Friday, April 13, 2012

Backyard Bounty

As I traveled with my child last week for Spring Break, I picked up a Sunset magazine in the airport. I love Sunset, as it has a similar and complementary flavor to what I am trying to achieve with my website so, not surprisingly, when I cracked open the pages I was delighted to find an idea that I loved— loved enough to share here.

Apparently, Sunset's One Block Feast  has been going on since 2008, though this month's article was the first I had heard of it. Four years ago, galvanized by the expanding locavore movement, the magazine's staff set out to grow, raise and produce everything needed for a summertime feast. They started a backyard garden, raised chickens and bees, and learned to make ingredients like cheese, vinegar, beer, wine and salt—all within the parameters of small scale backyard gardening.

"All sorts of eye-opening things happened along the way. [The group] came to venerate the people who make their flour for instance (winnowing wheat is a gigantic pain, to put it mildly), and artisan cheesemakers who create consistent results (none of their cheeses ever turned out the same). They changed the way they cooked and began to truly understand everything they ate. While harvesting honey, pressing grapes, and cleaning the chicken coop together, they also became better friends, [and] decided to keep growing."

They launched a blog during that first growing season ( sunset.com/oneblockfeast ) which ended up winning a James Beard journalism award, spawned a book and, eventually, the contest written about in this month's (April) magazine. The contest challenged nine teams across the West to their own One Block Feast. (To read more about the contest and participating teams: sunset.com/garden/sunset-one-block-feast-00418000074947/)

I love this idea --that friends and neighbors of all ages can come together and, in the process of working together, connect more deeply with what is most meaningful in our lives: our food, our land and each other. Participating teams in the Sunset challenge produced a wild array of foodstuffs ranging from oysters and prawns, to honey and pickles and a vast assortment of fruits and vegetables. All attested to the fulfillment and sense of connectedness they garnered from taking part in the project and, it seems to me, that even a scaled back version of this challenge could bring a host of blessings to any group, anywhere, willing to invest in the process. I like the idea so much I'm going to present it to a group of my friends. So how about it? Are there any RST readers out there who want to embrace the challenge? Those who do, please be sure to let me know how it goes! 
Happy Growing!


To read more, or to order the book, check out the Sunset website:

Monday, March 26, 2012

Big Meals Keep on Turning



(Photo Courtesy of Drew Shonka)


A friend of mine, whose child is on a very restricted diet due to some health challenges, recently commented to me that she had never realized before how much she used food to express love and comfort for her children. This got me thinking about how I see the married roles of food and love in my own life.

I was fortunate enough to grow up with a mother who expresses her creativity through the planning and preparation of food. She pores over newspapers, magazines and cookbooks looking for inspiration. She watches the Food Network. She is kept awake during the night with menu minutiae before a big party.  One day, long ago, she told me that she saw the daily act of planning, cooking, and serving a meal as an expression of love from beginning to end. This tiny revelation, shared in a fleeting moment in the kitchen, changed my understanding of my mother immensely. My mother is discerning and does not suffer fools lightly. She often has a sharp tongue and a biting wit. But those who know my mom best also know that she is fiercely loyal, always dependable and a caring friend beneath the prickly shell. The recognition that the large percentage of her day was devoted to love and service, nourishing her family -which also often includes a large network of friends- was an awakening for me. Every recipe clipped, every trip to the grocery, every pot and pan scrubbed was an act of tenderness, easily overlooked.

 Of course now that I am a mother myself, I see how my time devoted to growing, planning and preparing food is laced with care. I have also been graced with dozens, if not hundreds of wonderful meals prepared by friends and community members. Which is to say that the older I am, and the more I examine the historical, cultural, and emotional aspects of food and our relationships with it, I am grateful to live in a community where food not only provides the basic calories necessary to make it through a day, but where it is appreciated as a form of beauty and creative expression; where the preparation of food, from farm to table is viewed as foundational nourishment  -on physical, emotional and spiritual planes.

When we first moved out to our small agricultural town, I was surprised and slightly befuddled to discover a whole new layer of food culture. First, the common practice of “potlucks” –for any and all occasions- was a new, and somewhat disorienting practice for one with stodgy Eastern roots. On a recent visit, my mother was completely shocked as I hosted a dinner party for 25 people from a prone position on the couch as I wrangled a crushing case of Lyme disease. The ability to give up control -to trust that others could and would happily put together a fabulous meal- has been a hard-won gift from living here.

But true awakening has come in the form of the “meal wheel”.  The meal wheel is another one of those "new-old" ideas that makes so much sense, has been practiced throughout history, amongst many cultures, but is being re-discovered and refined with the aid of technology.

