A city as diverse as Miami faces a unique set of challenges concerning the alternative food movement. My response to this is mainly derived from personal observations as a “local” raised in the Kendall and Little Havana neighborhoods of Miami. My theme is related to access, with a focus on Latin American culture and the lack of space and opportunity for immigrant communities to practice “place making” and heritage agriculture. My attempt is to draw a connection between these observations and the article “Environmental and Food Justice: Toward Local, Slow, and Deep Food Systems” by Teresa M. Mares and Devon G Peña.
I have a warm and distinct memory as a child of driving every fall season to “The Redlands,” an agricultural enclave between the Everglades and the greater Miami area. The land (Note: the area is called Redland, but has always been improperly referred to by Miamians as The Redlands.) there was filled with “U-Pick” farms and bakery operations. My family adored the Knaus Berry Farm bakery and their cinnamon rolls. We would buy a couple dozen, possibly pick strawberries, and call it a day. The farm was run by members of the Church of the Brethren, mistaken by my Cuban family for decades as Amish. It was a novel daytrip in our old GM van. That was my first and only experience with local agriculture for many years (save for sneaking into the FL Dept. of Ag. orange orchards as a kid, but that’s another story). Like many residents of Miami, I was disconnected from both local and just food related to agriculture.
As I got older, I began to wonder about the influx of immigrants from Central and South America to Miami, Fl. I wondered about their transition, opportunity for cultural expression, and access to healthy and just food. It is taken for granted that the predominance of Latin American cultures makes a smooth transition to the U.S., but is that a reality? I would guarantee a deeper probe of the question would suggest it does not.
It was only more recently I learned the preservation of The Redlands as agricultural land is hinged on state ordinances limiting new purchases to a high minimum of acreage, with properties starting at $100,000. One can own a small farm, or Floridian-style plantation mansion for the right price.
Property for Sale: Redlands, Fl.
It seems as though what was intended to thwart development (a strange thing to say in South Florida, where planners are constantly pushing outward from urban centers at any cost), is resulting in prohibitively expensive land and an exclusionary practice. Ownership of Redlands land is mostly in white-hands, despite the myriad of cultures and diversity South Florida is home to.
There are a handful of community gardens in Miami (as well as farmer’s markets), but very few and they seem to be clustered near more affluent neighborhoods. The Miami Beach: Pine Tree Park Community Garden boasts the most plots (78 total).
Locations of farmers markets as reported to the USDA (2010). Miami, Fl.
Pinetree Park Community Garden, Miami Beach.
The pattern I am observing is not only a problem relating to lack of access to healthy food, but also one of food commodification and denial of migratory peoples engagement in place-based food practices through inequitable distribution of land and other resources. Mares and Peña refer to this place-based food practice as autotopography or “the grounding of self and communal identities through place making” (199 Mares and Peña). Many Latin American immigrants come to Miami with deep knowledge amenable to the concept of food sovereignty Mares and Peña refer to, one that can be “rooted in the practices of diasporic and immigrant communities in the United States” (204). The city is rapidly growing and transforming, but the alternative food movement seems to have been slow to take hold in Miami, which seems egregious considering the opportunity presented by its diverse community. My proposal is similar to that presented by Mares and Peña. It includes an encouragement for “reestablishing and reinventing heritage agroecosystems” (216), (however inversely this could entail an increase in the production of exotic crops in support of local food self-sufficiency). It would allow for expression of community identities and transformation of the landscape in order to “strive for deeper connection–with our food, with the places we live, and with each other” (217).
Work Cited
Mares, Teresa M. & Devon G. Peña “Environmental and Food Justice: Toward Local, Slow and Deep Food Systems” Cultivating Food Justice: Race, Class and Sustainability
This blog post provides great detail in the personal lived experience of the food system in Miami. I appreciate the authors analysis of the food climate in Miami and the surrounding areas. Miami strikes me as a similar melting pot of cultures and peoples as Los Angeles, so the readings touching on the South Central Farmers and their struggles surely are applicable here. As for the authors final observations about the lack of popularity the alternative food movement has had in Miami, perhaps this could be seen as a positive. If we go back to Slocum’s critique of the alternative food movement, how white-centric and privileged based it is. Perhaps Miami has the opportunity to create food alternatives similar to one we saw in class from New Orleans?