“Work and learn in evil days, in insulted days, in days of debt and depression and calamity. Fight best in the shade of the cloud of arrows.” Ralph Waldo Emerson

The Azteca Food Center Planning Committee, Laredo, TX
I’ve used this quote from Emerson before, and I bet you can guess when—November 2016. Yes, after Trump’s first presidential victory when the atmosphere positively reeked of doom and despair. In that post I urged others to do as I was determined to do myself—don’t wallow in defeat but stay focused on the good work we are all doing, especially that which serves others. Besides protecting the more vulnerable among us and developing a sustainable and just food system infrastructure, we must also hold all levels of government accountable for these same purposes, to which I will add preparing for the next election.
I must admit that Trump 2.0 is taking as much grit as I can muster—and the occasional Triple-X Margarita—to not drown in the trail of slime that oozes from him and his cronies. The prospects of the soon to be Felon-in-Chief running what I used to believe was the best nation on earth has awakened my once-dormant irritable bowel syndrome that even a double-dose of omeprazole can’t quell. Nevertheless, I will resist his chicanery, gird my loins for battles to come, and set my sights on 2026 and 2028. As exhausting as it can be, democracy is a job we must work at every day.
Laredo, Texas
But to live I need joy too! Kamala Harris gave me a shot of it for which I’m grateful. The kind of joy I’m talking about, however, is what I got on a recent trip to Laredo and New York City where good food, good community, and good projects were the best medicine I could get. Laredo, Texas, about which I’ve written before (Laredo Shows the Way to a Mending Wall | Mark Winne) engaged my services and those of Susie Marshall and her organization, Grow North Texas, to assist with the development of a small food store in the city’s Azteca neighborhood.
Azteca is an unusual area to say the least. Not only is it an old neighborhood of small, densely built homes, many dating back to just after the Civil War, it is largely lower income, partly due to the impact of NAFTA. Being not much more than an avocado throw from the Rio Grande and Mexico, Azteca was cut off from the rest of Laredo when the brand-new Interstate-35 came roaring across the river from the Puente International Bridge. Anything in its way was crushed or displaced including hundreds of Azteca residents. As a result of NAFTA, Laredo is the biggest inland port in North America. Millions of tons of fresh produce from Mexico pour into the U.S. without a single pound benefiting Laredo’s residents. Spiraling downward conditions sent Azteca’s last grocery store fleeing which left the neighborhood as an official food desert. Hence, the residents have expressed a fervent desire for a grocery store.
About 20 residents showed up at Canseco House, a beautiful neo-classical community building that was also the sight of a well-tended, half-acre urban garden showcasing late fall (South Texas) cabbages, okra, and collards among other veggies. Since most of the participants only spoke Spanish, we relied on simultaneous Spanish-English-Spanish translation. Our highly-able translator was quickly overwhelmed as the excited gathering unabashedly shared their food, hence, stocking preferences, management and ownership ideas, and options for how to divvy up the space—an abandoned 1,000 square feet-plus building owned by the City of Laredo. Their energy was sustained by a delicious catered lunch provided by a couple of cottage food vendors.
Three hours of hard work produced clear sets of preferences for the mercadito—local, organic, fresh food; no candy, chips or tobacco! Most of the space would be dedicated to a small, high-quality food store with a small space reserved for a prepared food kitchen and meeting area. And ownership tastes leaned toward using an existing non-profit organization with a strong community advisory board. As productive as all their work was, I was buoyed by the energy in the room and the people’s desire to never settle for the status quo. Nothing can stop an ignited and united community!
New York City
The journey continued on to New York City where I strolled down memory lane while taking in the present-day sites and scenery. I began the morning of my first day knoshing a toasted sesame bagel with smoke-cured lox and cream cheese at Russ and Daughters on East Houston. It was a bagel so perfect, so unlike anything I could buy in New Mexico that I nearly fell to my knees in gratitude.
My next stop at the Union Square Farmers’ Market netted scones, pears, apple cider, beeswax candles, and a bottle of “locally grown” Rye Whiskey from Orange County. New York. The market’s atmosphere and the vendor vibes were warm and friendly in spite of the December rain. By contrast, some 30 years ago, I can remember Tony Manetta, the market manager, sternly warning the men to carry their wallets in their pants’ front pocket because the market’s pick pockets were the best in the city. A few minutes later he was scolding a pair of elderly matrons who had lost control of their two pedigree dogs which were about to tear each other to shreds. Through Tony’s muscular intervention, he held the snarling animals apart with a leash in each hand. Call me twisted, but sometimes I miss those rough and tumble days.

