affordable produce in a rural “food desert” is a problem with many facets: producers cope with weather stresses, low prices, and lack of markets for their product; retailers deal with quality, pricing, and sourcing issues, and consumers may not always be able to get what they want for a price they’re comfortable paying.

So, it seems like any strategy that can help community members increase their access to and intake of fresh fruits and veggies at an affordable price would be a real boon. Bountiful Baskets, a buying club with chapters across the western U.S. and now starting up in Ortonville, purports to do just that. For a $15 (or $25 for the organic option) “financial contribution,” local residents will be able to place an order online for a large portion of produce and pick it up every other week.

Bountiful Baskets calls itself a “Food Co-op,” and its local organizers refer to it as a “non-profit volunteer co-op.” But Bountiful Baskets does not appear to be incorporated as a co-op nor registered as a non-profit in any of the several western states’ records I searched. It was started in 2009 as a for-profit corporation in Arizona, and it was administratively dissolved by the state in 2011 for failure to file annual reports.

Still, Bountiful Baskets organizers refer to the service in the language used by its administrators, and those administrators are careful to indicate that you are not “ordering” the merchandise, you’re contributing to a pool of money to, well, order something with a whole bunch of other people:

“Making a contribution is sometimes referred to as ‘ordering’, but this is not accurate. We call it contributing or participating, because Bountiful Baskets is not a business that you buy from, but rather a co-op where we all pool our money to buy things together.”

So, why does it matter that they are not incorporated as an actual co-op or non-profit? Because being a real co-op actually means something beyond putting your money in a collective pot to purchase a basket of goods–specifically, a co-op is a member-owned, democratically controlled enterprise that operates according to a specific set of principles. The Granary Food Co-op in Ortonville is one such incorporated cooperative, serving its member-owners and community since 1979.

Being a non-profit actually means something, too. Actual non-profits must report how their money is spent–but Bountiful Baskets is silent on the subject of staff, profits, or anything fiscally related other than the above-quoted “contribution” piece. Being a non-profit does not simply mean that you’re relying on local people to do work without being paid, which is a part of the Bountiful scheme.

Bountiful Baskets and its organizers talk about this service being a great community-building enterprise, and there certainly does seem to be a sense of camaraderie among the volunteers at pick-up sites from the comments and reviews I saw online. But, no money is retained in the local community from these online “contributions.” Food from Mexico and the southwestern U.S. comes in on a truck and gets sorted out and taken home by individual “contributors,” bypassing local grocery stores, local farmers markets, and yes, the local food co-op.

In short, Bountiful Baskets is simply a buying club–and one in which you’ll for the most part be purchasing things you can already get locally. Calling it a co-op or a non-profit or comparing it to a CSA (you never know what you’ll get!) or farmers market (all that produce!) is simply disingenuous–capitalizing on the good feelings people have for those things while not actually doing the things that make people feel good about them.

This is not to disparage those unpaid local organizers attempting to set up chapters in their communities–I can certainly empathize with the strain of sourcing good food on a budget–it is simply to tell the truth about what this business is and what it isn’t.

And it is also to ask specific questions: Where do the “contributions” go? Where does the food come from? Who is making money from this enterprise, and how much are they making?

Yes, ordering through Bountiful Baskets can save you money. But the money you’re saving over buying locally is money that pays for local jobs and local infrastructure in your community. It’s money that keeps the rent paid, the lights on, the coolers running, and the farmers farming. It’s money that pays for employees and the merchandise they stock on the shelves.

Building local food systems and increasing access to healthy food isn’t just about the food itself–it’s also about the role of healthy food and local grocery stores in a strong and diversified local economy. Sourcing cheaper produce by circumventing local retailers may be a boost for your family’s budget, but it should not be confused with real strategies for building and investing in community.

Wouldn't it be cool if…

So this morning I took off my farming and food hats to put on my rural booster beanie under my techno-geek helmet and did a little research into a new social media craze that I’ve seen showing up via Twitter in the last few months.

The social media tool that is heading toward this year’s crown as coolest new service is Foursquare, and while it’s only being used in major cities around the globe right now, I can see great possibilities for its use right here in good ol’ SoDak.

The idea behind Foursquare is that it allows users to “check in” at various locations in their city.  The game aspect of it involves getting “points” for number of check-ins, allowing the user to move up through the ranks from “newbie” to “mayor” of a particular location, and sometimes those ranks come with deals from participating businesses.

Foursquare is useful for city residents and travelers alike in that it allows users to share information about hotspots, little-known destinations, great menu items at restaurants and cafes–you get the picture.  A user who checks in at a new eatery can then get tips about the venue’s specialities, perks, and quirks from others who’ve come before.

Now, I know that South Dakota isn’t the place that pops in mind when free associating on the term “early adopters.”  But have you ever been traveling in a rural state (even your own) and wondered what that small town off the highway (or off the beaten path) has to offer in terms of services, eateries, etc.?

Sure, you can surf the web from your iPhone or Blackberry (if you have one) for these attractions in larger towns and cities, but wouldn’t it be cool if you could get a tip about a little-known cafe with the best burgers ever in, say, Elkton?

Wouldn’t it be nice if travelers who’d come before you (and residents, too) could build and use an app that could spur business for somebody besides the Golden Arches, which uses its enormous roadside signs as a way to lure in hungry travelers who’ve no idea what other options a community holds?

A social media tool that could build an archive of hints and tips like this for rural communities across a rural state could be invaluable for spurring tourism and building local economies.

Right now, Foursquare is only centered in larger cities (yes, larger than Sioux Falls or Rapid).  But I can’t help dreaming and scheming about what this kind of social media could do on a more rural scale for keeping small businesses and rural communities humming.