A meal wheel is established under any circumstance of extra need: the birth of a baby, an illness or death, a natural disaster, or any other circumstance in which extra support is needed. Though friends and family have supported each other with meals for as long as memory serves, the beauty of the meal wheel is that it draws from a much larger pool than any one individual’s closest circle. My first exposure to meal wheels came over 10 years ago when many of my friends were still having babies. One person, usually a close friend of the person in need of support, would take on the task of coordinating the meal wheel and getting the word out. As time went on, members of the community –some closely tied, others just wishing to offer sustenance- would call the coordinator and sign up for a day (or days) to bring a meal to the family. It is such a simple task –we all make dinner as it is, so it usually is not a lot of extra trouble to double the recipe, and the provider can usually choose a day that works into his/her schedule with some ease. But when the simple offering of a single meal as a gesture of support is magnified and expanded by the invisible web of a wider community, the impact is profound. In our tiny town, recipients of meal wheels have often had meals delivered to their homes for more than 6 weeks. Let's face it. It feels good to offer support to someone in need. People want to help. And the gift of a meal is both simple and complete. It is an offering of nourishment to body and soul alike. Friends who have been the recipients of meal wheels report being both stunned and humbled by such outpouring of support. The body is nourished and the stress of having to think about food is eased, but more importantly, the tangible evidence of love and support from people they may not even know very well, has far-reaching repercussions. It is a ripple of love, returned in matching pieces of Tupperware.

These days, the meal wheel is even easier to implement. Gone are the days of day- planners and the good luck needed to catch someone on the phone at a convenient time. The most recent crisis to hit our neighborhood introduced us to a new, online grid called “Meal Train” making it even easier to plug in.

If you are interested in starting a meal wheel in your community, try using the Meal
Train website:


Try it and see how the nexus of food and love can transform a life.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Truth and Beauty in Death and Dying


When I gave birth to our first child at home 18 years ago, the idea of home birth was regarded with significant skepticism and resistance. Though routine practice in countries like The Netherlands, in the U.S. home birth was still predominantly considered to be the domain of 19th century women, crunchy new-agers, and hippies. It was, to say the least, an uncomfortable idea amongst my prep-school-educated, East Coast network of family and friends. Many of my closest friends and family members questioned our judgment and the wisdom of our decision, and my first-born was affectionately nicknamed “Little Tofu” by her adoring grandparents. Being the first amongst my friends and siblings to have a child, it was sometimes challenging to be a trailblazer. But nearly two decades later, one of my sisters and several of those same friends have themselves made the choice to birth at home, and my once-skeptical mother, having now attended four home-births, is as strong an advocate as any. Nationwide, the practice has become much more mainstream and is rarely regarded as an “irresponsible” choice, though still not the elected by the majority of women.  The point is, that today women and families are increasingly aware that they have choices when it comes to birth and that there are many ways to approach the same situation safely and with integrity. Exposure, fortified by positive experiences has allowed the initial resistance to slowly peel off, thus providing a gateway for new ideas to take hold.

More recently, in my small corner of southwestern Wisconsin another “old idea-reborn” has been evolving over the past decade, as our community has increasingly been exposed to the practice of home funerals, green burials, and death and dying with consciousness.

Though the dormant seeds had long been present, the movement sprang to life 8 years ago when a beloved member of our community and young mother of three passed away.  When the coroner inquired about funeral home preference, the woman’s mother replied that she “would like to bring the body home.” Though widely practiced throughout history, the custom of having a wake and/or funeral at home was very unfamiliar territory for most of us at that time. Nevertheless, a community of do-ers we are and if our friend’s mother wanted her body at home, by-gum we were going to make it happen. Neighbors, friends and family members sprang into action trying to knit together all the strands necessary to assemble a home vigil and funeral for our beloved friend. Women cared for the body, made arrangements and prepared meals. Men came together and crafted a beautifully simple casket from local wood stored in a neighbor’s barn. Family and friends grieved together as we planned the celebration of a beautiful life. The experience of family and community coming together, attending to all the details of a home wake and funeral, bonding through grief and celebrating life was the impetus needed for a group to form.

