The Nashville Food Project: Non-profit-of-the-month, April 2018

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“We are a staff and a volunteer base of overachievers that are visionaries that want to see a world without poverty and without hunger, where everyone has access to the food they want and need, and everyone has access to the resources and the relationship to get all of those things,” Teri Sloan, Development Director of TNFP, said with conviction.

Forty-one million Americans are food insecure.

According to the USDA, “food insecurity” is ‘the lack of consistent access to enough food for a healthy, active lifestyle.’

To look at it another way, one in seven Americans are food insecure, and one in five children in America are food insecure.

But it’s not just about having enough food, it’s about having access to nutritious, whole food.  The link between food insecurity and poor health is inextricable. When unable to afford wholesome, nutrient-dense foods, one’s overall health declines, lowering one’s ability to prevent and fight disease.  Healthy food isn’t just about weight loss, it’s about longevity and quality of life.

I’ve been overwhelmed with what to include in this article, as there is an extraordinary amount to tackle and address when it comes to food insecurity, food deserts, food waste and nutritionally deficit diets for those who live in poverty.  But that’s exactly what The Nashville Food Project has been doing since 2011.

“Food is a reflection of everything. When we look at the problems we have with the food and poverty and lack of nutrition, it’s so complex... There are reasons people don’t have access to food, there are reasons that 40% of the food produced in the united states goes to waste and people are still hungry,” declared Elizabeth Langgle-Martin of The Nashville Food Project

What’s exemplary about TNFP is they not only give food to those who need it, they provide community gardens, garden training, a marketplace for farmers and they build community and create partnerships.  But they aren’t just handing out processed, packaged lunches. These meals are thoughtfully prepared in their kitchens, often packed with produce from their gardens.

TNFP exemplifies the idea that everyone should have access to fresh, healthy food.

In Davidson County, where Nashville resides, 17.2 percent of people are food insecure.  That is an astounding percentage. Think about this: about 1 in 6 people in the county struggle with food insecurity.  

Teri said it well: “As the ‘it’ city continues to grow, we are just furthering the divide… as our city gets more people and more prominence and more attention, we’re finding that the need is also growing a lot, so we really need to be able to scale up.”

The average amount of those who are food insecure overall in Tennessee is just below 17 percent, and those who are food insecure estimate needing about $17.24 more per week to meet their nutritional needs.

Think about how much you spend on Starbucks per week (people still go there, right?) or how much you spend when you go out to lunch during work.  For many, $17.24 seems like nothing. Chump change.  

I think this should open our eyes to what we could do with the money we do have.

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The people of TNFP know what they do best, which is growing and cooking high-quality, nutritious food.  They have built an exceptional network and community between various nonprofits, as they provide meals for the clients of other nonprofits.  By partnering with others, they are able to focus on what they specialize in while complementing other organizations’ specialties. They realize it’s difficult and almost impossible for one entity or one nonprofit to be all things to all people. 

“We are looking for our meals to reinforce and build the impact of other really important party-disrupting work that’s going on in our community so that we know our meals are having a greater impact,” Teri said adamantly, “It diminishes the barrier of hunger, it encourages participation and engagement.” 

Almost daily, I become overwhelmed with all the problems and issues that need to be addressed in America and in the world.  I think we could learn from the model they are exemplifying. Find your niche, your way of helping, and collaborate with others to accomplish incremental change for a grand all-encompassing outcome.

They also partner with grocery stores like Whole Foods, from whom they receive food three times per week to incorporate into the meals they prepare.

Restaurants such as Green Hills Grill provide food that would otherwise be wasted, like salmon “scraps” and beef.

Las Paletas brings their food scraps to TNFP for composting.

Various local farms donate portions of their crop, and solo, small-scale farmers and gardeners also often bring excess they have, just because.

The entire community is pulling together.

“That also allows us to go into our values of environmental consciousness because it’s actually shifting the way those [places] think about their food excess,” Elizabeth explained, “so when they go into making their meals at a for-profit [place] but thinking about ‘how can we reduce waste and how can we make sure this stretches to feed as many people as possible.’  It’s a mind shift.”

