From Farming Veggies to Farming Ideas: Social Innovation Through Urban Agriculture
Publication Date: January 3, 2012
By Debra Blum
for the William Penn Foundation
Photos courtesy
of Greensgrow

Mary Seton Corboy, well-known in the
urban-agriculture world for running a pioneering farm on a city block in
Philadelphia, will argue that she is neither a pioneer nor a farmer.
“I backed into this when I thought all I was doing
was starting a little business to sell lettuce,” she says in her customarily
blunt talk.
Over time, though, that little lettuce operation,
begun in 1997 by Corboy and her then-business partner, Tom Sereduk, transformed
her into a nationally recognized leader and admired innovator in urban farming.
Sereduk bowed out early in the start-up, but Corboy persevered, turning a
vacant lot once the site of a galvanized steel plant into a vibrant enterprise
bringing fresh food, flowers, and locally-produced goods to hundreds of city
dwellers.
Today, Greensgrow runs a nursery, farm stand, and
a 600-member Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) program that together bring
in annual revenues of nearly $1 million. The money sustains the farm’s business
operations – managed by as many as two-dozen employees during the busiest
seasons -- and helps pay for Greensgrow’s community projects aimed at making
healthy food available to low-income residents. Greensgrow’s site, hemmed in by
rowhomes and metal-gated businesses, also showcases sustainable farming methods
like composting, bee-raising, and converting used cooking oil into biodiesel
fuel.
Inside its eight-foot-high chain-link fence,
Greensgrow is a homey hodge-podge of hand-built, colorfully painted structures
– greenhouses, a solar-powered composting toilet, a chicken coop, an outdoor
demonstration kitchen and more. A few blocks away in a local church is
Greensgrow‘s Kensington Community Kitchen, turning out the farm’s own
value-added products, like sauces and jams, and incubating other local food
entrepreneurs.
Greensgrow grows plants, flowers and a couple
thousand pounds of fruits and vegetables each year at its main one-acre site
and two other smaller plots around the city, and it gathers even more produce
from other area farms to sell at its twice-a-week market. The organization also
runs classes on gardening and cooking, workshops on land re-use and urban
farming techniques, and all sorts of special projects, like a food truck it
regularly deploys to the poorest neighborhoods in nearby Camden, N.J.
The organization has received a handful of grants from the William Penn Foundation and other philanthropies during its lifespan, but part of what makes Greensgrow's story interesting is its emphasis on a diverse range of revenues, and its lack of reliance on philanthropic support.
At the center of it all is Corboy, 54, who at once
appears totally amazed and completely blasé about the micro-world of food and
community she has created. At the start, she says, the original plan was simply
about supply and demand. Sereduk, a chef, and Corboy, a former chef working as
the caretaker of an estate, knew plenty of area restaurants increasingly keen
on cooking with fresh and local ingredients. The pair found the $150-a-month
derelict lot in the neighborhood of Kensington and started growing lettuce
hydroponically (a growing process that requires nutrient-rich water, but no
soil) and delivering it freshly picked to kitchens around the city. Corboy
points out that it was circumstance – the fact that the site was so
environmentally compromised that traditional planting was not an option – not
“revolutionary thinking” that led to hydroponics. Over time, they added
tomatoes, then flowers, and other produce planted on raised beds.
When neighbors began to show interest in
Greensgrow, the group opened up its gates to the community in a variety of
ways, inviting people in for tours and sponsoring neighborhood gatherings. When
would-be urban farmers, urban-agriculture advocates, and community-development
folks from around the country began to notice Greensgrow, it opened its gates
even wider, positioning itself as a demonstration site for developing a
profitable, sustainable, urban, green business.
Here, Corboy talks about what it has meant to turn
a toxic slab of concrete into an exemplary urban farm; why nonprofits need a
business plan; and how not everybody wants to eat kale.
Let’s start
with the big picture: Urban agriculture is often evoked these days as the
answer to so much of what ails our nation’s cities, like poor health among
residents. Do you agree that urban farms are the answer?
Urban ag has parts of some answers, but it’s not the answer. It can be used as a conduit
to teach people about food. It can create access in communities. It can create
healthy, green spaces. Community spaces. It can create jobs. It can create a
body of knowledge. It can help rural farmers by being a liaison with the urban
consumer who lets the rural grower know that the taste of the consumer is changing
and they are looking for different things. It is one of many things that could
lead to a change in the food scenario in our country. Having educated consumers
and farmers, whether they be urban or rural, can lead to changes in food
consumption and therefore also food-growing practices.
