Organic No-op

It's not easy opening a co-op in Strawberry Mansion.

by Andrew Thompson

Andrew Thompson HEALTH HELL: The selection at a bodega in Strawberry Mansion. A neighborhood group is trying to bring better food options to the area.

[ cautionary tales ]

In early 2007, the East Park Revitalization Alliance (EPRA), a community nonprofit in Strawberry Mansion, decided to tackle the nutrition vacuum in the neighborhood, one of Philly's poorest. A produce stand comes to an adjacent neighborhood, but only once a week, and only during the growing season. To really get any food besides the vehicles for salt, fat and sugar sold at bodegas, residents had to travel to the Save-A-Lot at 28th and Dauphin — a considerable distance for some — and even then, says EPRA director Suku John, "It's nasty, it smells, the produce is rotten." 

The group decided to open a co-op packed with organic, locally grown produce and environmentally friendly products in the middle of Strawberry Mansion. But the further the plan progressed, the longer the queue of obstacles seemed to reach: People in the neighborhood couldn't or wouldn't afford to spend the membership fees necessary to join a co-op; organic anything was far too expensive; and foundations offering money to the market urged EPRA to move the store down to Girard so as to attract wealthier Fairmounters and remain viable.

In essence, it was proving really hard to bring nutritious food to a poor neighborhood.

The EPRA's John, a man of Indian descent with a long black ponytail and a full, rough beard, is at once supremely knowledgeable about food issues and aware of the limitations of addressing them in areas like Strawberry Mansion, where the 2000 median income was $14,775.

"There are all these great people working in the city to educate people on [food] issues," says John. "But unfortunately, they're working with more educated classes."

And so the community activists have switched gears: Instead of a co-op, they plan to open a nonprofit community market named Mother Dot's (in honor of a local jazz singer). Certified organic food might be offered, but not exclusively.

"A co-op is deemed as sort of a thing of privilege" by people in the area, says Miranda Hitzemann, a member of Mother Dot's board. In fact, the board surveyed neighbors about the possibility of a co-op, she says. "They just thought, Why can't we be like anyone else and just have a store?"

Of all the surveys completed so far, residents' top preference is for a plain, no-frills supermarket, says Hitzemann. And indeed, the effort to bring such a store to the area goes back almost a decade. The most concerted attempt comes from the West Girard Supermarket Coalition, which has tried since 2007 to entice a developer to open a store on the large vacant lot on 31st and Girard. (Full disclosure: I briefly worked for the Coalition's parent group, Girard Coalition, in 2007.) Westrum Development, which built a massive suburban-like housing development in Brewerytown, has indicated it would support such a store.

The idea behind Mother Dot's is to bring in something smaller, with fewer barriers to entry. Although that might be accomplished in other areas by opening a farmers market, focus group studies conducted by the Philadelphia Urban Food and Fitness Alliance last fall found that such markets are considered too expensive by many in the city, the Italian Market being an exception.

Co-ops have succeeded in the city in less wealthy areas, but even Glenn Bergman, general manager of Weavers Way Co-op, which has locations in Mount Airy and West Oak Lane, admits that trying to introduce a co-op to one of the poorest areas of the city, "doesn't work. The problem is people who don't understand or are incapable of investing — it's hard to understand the concept. I think there's a big learning curve that has to happen. And I'm not sure how to get over it." Weavers Way considered opening a co-op in Strawberry Mansion a few years ago but abandoned the idea.

The only reason Mother Dot's will be able to offer decent produce to begin with is its nonprofit status, which will allow all revenues to be put back into the business, says John. Since the invisible hand hasn't found a way to bring food to Strawberry Mansion, the only real alternative is an act of charity.

"There are very few people thinking of food-access issues in neighborhoods like this," says John. "It just makes our work a little harder."

(andrew.thompson@citypaper.net)