Neighborhood Tool Share Program

On the block where I grew up, people take their lawns seriously. Not too long after the grass starts taking back its color, people migrate from their living rooms to the front yard laden with visions of perfectly arranged beds and and immaculately mowed turf. The vigor each neighbor brings to his and her work gives me hope that people still yearn to connect with the land, however trite and controlled lawn care may seem.

Yet as the years have passed and the consumerism of the front yard has grown, I find myself increasingly disturbed by how much stuff people buy to for such a small space. If you try to keep up with the Joneses your gardening shed ends up looking like a modern day arms cache with dozens of weapons to fight weeds, contain hedges, regiment grass, and trench beds. Even as I write this I can hear three separate lawn mowers whirring in a half block. Only a few months ago I would find practically the same thing as each household dragged out a personal snowblower to scrape an even smaller piece of ground.

Spending time in my own yard, I won’t deny that many of these tools are incredibly helpful. Of course I could take the greenest option and do away with the grass and put in native no-maintenance plants. But even that will require some tools. I just wish we didn’t all have to buy the same tools. Really, I just want everyone to share.

Pooling garden tools might seem like a novel idea. Historically, sharing has defined community since the times when people first gathered to share in the work and rewards of harvesting crops. The fact that communities persist attests to our ability to share ideas, aspirations and resources.

Though our individualistic consumer culture begs us to make islands of our suburban homes fully equipped with every imaginable convenience, we shouldn’t fall victim to the belief we are actually that independent. Interdependence is a strength fortified by necessity. You can’t help but share things like air and water so why not try and share relatively trivial things like lawnmowers and shovels that only intermittently come out of the garage? Garrett Harding warns us against the tragedy of the commons, but tools held in common under a collective-care agreement stand a better chance at benefiting all than digging our graves.

Talking with my father, I am amazed to hear a story of a neighborhood sharing tools in the 60’s. In one case, he told of a design professor in Eugene, Oregon who organized a neighborhood to buy an empty lot on the block. Using shared tools, everyone on the block designed and built a new house, eventually welcoming in a new family to their industrious community.

One of the biggest successes in tool sharing is the Atlanta Community Toolbank. Started in 1992 by a group of concerned citizens hoping to offer no-cost home repairs for senior citizens, the Toolbank as grown to assisted “more than 53,000 volunteers in 2005, equipping them to serve more than 830 community projects.” By providing local community service projects access to their fully maintained tool library, they allow non-profits to save on overhead costs and spend more time helping the people.

On a smaller scale, citizens have organized sharing programs in cohabitation “villages” and even regular old neighborhoods. In our own hometown of Northfield, Minnesota Joey Robison and Brian Conlan successfully organized a toolbank with nearby residents to cut down on the redundancy of everyone buying the same stuff.

Organizing your own toolbank is as easy as holding a meeting, making a list of tools and trading phone numbers. Starting from the Phinney Neighborhood Association, Seattle’s nationally acclaimed Well Home Program grew to serve the whole city, offering tools and training to low-income people throughout the city. Thus, what begins as a pet project might evolve into the next best thing for your town.

Though starting up the toolshare program is relatively easy, keeping the program running successfully requires some planning. Funding, maintenance, liability, and return enforcement are all issues that will probably arise. In his 2004 article about tool-sharing Joe Nolan offered the following checklist for would be sharers:

  • Hold a meeting to find out people’s needs and available resources.,
  • Determine the scope of the program; it’s often best to start with simpler hand tools.
  • Determine storage—will tools be stored in homes or in a common space?
  • Determine how costs will be covered for tool purchases and ongoing maintenance.
  • Develop a clear set of lending, repair and tool-return rules.
  • Develop a list of “experts” who can share skills.
  • Organize a system to track checkout and return of tools.
  • Assign responsibility for maintenance and repair.

If you have further questions about tool-sharing, the following links offer some more background and websites of successful toolbank programs.

Links:

Worm Composting

Red WormsWorm composting is a great way to recycle your food waste into the soil, rather than burying its nutrients in a landfill never to be seen again. The red wigglers used in vermicomposting will eat their bodyweight in food scraps each day leaving behind nutrient-rich liquids and worm castings, both of which make great natural fertilizers. Compared to traditional heat composting, this method emits almost no smell because the worms consume the food before it rots. In other words, you can compost inside!

Pre-made worm bins are available, but a simple plywood box with holes drilled in the bottom will work perfectly–I built mine with scrap wood and a power drill in twenty minutes. Other than that, all you need is newspaper, dirt, food-scraps and worms.

The links below provide all the information you will need make your bin, buy your worms and start composting. For reference, here’s some important info garnered from the resources:

  • Worm BinTo correctly size your bin measure your total food waste for a week. Allow 1 square foot of floorspace in your bin per pound of food (if you produce seven pounds a week, you need seven square feet, so a 3.5 feet long by 2 feet wide bin is perfect). Whatever length and width, the bin should be 8-12 inches tall.
  • You need about 2 pounds of worms for every 1 pound of food waste produce per day. If you built your bin the correct size, it should control the population according to this ratio. If you can’t find or buy enough worms at first, grow the population by incrementally feeding them more until you’re able to put in all your weekly food waste without food rotting and getting smelly.
  • Use either Eisenia foetida (commonly known as red wiggler, brandling, or manure worm) or Lumbricus rubellus
  • Keep worms IN your bin! In many places these worms are an invasive species so place screen over drainage holes and separate out all worms when harvesting castings.
  • To avoid smells, don’t overload your bin.
  • Worms prefer to temperatures 59°-77° F and will tolerate 33°-86° F; Shelter them from hot sun and cold nights.
  • Do feed worms vegetable and fruit remains; coffee and tea grounds and filters; moldy bread; grains and cereals.
  • Don’t feed worms meat, dairy products, fats, oils, non-biodegradable materials or pet wastes.