TNFP has a food truck to help distribute the meals they prepare, and they provide about 3,000 meals and snacks per week to emergency food shelters, ELS and after-school programs and other nonprofits and community groups.  Currently, they are implementing plans to function at an even larger capacity soon.

What first invigorated me the most about TNFP was their true connection to the food they serve through their multiple gardens, where they implement fully organic practices.  There’s something in our DNA that makes us innately crave some connection to the earth, on a gritty, physical, intimate level, even if we sometimes don’t realize it.  

They have gardens at their Woodmont and Wedgewood locations, as well as community gardens in various lower-income neighborhoods.  They also provide garden and farming space for refugees, specifically from Bhutan and Burma at this time. Through their “Growing Together” program, they provide land and a marketplace for these refugee farmers to continue their life’s work here in the states.   

The farmers use “Nashville Grown,” an online food hub for local farmers to sell their produce, and they are also beginning their first CSA program with the refugee farmers this fall.

With enthusiasm, Elizabeth said she just purchased a share in the CSA.

Elizabeth actually previously worked with Open Table, a nonprofit partner of TNFP.  She was able to see those receiving the food, and also experience the impact when they didn’t have access to such nourishment.

“[I was] working intimately with folks who are in poverty, and folks who [were] super creative and incredible in so many ways.  But just watching them struggle to get nutritious food, and watching them struggle to make bits of income, little bits of food stamps stretch, it’s always such a big part of the puzzle,” Elizabeth explained.

She said it was invigorating to see people light up when they saw food that was grown and prepared just for them. 

“[It’s] not just a meal that feeds everybody, but they feel valued and humanized in this experience,” Elizabeth asserted, and that experience is “growing, preparing and sharing the food.”

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I’ve been trying to determine how to write about this in a truly compelling way.  I feel as though I’ve just been spouting off statistics on food insecurity and describing TNFP’s model.  Of course what they do is extraordinary and life-changing, but sometimes it’s difficult for those outside this world to fully appreciate and comprehend the gravity of the issues being tackled without seeing them first hand or hearing people’s stories. 

I was unable to speak to those directly impacted due to access and privacy reasons.

But I have my story.  It’s certainly not the same as many of the folks The Nashville Food Project serves, but it’s what I have to offer.

In 2016, as some of you may know, I quit my job, ended my lease and traveled the country alone while eating on $4.23 per day (the average amount of food stamps received per person per day) while personally simulating homelessness.  I wanted to bring awareness to the fact that healthy, whole food should be available to people of all socioeconomic statuses everywhere. I wanted to determine if one could eat healthfully on such a low daily food budget. Throughout the trip, I volunteered at homeless shelters and food banks, and I camped outdoors or slept in my Prius the majority of the time.  It somewhat sounds like a fantastical adventure if you don’t think about it too thoroughly (and it was in many ways), but it was a level of difficulty I never thought I would encounter.

I’ve written about this previously, but I don’t think it can’t hurt to reiterate how it feels to subsist in such a way.  However, I don’t in any way claim to truly comprehend what it’s like to be homeless and without enough food on a consistent manner for an indeterminate time.

While embarking on this project, I was constantly searching for a place just to exist.  I was kicked out of parking lots multiple times when I just needed a quick place to rest or cook my food.  I was always searching for a bathroom and a way to shower. I was nightly searching for an area to sleep. Oftentimes I didn’t sleep much, as I spent much of the night driving aimlessly, or I was wary of my surroundings (both animals and people).  I was constantly searching for somewhere to set up my stoves and cook. It was difficult to store any kind of fresh, healthy food, as it was the middle of the summer, and everything baked in my Prius. I discovered sun-baked, goopy bananas isn’t my cup of tea, and oatmeal leftover from twelve hours ago isn’t a smart choice.  Turns out, old cooked oats can make you sick.