Maritza Wellington-Owens and Me
This brings me to my initial reason to be among “The City’s fiery parcels all undone.” It was to celebrate the retirement of one of my all-time favorite food organizer heroes, Maritza Wellington-Owens to whom I dedicated two-full pages in my first book Closing the Food Gap. Starting in 1993, Maritza, in a state of benign ignorance regarding farmers’ markets and fueled by a hard-edged passion for justice—receiving a meager amount of assistance from me—started one of the New York’s first farmers’ markets largely dedicated to serving its impoverished communities. Until then, the world-famous GreenMarkets (now “GrowNYC”), of which Union Square was their first (1975) and still flagship market, was dedicated to providing profitable direct marketing opportunities to the then shrinking numbers of the region’s farmers. Although noble and worthy intentions, that goal left out giant swaths of the city’s low-income neighborhoods imprisoned in food deserts. Maritza’s vision, embedded in the non-profit she founded, Harvest Home Farmers’ Markets, eventually led to the creation of 21 farmers’ markets later consolidated to 14 markets operating today in places where people need them the most.
Several farmers made a two-hour trek on a rainy New York night to the retirement party’s venue just south of Union Square. I spoke with Joe Morgiewicz, who with his two brothers and mother, drove in from Goshen, New York where they’ve operated their family farm for five generations. Joe told me they have been working closely with Maritza for years now and distributing some of their 400-acres worth of produce at Harvest Home markets as well as into New York State’s farm to school programs. When I asked what role subsidies play in New York City sales, he said, “They’re huge. Well over half our sales at Harvest Home markets are WIC, senior, or Health Bucks (New York City’s SNAP coupon program that incentivizes healthy eating).” His brother Don gave an eloquent toast in Maritza’s honor noting humorously that “we’ve had our disagreements which we’ve always managed to work out. In spite of those moments, we are strong supporters of Maritza’s mission, after all, she actually spent time at our farm to learn how we produce food!”
But one conversation reminded me of what makes Harvest Home stand out. Helen, a Black woman in her 60s, had been volunteering at one of the markets. Inevitably, she started buying, learning how to prepare, and eating a lot more local fruits and vegetables. “For the first time in years, I recently got off my medications. Eating well was my new ‘medicine’,” she proudly told me, and with a grin and a twinkle in her eye said, “I told my doctor I don’t need him anymore!” When access to healthy food is provided; when the means are available to purchase; and when educational support is part of the package, many small miracles happen. That’s what Maritza started, nurtured, and is now being sustained by Harvest Home.
I had a few moments to chat with their new executive director, Johann DeJesus, and the board president, Patrick Holder, who’s an architect when he’s not volunteering with Harvest Home. Both of them acknowledged the extraordinary leadership and courage that Maritza had demonstrated over the years to make Harvest Home the second (GrowNYC being the first) largest farmers’ market network in the city. But both of them know that simply walking in her footsteps is not enough, and that they are excited by the upcoming opportunity to reimagine and reinspire Harvest Home’s work, especially in light of the ever-soaring dietary health needs of New York’s large lower income communities. To that end, they used the evening’s celebration to launch the “Maritza Wellington-Owens Legacy Fund” as a way to broaden and enhance Harvest Home’s work. I would urge anyone who’s passionate about supporting people-of-color-led organizations that target the most challenging community health needs to seriously consider contributing to this fund MWO Legacy Fund — Harvest Home Farmers Markets.
As the evening was drawing to a close, and apparently not knowing that I was half Irish, I was asked to give a toast. Besides heaping richly deserved praise on Maritza, I stressed two things. The first, which could be said for the Azteca residents as well, is that “in insulted days” like we are rapidly approaching, we must protect the most vulnerable among us and ensure that their needs are met. And secondly, as much as we must see to the first task, we must hold our government accountable, never let them off the hook, don’t back down, and insist with every ounce of strength we have that social and economic justice is done.
Under “a cloud of arrows,” however, we found our joy. The locally sourced dinner lovingly prepared by Touchef Coupet, accompanied by some good New York wine, set the stage for speechifying and dancing. As the DJ brought the music up and found the right mix, people worked their dance moves, synchronized their steps, and found a common beat of celebration. “Beauty is a defiance of authority,” said William Carlos Williams, and the beauty of people yearning for healthy food and communities is unstoppable.
My hope is that more small independent community-focused ,farm fresh grocery stores will emerge from this “dooming” situation.
I wish I was there to enjoy the sesame bagel with salmon and cream cheese, my favorite choice! it has to be a New York bagel!