Resources

General Overview:Table Worm Composter

Step-by-step Guides:

Buying Worms:

Worm Bins:

Beyond Organic - Agricultural Standards for Sustainability

When it comes to food, standards, and sustainability, most people think of the USDA Organic program. However, while the Organic standard honorably moves away from heavy agrochemical use, it often says very little about sustainability. Now, for instance, you can buy organic produce at Wall-Mart, finding items from as far away as China. Even the farms themselves have changed in character from the small diversified operations of thirty years ago to massive monocultural acreages. This is not to say good locally-grown organic food doesn’t exist, nor should it imply an absence of sustainable organic producers. Merely, we must accept that organic does not necessarily mean sustainable.

Many consumers have already made the realization that organic isn’t always best. A growing number of shoppers choose local foods before looking at organics. Not only does this support local economies but it saves a considerable amount of fossil fuel in transportation. Meanwhile, other indicators of moral food like Fairtrade certification and free-range labels have enabled people to conscientiously fill their grocery bags. Reasons for choosing these products over conventional fare range from animal rights considerations to personal health concerns, but generally they reflect a growing trend of consumers pursuing the full cost the products they buy. In other words, cost-wise shoppers are turning into earth-wise ones who prefer supporting socially responsible, environmentally friendly producers.

The simplest way to know your food is to head to the farm. Taking time to know the land and the farmers who cultivate it offers invaluable insight into what agricultural sustainability means, and just as often reinvigorates people’s passion for organically-grown local food. Yet knowing how sustainable the local vegetable garden really is can be intimidating, even to the trained eye. Because keeping the land healthy does not rely on a generic equation of inputs and outputs, and rather requires more subtle adaptation to a farms individual traits, assessing overall sustainability can involve considerable subjectivity. Moreover, the complexity of modern scientific measurement makes understanding things like a farm’s impact on nearby riparian habitats unaccessible to most people.

Sustainable Agriculture certification programs look to assuage the uncertainty involved in grading farms. Used as a marketing tool, they offer consumers assurance about their products and farmers guidance in the field. The success of the USDA organic market, which has grown 20% annually over the last seven years (OTA, 2008), shows the potential for voluntary agriculture standards. However, there is yet a national sustainable agriculture program analogous to the National Organic Program.

Responding to shortcomings of organic certification, farmers organized local and regional certification programs. For example, twelve Montana farmers recently dropped their USDA Organic certification and started the Montana Sustainable Growers Union, marketing their food under the “Homegrown” label (Levaux, 2007). In their ten point pledge they promise consumers to refrain from using synthetic agrochemicals, genetically modified organisms, animal hormones and antibiotics, while implementing sustainable land management practices, local marketing, fair wages and sanitary post-harvest practices. To keep everyone honest, each farm is inspected annually.

Attempting to fill the national void in sustainable agriculture standards, The American National Standards Institute (ANSI) is developing a voluntary standard for sustainability called –don’t hold your breath–the Sustainable Agriculture Practice Standard For Food, Fiber, and Biofuel Crop Producers and Agricultural Product Handlers and Processors (PDF, 127p pages). At the moment, “stakeholders” are reviewing the standard which promises to cover “the entire agricultural product supply chain, including suppliers, seed providers, growers, processors, distributors, retailers, and end-users” (Raster, 2008). If the project succeeds, the ANSI standard would likely shape if not simply become the default guidelines for a federally mandated sustainable agriculture program.

In any of the certification schemes, success relies on trust. No doubt the local food movement has illustrated this as people confidently support food with a face over the generic USDA Organic label; seemingly it’s easier to trust your neighbor than a distant government body. Since certification requires considerable effort, and in many cases considerable financial investment, producers must know they have a market for their sustainable goods. Generally speaking this task seems straightforward: the certifying agency should make realistic and significant claims about the sustainability of its standard and the farmers should follow through with the promised product. However, as many have watched the National Organic Program erode in its relevency to sustainability, we’re best to read into whatever new label we find on our food.

If you are lucky enough to live near a grocer who sympathizes with sustainability, you are probably already used to seeing numerous labels alongside your food. At our local coop in Northfield they make a special effort to point out both local and organic producers. If you hang around long enough, chances are that you’ll actually run into the people who farmed your dinner. Get those people talking and you will be amazed that your food had such a good story to tell.

My devotion to sustainable food derives from these very stories. When I buy USDA organic I can proudly tell the guests about how their meal didn’t require any pesticides or herbicides. When I buy local produce I can tell an even better story about a local economy and a hardworking farmer. Maybe if I had a sustainability sticker to shop by I could get used to telling stories about lively topsoils, clean rivers, and a stable climate.

Resources