Week 12

The Hodgson chapter contained eleven case-studies from cities around the U.S. and Canada looking at planning for urban agriculture. Some of the cities had a long history with food-systems planning and strong city-led support for urban agriculture, like Seattle, Toronto, and Vancouver, while others have only just begun to plan for urban agriculture, like Minneapolis and Cleveland (Hodgson, 2012). New Orleans is included in this chapter, despite the relative lack of interest and action on the part of local government officials. Up to this point, the urban agriculture initiatives in New Orleans have been undertaken by grassroots community organizations and larger non profit organization, while planners and city officials wrestle with other pressing issues like affordable housing and funding problems (Hodgson, 2012). The New Orleans example is especially interesting because it looks at the role of urban agriculture in the efforts to recover and rebuild after the devastation of Hurricane Katrina, which severely damaged the city’s food system along with many communities, and resulted in a large increase of vacant urban land (Hodgson, 2012). Despite some potential progress in terms of government support, like the 2008 Master Plan which mentions urban agriculture in several sections and recommends policies and zoning codes allowing agricultural activities as permitted uses, most of the work being carried out on the city’s food system is being carried out by activists, and this may remain the case for some time (Hodgson, 2012).

For whatever reason, this reading made me think of an old friend of mine. When I was sixteen I developed an unlikely friendship with a young woman I met at a local coffee shop. She was involved with various environmental and social justice movements, and described herself as a guerilla-gardener. She owned half an acre on the outskirts of town which she transformed into a food forest, with a variety of fruit trees, blueberry bushes, muscadine grapevines, and large vegetable beds. The first time I visited her garden she was busy making “seed bombs”, balls made from a mixture of compost and clay containing seeds (in this case native wildflowers like milkweed), which she then carried around town to toss onto vacant lots and right-of-ways. Her philosophy, both in general and in terms of urban agriculture, was: It is easier to ask for (and to receive) forgiveness than permission.

I was reminded of her philosophy when reading about some of the zoning codes that recognize and allow for urban agriculture and livestock, but regulate them restrictively, like Philadelphia’s code that prohibits farms and community gardens in low-density residential areas (Hodgson, 2012), or ordinances that allow backyard livestock, but with (arguably) unreasonably large setbacks from neighboring residences (Butler, 2012). I understand that recognizing urban agriculture in zoning codes has the potential to create benefits such as greater security of land tenure and the allowance of on-site sales, but it is disappointing that in some cases it seems like legitimizing urban agriculture increases barriers to such activities rather than facilitating it. It seems like some urban farmers may find that they had an easier time existing under the radar than as a recognized use.