In the winter months of 2006, further inspired after attending a workshop on death and dying, Charlene Elderkin, Susan Nesbit, Kathy Doerfer, and Kathy Neidert formed The Threshold Care Circle in Viroqua, WI. The group set to work educating themselves on care of the body, dying at home, home funerals and green burials, eventually releasing a workbook: My Final Wishes. At the time, there were no other groups doing this work in Wisconsin, and the women received invaluable guidance from the Minnesota Threshold Network, a group formed not long before. The primary mission of the group is to educate the public on what options surround death and dying, gently guiding people to think about what their final wishes are before the time of death. The women did their work –researching, educating and supporting- quietly and diligently for years until, in May of 2010, our community was engulfed in tragedy and grief when two 18-year-old boys were killed in a car accident in the early-morning hours of Mother’s Day. Living in a town as small as ours, no family was left untouched by the heartache of this tragedy, and once again, the community rallied together. This time, however, there were more resources in place for grieving family members who might wish for an alternative to the traditional choices of funeral and burial. With the care and guidance of the Threshold Care Circle, the family of one of the boys chose to bring his body home, bathe him, and hold a 3-day vigil on their front porch.* The home-vigil was new to almost everyone who experienced it, and the family’s choice to do this undulated outward, reaching an unexpectedly large group of people. But in the midst of unimaginable despair, those who were sharing the experience were finding extraordinary moments of truth and beauty. All were profoundly moved and forever changed through exposure to such tender caring and collective grief. A wide segment of our community had been initiated into an alternative view of death and dying, and it deeply touched a place of longing and need.

Since that terrible day in May, the way that our small, rural community deals with death and dying has been permanently altered. Many others have crossed over, some before their time. But increasing numbers of people are considering their final wishes, writing them down, and discussing them with kin. Many are choosing to die at home, in the presence of family and friends. Home funerals and green burial are also on the rise, and the Threshold Care Circle has expanded its numbers and its reach. Just as with birthing, the human longing for intention around the processes and rituals of death and dying too often go unmet. The response of 4 women to a need-identified, has changed our community forever and continues to ripple outward.



*to read about this in more detail, read Elderkin’s article "The Call"  in Lilipoh magazine:


Additional Resources for Threshold Care, Final Wishes, and Green Burial:


Threshold Care Circle

“My Final Wishes”


Minnesota Threshold Network

Novalis Institute: DEATH AND DYING: Beholding the Threshold Consciously

Anne O’Connor: Death can be a moment that connects us, even as it parts us http://minnesota.publicradio.org/display/web/2011/11/29/oconnor/

Joe Orso: Midwifing death at home

Minnesota Public Television: End-Of-Life Choices: Through History

Considered the “grandmother” of the movement: Nancy Poer:

Green Burial: Natural Path Sanctuary

Green Burial: Kevin Corrado of Natural Path Sanctuary interviewed on WPR:


Finally! A Spark!

At my age, it’s always a great feeling when an “ah-ha” moment hits, and last week, finding myself with some unexpected free time, the clutter in my brain was freed up enough for inspiration to strike.

Having struggled from the beginning to find the right focus for the realsmalltowns.com blog, it has finally become clear to me. From here on out, the blog will be titled “Sparks!” and will relay stories of small-sized initiatives that ignite and spread, with the potential to make big differences in people’s lives. Many of these inspirational stories will come directly from towns featured on the realsmalltowns website, but placement on the site is not a requirement for attention on the blog. A good example of such initiative comes from my home community when, in the late 1970s, a small group of local organic farmers banded together to form a small cooperative -now known as Organic Valley.

As one of the primary tenants of the website is to sniff out towns that are bubbling over with good energy and good ideas, the blog will now emphasize those ideas –a focus on what IS working in our country and emphasizing small groups of people working hard to bring big ideas to life.

I hope you enjoy the first installment of the new blog, launched from my hometown and featuring The Threshold Care Circle of Viroqua, Wisconsin. Please feel free to contact me through the realsmalltowns website if you have suggestions or ideas for other inspirational stories.

Yours,
Sheila

Friday, November 4, 2011

Necessary Work




RealSmallTowns.com is nearing its first anniversary as something “official”. I’m not exactly sure what that means, except that I have put something out there, and I stand behind my work. The website is focused on towns that percolate the intellect and ideas of much bigger cities with the spirit and soulfulness of a smaller community. For most -looking at it from the outside- the site simply profiles small, interesting towns.

But for me, what began as a project driven by interest and delight in vibrant small town life has revealed itself to be a timely and meaningful action. The more I am out there, experiencing firsthand, the purposeful intent living in places that those not-in-the-know might easily dismiss as quaint or bucolic, predictable, or even dull, the more inspired I become. My work no longer seems just interesting to me, it seems absolutely necessary.

As the enormous economic, environmental, and spiritual costs of big-business, global shipping, fossil-fuel dependence, money-driven politics, and human isolation become increasingly apparent, we are all engaged in a time of change whether we wish it or not. The towns that are represented on my site are leading the way in this change -each in their own notable way. These towns are proponents of local food and business. They champion community, dialogue, cooperatives and the myriad challenges that come with engaged relationship. In so doing, they provide a model of community that allows people to thrive in hard times.