Are you
talking just about the high-end consumers looking for that latest “it”
vegetable and the farmers who are growing those, or about the food habits and
needs of other urban dwellers, like immigrants and low-income people?
It’s been un-PC to say, but urban farms and farm
markets and other urban food efforts sometimes look like they are pushing,
almost shoveling, the idea of local food or fresh food on low-income
populations without recognizing that low-income people are often resistant to
buying or even wanting that kind of food. It’s not necessarily what they know
or prefer.
So isn’t
your food-truck program in Camden
an example of just the kind of programs pushing fresh food?
You have to teach them what to do with it. That it
really is affordable. In Camden,
we are working with a lot of other organizations. One of the programs we are
involved in is with a doctor whose practice will be handing out food-truck
coupons to patients. They’ll say, “Hey, you have type 2 diabetes, you’ve got to
start changing what you eat. There’s a farmers’ market on Tuesdays and
Thursdays, here are coupons to help buy the food. Here are instructions about
how to cook the food without lard and whatever else. And you have to start
getting on this train.” You have to help people make choices.

You’ve been
here for all these years and you’re saying your own closest neighbors are not
customers. Is that disheartening?
It’s a long process. You have younger people who
are learning about food, who are breaking with what their parents ate and so
will become customers. They are getting used to seeing apples at school and
then they wonder why they don’t have any at home. They’ve learned a lot just by
walking past our farm. Do I think I am going to get a 50-year-old, who I can’t
get to stop drinking Miller Lite or smoking cigarettes, to change her eating
habits? No. But it’s generational.
You might
not have a lot of local customers still, but you have certainly become a
neighborhood institution. What changed?
At some point early on, we decided to buy a
greenhouse. Someone was tearing down their greenhouse so we could have it. We
built it and decided to grow flowers. We had already done a study, and we knew
we couldn’t just grow lettuce in the winter in the greenhouse. It wasn’t
financially viable, so we started growing flowers, and that really started to
change the nature of our relationship with the neighbors. Some of them had
window boxes and they had marigolds, so we planted marigolds.
Greensgrow
started as a small business and then became a nonprofit in 1999. Did you expect
to run your operation with donations and grants
No, we thought that if we could get it right then
we’d be able to run a profitable organization and the grants could help us try
things out and see if they could fit into the model. That’s the way we still
use grants today. Two years ago, I don’t think we applied for any grants at all
because we weren’t in expansion mode; we were just doing what we were doing.
Last year, we started two new initiatives so we applied for grants. We did a
low-income CSA and the Camden truck. What we do is put something in the pipeline
with the help of grant money and we give it three years to see if we can do
something with it. If it emerges from that as something that is viable, that is
sustainable, then it gets thrown into the farm pile and doesn’t get any more
support.
What would
be an example of a project that started with a grant and became
self-sustaining?
Years ago, we got a grant from USDA to launch a
CSA. That was pretty much a lifesaver. We were at the end of our rope and that
got us through the next two years and then the CSA really took off, and so did
the nursery and the farm stand. We abandoned the wholesale lettuce entirely,
and found a whole different income model. We were able to do that because we
weren’t beholden to any particular thing. It’s not like we’d gone out and
bought a $50,000 potato truck. We took down hydroponics and made it into
something else. We’ll be back using hydroponics maybe next year, but this year
we used the space mostly for chickens and nursery stock. 
Why will
you go back to hydroponics next year if you’re doing so well with these other
initiatives?
Because I think it’s an important part of who we
are – growing and alternative growing methods, and people love it. They love to
see it. It’s an important demonstration of how you can grow in different ways
and in different places.
What are
more recent examples of projects that went from grant-supported to
self-sufficient?
We used foundation money to make biodiesel and to
develop composting toilets. One of our composting toilets is solar.
Should
other urban farms strive to move programs away from dependency on grants?
Programs that are about social entrepreneurship,
like urban farms, should basically run like a business, where you have to draw
a line that says, this is what we can do with the resources we have or can
generate. And if you can’t do that, just like in any other business, you have
to determine why you are not meeting those goals. Is this something you’re not
supposed to be doing in the first place? Is there not a demand for your
product? Are you not good enough to create demand for your product?
Are you
saying it appears that some urban-farm efforts lack business savvy?
