Missing Color Among Colorful Foods

During the warmer months, Indiana farmers’ markets offer a vivid rainbow of ripe vegetables and fruits. Propped up in crates, boxes and baskets is an astonishing diversity of tempting edibles grown by Hoosier farmers all over the state.

For many consumers, these markets are a prime opportunity to meet the Hoosier farmers, to ask questions and become, if not friends, at least regular customers. It’s a simple idea, the commercial opportunity to give and take while gleaning knowledge about best gardening practices, tastes and even recipes. But while every color of the edible rainbow is represented among the merchandise, nearly all of the farmers are white. The lack of diversity among farmers startles even the most ardent market-goer.

“I would say there isn’t diversity. [The markets] tend to be either Caucasian or just non-minority,” says Vivian Muhammad, a co-founder of The Elephant Gardens, a community vegetable farm in Indianapolis. “Still, we have to consider the fact that the majority of farmers are white, owning 90 to 98 percent of the farmland. Blacks and Hispanics own less land, but there is a kind of new groundswell of urban growth with these minority growers.”

Indy Food Council (IFC) issued a “State of the Food Report” in 2018 for Marion County that confirms Muhammad’s statements. The document, sponsored by Butler University and Purdue Extension, states that African Americans represent 2.2 percent of the area’s farmers with only five farms. It lists only two Latino growers and one Native American; Asians have zero representation. Caucasians own more than 98 percent of planted acreage.

This isn’t only a Hoosier issue. Nationwide, according to the 2012 U.S. Agricultural Census, Black farmers number 1.4 percent of growers and other groups even less. During the 1920s, nearly 50 years after the Civil War and the emancipation of almost 4 million slaves, African Americans accounted for roughly half of the farmers in the United States, mostly throughout the South.

The weekly Original Farmers Market at Indianapolis’s City Market runs from May into early fall, midday each Wednesday. It’s an opportunity for the downtown public to stock up on the week’s groceries while buying a fresh, tasty lunch. Community growers and retailers sell vegetables and fruit, plus home sundries such as dog biscuits, CBD oils and soaps. Local vendors such as Barnhouse Farms hawk their handcrafted goat milk cleansers next to their heirloom crops featuring carrots, herbs and lettuces. A few tents down, Redwine Family Farms, a purveyor based northwest of Noblesville, touts spices and gourmet salts, along with hormone-free poultry.

While every color of the edible rainbow is represented among the merchandise, nearly all of the farmers are white. The lack of diversity among farmers startles even the most ardent market-goer.

And yet, with all the mixes of food and shoppers clamoring for natural products, almost none of the merchants are people of color. Their absence is felt.

“I was privy to a downtown Indy research study,” said Stevi Stoesz, former executive director for both the Original Farmers’ Market and the historic Indianapolis City Market. “The company was charged with interviewing different residents in Indianapolis, including some of the older neighborhoods. Black people felt like they didn’t belong in the markets. I’ve always thought of our farmers’ market as a very community-driven and welcoming destination. Through this study, we learned that maybe they’re not felt welcomed in it. I wondered why that is. As a food destination, we certainly must make sure that we represent our neighbors, residents and customers.”

Inside the historic building, housing the market, workers and owners hail from an assortment of backgrounds such as Mexican (The Tamale Place), Greek (The Grecian Garden) and Middle Eastern (Ameri Middle Eastern Cuisine). Employees throughout embody the same melting pot flavors they serve to their varied clientele. But still, no Black-owned farms tending to self-owned kiosks.

Open each year from spring to fall, Garfield Park Farmers’ Market takes a proactive approach in creating a diverse climate for both vendors and customers, says co-founder Ashley Brooks. With experience in opening restaurants and butchering at a local specialty market, she started the family-focused marketplace in 2017 with business partner Julia Woody.

“Part of our mission was to focus on bringing in diversity with our vendors and customers, making sure that we are inclusive so that everyone feels welcome,” Brooks says. “Our vendors know that it is part of our principle. We strived for and achieved over 50 percent of women-owned businesses. While I don’t know the exact percentage of Black-owned businesses necessarily, we do have people of color who are vending their products.”

Brooks observes the minority-owned businesses tend to be not farmers but crafters, which are the issues raised by Muhammad. As mentioned by Muhammad, people of color aren’t selling their farm products at the venues because, simply, there aren’t that many. “If 90 percent of the state is white farmers owning the land, then that’s going to be pretty much expected at the markets,” she says. “Homecrafts fit the farmers’ market criteria. It’s these items such as soap makers, jewelry makers and other handmade things where you are going find more of a variety of people.”

The Indiana Historical Bureau says that from 1820 to 1850 almost 30 African American farming communities existed, mostly throughout the central and southern regions. Census figures from that era gave farming and farm laborer as a core occupation for Blacks over that of a barber or domestic servant. The number dwindled after the adoption in 1850 of Article XIII of the Indiana State Constitution, which stated “No negro or mulatto shall come into, or settle in the State, after the adoption of this Constitution.”. In 1866, and after the Civil War, the 13th Amendment added to the U.S. Constitution and its passage rendered he state’s provision unconstitutional.

“As a food destination, we certainly must make sure that we represent our neighbors, residents and customers.” —Stevi Stoesz

Brooks and Muhammad both comment that they started their market and gardens respectively to combat food deserts. A food desert’s definition, by the USDA, is “an area where 40 percent of the residents have low incomes and live more than one mile from a grocery store.” According to the Office of Indianapolis Mayor Joe Hogsett, nearly 19.4 percent of city residents fit the definition of living in a desert or are food insecure. That makes one out of every five Indianapolis residents.

Muhammad observes, “The number one thing we should be doing is training more urban farmers, particularly African Americans. The second part is a farmers’ market helping [the growers] to establish new venues in areas that need it the most.”

Near the busy intersection of Kessler and Keystone in the Glendale neighborhood, the year-round weekly Broad Ripple’s Farmers’ Market presents opportunities for growers and consumers to meet. Visitors with canvas totes hop from tent to kiosk buying vegetables from a number of Indiana farmers and purveyors. It’s noticeable that the farmers and sellers are almost all Caucasian as are the majority of customers shopping, except for a few mixed-race couples meandering between stalls. The city of Indianapolis population is 61 percent white and 31 percent Black, according to Indy.gov. The remainder includes those who identify as Asian, Latin or other, including multiple ethnicities. However, the markets don’t represent the diversity of the urban landscape.

“I think there is a lot of trauma around Black farmers, their direct work and the infrastructure,” says Victoria Beaty, executive director of Growing Places Indy. “Getting land and creating a farm start-up is expensive. [Additionally] there is a barrier between Blacks and the USDA.”

Beaty references Pigman vs. Glickman, a landmark legal case accusing the Department of Agriculture of racist practices. “Because of these historical practices, Blacks, across the board, are fearful.”

For two and a half years, Beaty, a former marketing and public relations professional, has overseen Growing Places Indy, leading it into new areas for continued expansion. Under her guidance, the nonprofit branched out into a winter market at Circle City Industrial Complex along with yoga workshops and farm stands throughout Indy during the city’s warmer months, allowing customers to purchase locally grown produce.

“We need to be representative of our communities and are working toward that goal,” says Stoesz. “It’s baby steps and not leaps and bounds. We need the baby-steps approach on who we attract, where are they and how do we appeal to a more diverse vendor base. We want to be welcoming to all communities. It’s imperative.”