Towns like these -that value sustainability and whose citizens seek creative solutions to the basic problems of food and shelter- are a small but leading-edge prototype of strong communities adapting to change while living in harmony with their environment. In each one, I have found energetic, smart and talented individuals who -through their work and their art, their music and their food, their integrity, their willingness to ponder and imagine, and their eagerness to create- together form a rich and vital place to live.

Such towns exist all across America, and they are growing in number -each one unique, with it's own flavor. But when brought together under the umbrella of this site, they become, in a sense, their own community- a growing network of small towns that offer a beacon of hope in compromised times. And as the number of towns on the site grows, what will begin to crystallize is a picture -a profile of a part of America that IS working- with people finding strength where strength is to be found- not through the power of corporate money supporting and spreading corporate ideals- but in each other and common ground; finding sustenance from a living planet that informs decisions and choices; finding richness in the creative work of sustainability and sustaining relationship.

This inspiration is why I love my work so much –it keeps me engaged, interested, inspired, and –on most days- hopeful.

http://realsmalltowns.com/

Monday, April 11, 2011

Mission: clarified.


I have been working away at realsmalltowns.com for more than a year now --mostly in isolation, as it is, at this point, just me. So it caught me off-guard last week when an old friend of mine asked for some clarification on my mission, parameters, and business model. Because all of these things are so formed and clear in my own mind, it caught me by surprise that a good old friend might have some questions! But questions help clarify, and I took the opportunity to articulate the concept in writing for others who might be interested:

1) In the big picture, I am trying to promote local economies and strong communities. There seems to be a small but growing movement in this direction, and I would like to help bring attention to those communities that are embracing the values of local economy and having some success with it.
2) The towns that seem to be embracing these values tend to be progressive/forward thinking -though each in their own individual way.
3) The towns that I am looking for are vibrant. They have a very strong sense of self that often revolves around some shared values and vision. So far, most of the towns embrace a respect and reverence for the outdoors and some form of environmentalism, though I can see that as the site grows, there might be other binding community tenets as well. In general, the communities that interest me are both creative and committed to sustainability --economic, environmental, and collective.
4) The towns that I profile generally have populations between 200 and 10,000, but most are 7,500 or fewer. There are a couple that fall a bit outside of this parameter (Truckee, CA is the only one posted so far) and I am open to larger towns (up to 25,000) that share the qualities I am committed to, once the core of the site is built up a bit more.
5) The towns need to have some basic amenities: at least a couple of decent places to stay and eat, and things to do --outdoors (As a rule, I try to promote "silent sports" such as biking, hiking, bird-watching, fishing, snow-shoeing, skiing and the like), arts, music, workshops etc. I usually try to consider whether or not I would enjoy spending at least two full days in a place.
6) The people that I see using this site are typically curious, open and adventurous.
7) Site use/purpose:
I envision the site being used by those who want to plan a vacation that is an alternative to what they may already have on their radar. For instance, let's say someone from the E. coast wants to go mountain biking for vacation. They would most likely have heard of Moab, but would find a great alternative to Moab in Torrey, Utah, and might just prefer the less-touristy option.
As the site develops, I also see it being used by people who are traveling across the country and looking for places to stay that depart from the typical highway-exit-offerings.
Furthermore, people who are looking for inspiration and ways to re-vitalize their own communities, could use the towns featured on the site as a resource.
Finally, most of the towns that I have featured so far seem to have pretty strong artists communities, and I am realizing that those artisans who choose to advertise on the site could use it as a way to present their work to a larger audience by linking to their websites.
8) I am hoping to fund this project by selling ad spaces to local businesses. In my town write-up I might write about certain businesses that stand out to me in one way or another but those write-ups will be totally independent of who chooses to advertise on the site. I'm fairly sure that I could get bigger, national brand advertisers on the site in the way that many bloggers do, but I really want to stay committed to my mission of supporting local businesses, and feel that my current formula is the best strategy in this regard. Corporate ads would not only take away from the aesthetic of the site, but would also diminish the strictly local feel of it. Obviously, if I cannot get enough support from local people I might have to reconsider this plan. (In keeping with my mission, I am trying to keep the cost of my ad spots very low in price ---$99/YEAR (< $9/month) for a listing in the town directory, and $299/YEAR ($25/month) for one of the "featured sponsor" spots running down the side of the page. These spots will be limited to 8/town and if folks click on a "featured sponsor" logo it will take them to that business's website.)
As far as the final assessment of whether a town qualifies or not, I must admit that much of it is intuitive, and I have to stand by that. I know this may be a difficult for some business-minded people to wrap their minds around, but in the end, that's what it boils down to. There are certain guidelines in place, but a place just has to feel right. Towns can be similar to people in this regard...you know how sometimes you meet a person and immediately there is a spark of interest and delight? That's what I like to feel when I am visiting a real, small town!

