The Healing Properties of Victory Gardens

I was supposed to be in California over spring break visiting Terry Higa’s family in person. I followed the news obsessively for weeks and tried to convince myself that this Covid-19 virus wouldn’t turn into a pandemic. I skyped with the family several times, but a few days before I was supposed to leave, I knew the trip was off. Albuquerque Public Schools announced they were closing until further notice and people lost their minds. Meat, canned goods, toilet paper, and paper towels flew off the shelves. I thought about cancelling my leave time, but I decided to take time off and plant my vegetable garden. It’s a little early, but gardening cheers me up and takes my mind off my worries.

I spent the weekend prepping the soil in the front yard, window box, raised beds, and various containers. A few years ago, I wrote a blog for the University of New Mexico Grower’s Market about urban gardening. Up until then, I dabbled a little in gardening, but I decided to go all out and I experimented with planting squash, tomatoes, carrots, peas, lettuce, onions, and various herbs in every nook and cranny of my tiny yard. I grew vegetables and herbs in the ground, in hanging pots, baskets, and anywhere I could find a bit of spare earth. To my surprise, I had quite a bit of success. Every year from spring through the fall I grow veggies and herbs in every inch of my yard.

Monday morning I went to the store to pick up some groceries. If I wasn’t going out of town, I needed to replenish the pantry. I grabbed a cart and walked into a surreal scene. It looked like deliveries were delayed by weeks. I walked up and down the aisles, picking up the few items I could find. I stopped in front of the dairy section and stared at the empty case. A soft voice said, “I haven’t seen anything like this since the war.” In front of me was a lovely silver-haired lady. “The war? Oh. Yes, you mean World War II.” She looked at the empty dairy case. “We were rationed, you know. We had ration stamps and there were things we couldn’t buy.” I’m a little taken aback. I’m writing a historical biography and I’ve been reading all about rationing. What are the chances? “My mother told me about rationing. It’s interesting to see the food choices people make,” I reply. She stands up a little straighter and pulls her shoulders back, “We did it to show our patriotism and loyalty to our country. This is different. People only care about themselves.” I know she’s right. Well, maybe not about all people, but it feels like that right now. We say goodbye and I walk away feeling even more depressed than when I came in.

Walking down the empty canned vegetable aisle, it hits me. I’ll write a blog about the Victory Gardens! During WWII, the government encouraged Americans to grow their own food in order to allow more food for the troops fighting overseas. The Office of Price Administration (OPA) issued the Emergency Price Control Act on January 30, 1942. Commodities like food and gas were rationed to prevent Americans from hoarding. The ration stamps were classified as A, B, and C stamps and those classifications pertained to gasoline allowances. My grandparents received C stamps because they owned a ranch and were allowed a little bit more gasoline than say, someone living in the heart of Casper.

Rationing was different for Japanese Americans During WWII. After being forced from their homes and relocated, they were sent to work on farms outside internment camps for a pittance. Public outcry over rationing, or what was seen as the lack of rationing of Japanese American prisoners, led Congress to pressure prisoners to become self-sustaining. They were expected to grow as much of their own food as possible. Despite being unjustly incarcerated, they proudly and successfully did just that.

Japanese Americans built beautiful, thriving, vegetable gardens under some of the most difficult growing conditions. The soil in most camps was arid and water supplies weren’t always readily available. They succeeded in growing food where people thought it wasn’t possible to grow. In doing so, they improved camp menus.

Climate varied from camp to camp which resulted in different planting and harvesting seasons. A network of exchange was established and camps that were in need of fresh vegetables, could rely on another camp for food.

The gardens were also a way for Japanese Americans to build communities that reflected the environment from which they were forced to leave. Ornamental gardens as well as vegetable gardens were constructed.

Photo above from: https://www.greenamerica.org/blog/reclaiming-victory-gardens-our-racist-history

Pool in "Pleasure Park" Manzanita Relocation Center, California.  Photography by Ansel Adams, source Library of Congress. 

I’ve been writing about food ways this semester and I think I understand now that the gardens were more than just a means of producing healthy food. The typical staples most people ate were not available in the camps. Western, processed food made many of the internees very ill, but the damage to internees was more than physical. They ate their meals in large mess halls instead of at a family dinner table. Families were often separated and ate at different times. This created a disconnect between families and their culture. I’d like to believe the victory gardens brought families and the community together and helped them cope with the loss and sorrow they felt. I have no way of knowing if it did, but I encourage anyone who does know, to contact me. I would be happy to post your story on the website.

Writing about food ways this semester also got me thinking about our current situation. The Covid-19 pandemic is devastating in itself, but it has created panic and hoarding. It’s unfortunate that people are hoarding things like toilet paper, paper towels, and disinfecting wipes, but hoarding food has a devastating effect on people who are low-income or who recently lost their jobs. You can’t buy 50 pounds of beef to stock pile in your refrigerator if you don’t have the money to buy 50 pounds of beef!

Food banks can barely keep up with people who are food insecure and farmers are dumping perfectly good produce to rot in the sun and milk is dumped into manure heaps. They rely on restaurants to buy their commodities, and restaurants are closed. Don’t get me started on this one. I could go on a serious rant about why these farmers aren’t calling local foodbanks and offering them this food. I’ll leave that for another blog.

I’m trying to do my part and grow my own produce. For me, patriotism is all about being a humanitarian. I hope that by growing some of my own food, more food will be available to those who are food insecure. I wish I had enough land to grow food for everyone in my community! If you have a little plot of garden or even some random containers lying around, I encourage you to give growing vegetables or herbs a shot.

Stay well, wash your hands often, smile under that mask even if nobody can see it, and reach out to the people you love. Hug those vegetables you’re growing and share, share, share! We need community more than ever right now.

Below are pics of a few veggies and herbs I’m growing. Desert gardening may not look beautiful, but it’s do-able.