The lifestyle was isolating and embarrassing.  I felt gross, I smelled gross. I was gross. Showering with jugs of water can only get you so far.  I began to understand how difficult it would be to pull oneself out of the cycle of homelessness and poverty.  When you’re unshowered, exhausted and donning grimy clothes, it would be essentially impossible to get a job. I highly doubt anyone would have given me a job application or interviewed me.

The situation became more dire when my car broke down along the Oregon coast late one night.  I rode with the tow man to an auto shop, said goodbye to my car for the time being, then gathered a few things and biked to a nearby hotel.  My only food options were convenient stores, a distant Walgreens and few coastal diners. While traveling by bicycle, it was almost impossible to access affordable, healthy food, and I didn’t have my stoves to cook anything either.  This continued for a few days as they operated on my Prius. After raiding all the convenient stores, my mealtimes mainly consisted of slicing cans open with my knife and (with a make-shift spoon) eating whatever salty veggies resided inside. 

I was alone essentially the whole time.  I ate alone, I read alone, I biked alone.  Not to sound overly pathetic, but I cried alone when I thought I had made the most horrible choice by embarking on this trip.

I realized the extraordinary value in sharing a meal with others and not having the same meal every. single. day.  Living without a home-base was isolating and demeaning, and the constant struggle of searching for ways to function in normal society was mentally taxing and brought bouts of depression.

The Nashville Food Project provides a resource of community and comfort.  This nonprofit makes the clients feel humanized and appreciated. TNFP not only creates community through its partnerships with nonprofits and prepared meals, but the volunteers in the gardens and kitchens are fostering friendships and camaraderie while they work together to benefit others.

“Sometimes you see the most eclectic groups of folks [working together].  Food is a way to build community with folks you might not normally sit down with,” explained Elizabeth, with a grin.

“Food is so universal and so elemental, we all get food, we all need food, we all understand it,” Teri added.

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I’ve read articles about how just giving people food isn’t going to solve the world’s hunger problem, and I can fully understand and appreciate that.  But that’s not all TNFP is doing. They are compounding the impact of other nonprofits. They are a piece of a spiderweb-like network of powerhouse nonprofits, all lending a hand to one another, working toward a common goal to bring people out of poverty and into self-sustainability.

By contributing to the mission of TNFP, you not only give people sustenance, you are systematically moving people out of the cycle of homelessness and poverty.  Nutritious food fuels this body and mind we have on earth. The food we put inside our bodies helps us build the life we are meant to live. Food is the beginning and end of health. Are you building up your body with what you eat or are you incrementally tearing it down? We must maintain a foundation of wholesome food for ourselves and for others.

I asked Elizabeth and Teri how working for The Nashville Food Project has impacted their life.  The overarching themes were awareness and intention.  

“Now every time I clean out my fridge, [I think] I gotta be better, I gotta use this stuff, so last week I made carrot top pesto,” Teri said confidently while smiling. 

 Elizabeth piped in with a laugh, explaining it did actually taste good.

“Everything we do here is very intentional,” Teri concluded.

Various times I’ve encountered the people of TNFP, every single person has been unquestionably gracious, genuine and giving.  They are prime examples of what it means to lead a life of intention, care for our fellow humans and foster community and inclusion.

If nothing else intrigues you to contribute to The Nashville Food Project, do it for the impressive humans executing their complex work everyday.  Or at least glean some insight into ways you can implement these practices into your daily life as well.

To end with a sentimental quote to pull at your heart strings (if you have them)…

“One of the marvelous things about community is that it enables us to welcome and help people in a way we couldn't as individuals. When we pool our strength and share the work and responsibility, we can welcome many people, even those in deep distress, and perhaps help them find self-confidence and inner healing.” –Jean Vanier


http://www.feedingamerica.org/hunger-in-america/tennessee/

https://secondharvestmidtn.org/hunger/

http://frac.org/obesity-health/low-income-food-insecure-people-vulnerable-poor-nutrition-obesity

https://www.ers.usda.gov/topics/food-nutrition-assistance/food-security-in-the-us/key-statistics-graphics.aspx





Nashville Adult Literacy Council: Nashville Offbeat, March 2018 Nonprofit-of-the-month

"I get goose bumps when I see what people have overcome and where they’re headed, and the fact that they are working double overtime shifts and showing up at 9 a.m. to learn English. That commitment to me is the embodiment of human resilience,” proclaimed Kim Karesh, CEO of Nashville Adult Literacy Council (NALC).  