Thursday, October 7, 2010

The Tipping Point



Last spring, I set out on a nine-week journey to scout out interesting small towns in the western United States. I was looking for towns to post on my small-town travel site, and had a specific set of criteria in mind: the towns needed to be of a certain size, had to have good recreational opportunities, had to have at least a couple of places to stay, and non-fast-food eating establishments. Interesting festivals, strong arts, and a community interest in good food were pluses, but not essential.
 

While most of the criteria remained relevant over the course of the trip , I quickly came to see that there were more important, less visible (to the outsider) components that made some small towns alive and vibrant, while others were drying up. The underlying story of these towns mirrored that of my own over and over again.
 
Most small towns were founded on a particular livelihood or asset -fishing, agriculture, mining, logging, and later, manufacturing. As natural resources have depleted, the jobs around them have also dried up, and many of the towns that were built around these occupations have faded along with their industries. It is difficult to raise a family where there is no source of income, and as fewer people settle in small-town America, there are fewer reasons for young people to stay.
 
Despite this downward trend however, some small towns have bucked the odds -reinventing themselves to create thriving communities that are attracting newcomers rather than witnessing mass exodus. Of course attraction raises some issues as well. Many small towns were also established around shared ancestry, religion and values. Making decisions about how things should run is much easier when a community is more homogeneous. Newcomers bring new ideas and new ways of doing things, which sometimes are at odds with long-established traditions, and can seem threatening, peculiar, or downright deviant to the accepted way of life. This tension between new and old frequently causes friction, as often times there is little trust between the two, fomenting fear and precipitating resistance to change. When tradition holds so strongly to the notion of stability that new ideas cannot take root, a town is often dying by the time people recognize what is happening. Young people move away and stay away, local businesses fail, and the town loses its spirit and soul.
 
I see it in many of the areas surrounding my own small town. Places that were prospering in the 1950s and 60s are now skeletons of their former selves and losing population every year. The most successful business is, more often than not, the local watering hole. What I may have, at one time, thought of as a phenomenon unique to my particular place was repeated over and over again on my trip: there were many towns that met the fundamental criteria I had established, but were definitely not places most people would want to travel to. The towns that were thriving had something more. They were the ones who had worked to create community, considered new ideas, used their resources of their town to create something fresh, and re-invented themselves while there was still young, creative energy in place to bring new ideas to life.
 
In the case of my particular small town, 30 years ago young, idealistic people moved out here because they wanted to live off the land, and there was still affordable, beautiful land to be found here. As they grew older, they had children and wanted to educate them in ways that were different from the traditional offerings, so a small Waldorf School was founded. Next came the small farmer's cooperative that over time morphed into the large farmer's cooperative known as Organic Valley. Things continued to build from there, and now there is a thriving arts community, theatre, music, a booming food co-op, many small retail stores, healthy, independent book, grocery and hardware stores (despite the fact that we also have a Walmart,) two local newspapers, and most recently, a listener-supported radio station. In short, Viroqua has all of the things that signify a flourishing small town. At some point the scales tipped, and creative energy built and intensified, until the town became something new and different from the traditional farming town that it once was.
 
These changes are not easy. They take hard work, and open-minded communication and coalition-building. They take vision and leadership, coupled with support and service. They take a willingness to consider differing opinions as valid. And even when these obstacles are by and large surmounted, there will always be people who are entrenched. Accordingly, there are unspoken codes of civility. People must try to be polite in small towns, but in the best of circumstances, this civility is accompanied by an effort to reserve judgment; an effort to try to talk and listen and work through differences with respect. In my mind this is the first critical step in being able to revitalize a town that may be on its way out.
 
While I am a champion of small town living, I cannot say that it doesn't come without some major challenges and drawbacks. Some of these are obvious; primarily the lack of diversity, and the lack of privacy. Upon closer look however, it is easy to see that while there may not be diversity on the surface, there is plenty of less visible diversity. There is economic diversity. There is educational diversity, there is political, ideological, and religious diversity. And the lack of privacy compels us to work out these differences in community. Working to find common ground with open-mindedness and civility is the first step towards fostering a fellowship that can live and thrive and prosper into the future.