Yes, or they just don’t have a plan that makes
sense. You have to look at what is in demand. Just because you like kale or you
think that it would be nutritious for people to eat kale, doesn’t mean you
should start a farm to grow it. You have to develop a market for people to buy
it. I’ve seen all these small urban farms pop up and there’s no market for
them.
What does an urban farm need to get the right
start?
This is something that should be started small
and, no pun intended, grown. You don’t need a million-dollar greenhouse to
start a farm. You need seed and a shovel. And you need time. It is 40 acres and
a mule. We’ve dealt with people who wanted to start an urban farm, and we threw
their business plan back at them and said, you don’t make $100,000 a year as an
urban farmer. The urban farming movement will have a lot of fall out, but it
will stick on many levels once people realize that it is not about production,
it will never be about production. The plots are too small or compromised for
it to be all about production.
If urban
farming is not about growing produce, what is it about?
The first motive, in our case as a nonprofit, is
to show that you can use brownfield land and turn it into something green and
useful. Nowhere in our mission statement does it mention food. It is about
reusing and reclaiming to create more livable cities. It’s to reutilize abandoned
and underutilized land to create more livable cities. Nothing to do with food
or art or biodiesel. These were just other components that came along for us.
Greensgrow
runs a farm stand, but you have said elsewhere that you think farmers’ markets may
not be all they are cracked up to be. What’s your take on them?
There’s nothing wrong with farmers’ markets. The
problem is that they go away. They may be there one year and not the next or
even one week and not the next because the farmers get a better deal to set up
somewhere else. With an urban farm, you are there. We have stakes here. What
goes right in the community and what goes wrong impacts me, impacts the value
of my house and the quality of life of all the people who work with me. I don’t
go away. I’m not here on Thursdays and then pack up the truck and maybe come
back and maybe not. My neighbors know me. The money we make at the farm stays
in this community. We have an open gate policy. Saturday mornings, people come
for coffee. Christmas time, we empty the greenhouse and turn it over to local
artists who sell their wares for gifts. We have a big fall festival when we
bring in live animals, paint pumpkins, and it’s all free. If there’s a problem
in the neighborhood, we are part of the response.
Greensgrow caters
in large part to upscale shoppers who come from other parts of the city. What
else does the organization do to serve its immediate neighborhood?
We have started a low-income CSA. It has 15 to 20
members. We have another year to work that out, and we may find it’s best to
roll it into our traditional CSA. But we try to do special programs, like pair
the pick-ups with cooking lessons. We have a sincere desire as a nonprofit to
serve the low-income community around us. Just being here though and letting
people know we have fresh food – probably helps. It’s generational, I think,
like I said. We have a wonderful relationship with St. Michael’s Church, where
we’ve built our community kitchen. And we do a lot of work with local
businesses. We purposely put our chickens in the corner where people can play
with them. And they do. All generations come down and feed the chickens through
the fence.
Are you still feeding the chickens, watering
the crops?
I’m not doing as much farming these days. Now I
call myself an Idea Farmer. That’s my new title. I came up with it last week. I
used to be C.F.H., Chief Financial Hoe-er. With an ‘er’ in polite company. I
used to do a lot of hands-on farming, but I don’t do that as much anymore, so I
call myself an Idea Farmer.
What was an
idea that you have had that people questioned, but turned out to work?
In the early years, when we built our own
refrigeration with green roofs, people thought that was never going to work,
but that has sustained us for years and years. We couldn’t afford to get a much
bigger compressor-driven refrigerator. A lot of it is our tweaking little
things. Instead of a regular outhouse, we had the idea for a composting toilet,
and one that people would actually want to use. It has a comfortable seat and
magazines.
Let’s wrap it up
where we started, with the big picture: Where does Greensgrow fit into the
national picture of urban agriculture?
We get tons of calls from people around the country interested in urban
farming, and so we are like a demonstration project. But no matter what you
tell people, they have their own ideas and will do what they want. Greensgrow
has kept its eyes on what it is doing, and does not make a big political thing
about it. We had a goal. We wanted to have a successful farm, and we proved it
could be done. We wanted it to be something that other people can replicate,
but we try to tell other people that they have to start small and see what is
right for their community. Do they want chickens? Do they want education
classes? Do they want you to have a pig? Don’t force things. We were a
business. It was a very casual change. It just evolved. And it has continued to
evolve.