What would you do if you didn’t have GPS on your phone? You’d probably be in quite the pinch most of the time, eh?  I still get lost in Nashville on a daily basis. But what if you couldn’t read the street signs your GPS was guiding you toward?  

That’s a reality for some adults in Nashville.

For most of us, it seems almost unfathomable that an adult couldn’t read, especially on a basic level, but 21 percent of Tennessee’s adult population is at level one literacy rate.  That is, they are unable to read dosages on medicine bottles, street names, etc.  Typically, those at a level one literacy are toddlers to kindergarteners.

This isn’t merely a statewide issue, as approximately 32 million adults in the U.S. can’t read according to the U.S. Department of Education and National Institute of Literacy.

Since 1982, the Nashville Adult Literacy Council has been tackling this crisis.

On a recent warm Friday afternoon in Nashville, I sat outside a juice bar awaiting NALC’s CEO, Kim Karesh.  Upon arrival, she radiated energy and enthusiasm in the most genuine way. Her eyes quite literally sparkled as she spoke about NALC, and they only became wider and brighter the more she revealed.

“I told you, getting me to stop talking about this will be your issue,” she chuckled. 

Karesh informed me she was learning-disabled as a child, and I have to admit I was a little shocked.

At her school, it was against the rules to take home books, but Karesh told me there was “this girl” in her class who could already read, and Kim desperately wanted to read like her.

“I would sneak home my books to read ahead.  I would get so frustrated, and I would cry.” But her mom, who happened to be a teacher, would go over the stories with her at home.

Later, at school, when teachers asked for volunteers, Kim would raise her hand eagerly.

“I had actually memorized the whole story. I had a whole system,” Kim divulged.  

However, Kim referred to the memorization technique as a coping mechanism, and explained that this and alternate methods of coping can be seen in others with learning disabilities.

Eventually, her Mom intervened, even when the school didn’t at first believe Kim had any issues.  Her Mom was her advocate, and the resources were soon provided for Karesh. Because she had early intervention, Kim was able to tackle her struggles and harness the skills she needed at a young age.  Kim went on to be valedictorian of her class, and she holds an undergraduate and master’s degree, along with an assortment of past and present impressive titles. She indeed overcame her learning disability, though she is extraordinarily humble about her various accomplishments.

Many students of NALC didn’t have the advocacy and resources to foster the learning environment they needed.  

“That’s what I want NALC to be for students.  I want to be their resource.  I want to be their advocate. I want to be their safe place to learn,” Karesh strongly stated.

NALC has a one-on-one six-month program, in which one volunteer tutor is assigned to a single learner for a six-month commitment.  They also have a “Start Now” program in which volunteer tutors can sign up for one-hour tutor sessions with learners on the waitlist for the six-month program.  NALC has both adult American and adult immigrant English learners. There are group classes, GED classes at probation and parole offices and citizenship classes as well.

“What’s really cool about this is that most of our volunteers show up with a need.  They have a need for purpose, a need for connection. And then our students are showing up with a need for literature, and it creates this equality where you get to watch these two people fill each other up and it’s a beautiful thing to witness,” Karesh gushed.

Because I’ve been curious about being a volunteer tutor, I asked Kim about the requirements. Karesh smiled almost in a sneaky but glimmery way.

“Here are the requirements *she paused*: patience and encouragement.” She laughed.

We continued to talk about tutoring and her reason for working at NALC. (Also, just to note: Karesh tutors as well, and she tutored before she became the CEO).

“It’s that tired cliché of you get more than you give, but it almost loses its meaning when you say it that way.  When I came on board a year and a half ago and I was meeting the tutors, I would say ‘thank you, thank you for volunteering,’ and every one of them would brush me off, and be like ‘stop, you don’t understand, don’t thank me for this.’  And it took me a couple of cycles of realizing that they don’t feel like they’re giving because it’s so rewarding to be a part of this. It’s that phrase you get more than you give, but when you see it in action it takes on a whole new meaning which is really cool.”

Some fast facts:

In America…

  • About $232 billion is lost each year in healthcare costs due to low rates of literacy, as those impacted by low literacy misunderstand health information, dosages, diagnoses, etc.

  • $225 billion is lost on crime, lack of workforce productivity and loss of tax revenue due to unemployment. 

  • More than 65 percent of all state and federal inmates can be classified as low literate.

  • 43 percent of adults with the lowest literacy live in poverty.

  • Children of parents with low literacy have a 72 percent higher chance of being at the lowest literacy level as well.

This is a vicious cycle.  If you can’t read, how could you search for a job? Apply for a job?  It would be beyond difficult to fully educate yourself about health, the economy, politics, food, to obtain a driver’s license, to get in touch with far away family members.  The list is seemingly endless.

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I recently read in a book that most people don’t change their mind on matters by reading statistics and numbers.  They change their mind and form new opinions through hearing stories—genuine stories, about real, vulnerable, broken humans.  And that is all of us.

When various people asked which nonprofit I was covering this month, I could see the lack of understanding or interest in people’s eyes when I told them.  They didn’t seem to grasp the importance of the mission. Perhaps because it’s not a life-saving surgery, overcoming drug addiction or providing the necessities to survive like food and shelter.  But we do need literacy to survive in this society. 

Literacy save lives.  It creates life for us.  Literacy bonds us, as we are bound by our words and stories.  We relate through books and historical texts. Heck, we text! We email, we tweet, we hashtag everything.  Words connect us, words break us. Signs at marches and rallies bring inspiration, as well as anger. Words make us think, question and act.  We must have the ability to compose our thoughts.

Listening and speaking is key, yes, but the ability to create a summation of words and present it to others is an extraordinary necessity—an excellent power, in fact.  We must document our thoughts, ideas, opinions—our stories.

I once had an English teacher in high school say to the class, initially much to my dismay: “Mary-Margaret thinks in her writing.  That’s where she works through things.” I was at times painfully quiet in my younger years, but I discovered I could speak loudly through writing.

Karesh told me about a learner of NALC who had a doctorate in Persian literature, but could not speak English.

“This is a woman who made her life about words, and she’s in a country without language.  It would feel like prison,” Karesh said mournfully.

Everyone should have the opportunity and privilege to write, read and make their voice known—everywhere.

NALC makes this possible for all those who enter their organization.

But this nonprofit still has needs.  They have the greatest need for tutors in their Antioch location, though they still have plenty of learners on a waiting list in Nashville.  They also need supplies and funds for their learners, volunteer tutors, teachers and facilities on an on-going basis.

At NALC, each person—the learner, as well as the tutor—brings his or her needs to the table in openness, even if it takes some time to crack apart the concrete barrier to reveal the vulnerability.  I think it takes a grand amount of courage to admit we need help. The students of NALC emit this courage on a daily basis. I think we could all take a lesson from these resilient, brave humans.  

A few last words…

“I believe that helping others is our purpose, and there are few things that I can think of that can have a bigger impact than literacy,” declared Karesh.

A recent NALC student-of-the-year said, “When you can read, you can learn anything.” 

If you have the ability to use your words (and if you are reading this, you do)—use them, don’t waste them.



http://nashvilleliteracy.org/learn/

https://proliteracy.org/Resources/Adult-Literacy-Facts

https://www.creditdonkey.com/illiteracy-in-america.html

http://www.literacymidsouth.org/resources/literacy-statistics/