My Story and Why I’m Here
I think the best way for people to understand what I'm doing today is to understand how I got here.
I'm a first-generation farmer. I didn't grow up farming. I started farming because I was a single mother living in poverty, trying to figure out how to raise my children and support my family.
What I couldn't understand at the time was why my government was willing to pay a daycare provider more money to raise my children than it was willing to provide me with the means to stay home, raise them myself and become productive.
So I decided to find another way.
I approached a very wealthy gentleman who owned two houses. One was his childhood home, sitting vacant and needing work. I offered to do the work in exchange for affordable rent.
He agreed.
That negotiation changed my life. It allowed me to move to the country, begin farming and grow enough food to sustain my family. And when I grew more than we needed, that abundance went into my community.
And that's really been the story of everything I've built. I've had to learn how to leverage whatever resources I had, however small, to create the next opportunity.
I initially started as a nonprofit because I thought giving food away was the right thing to do. But I quickly discovered I was offending other farmers who were trying to earn a living selling the very food I was giving away.
That was an important lesson for me. I had to learn that making money wasn't a bad thing. In fact, if I wanted to help farmers, I needed to build something that helped them make money too.
So I became a for-profit business.
Now, being a first-generation farmer, I didn't understand growing seasons, production volumes or how to plan my harvests around farmers markets. I had food coming out of the ground that I needed to do something with.
Through the Allenburg Community Centre, and some wonderful neighbours I met there, I started a food program.
At one point, I was providing three meals a day, seven days a week, for $100. It was simple, hearty food. Big pots of stew, bread, eggs, granola, meat for sandwiches. I was learning how to make food stretch and how to connect farmers directly to families.
Then COVID happened.
By what I consider the grace of God, I had signed a lease on my current property on Lundy's Lane just 13 days before the first shutdown. When the community centre closed, I suddenly had somewhere else to operate.
By then, I had already established relationships with farmers through the food program.
During COVID, I connected with nonprofits, farmers and community members, all trying to make sure food got into people's hands instead of going to waste.
I started coordinating people to distribute that food, and out of necessity, I built a delivery network.
That delivery network allowed me to bring on more farmers, more producers and more products. And that eventually became the distribution infrastructure behind Small Scale Farms.
All along the way, I've documented this journey publicly on Facebook. I've been very transparent about my successes, my mistakes and what I've learned. As a result, I've built a loyal community of people who understand what I'm trying to accomplish.
And I think that's important, because what I've learned is that starting a farm is incredibly difficult. But building an entire system that allows small farmers to succeed is an even bigger challenge.
And that's what I've spent these years doing.
Today, Small Scale Farms is more than a farm. It's a food distribution network that connects farmers and producers directly to consumers.
I've also created Red Maple Farm School because I recognize that if we want more farmers, we have to teach people how to become farmers and how to make those farms financially sustainable.
I've created the Resilience Network and Friendly Neighbours because I believe communities need to be connected to one another, not just to food.
And I've created Give to Grow, which allows businesses, organizations and community groups to participate in an existing food economy while generating money for their own initiatives.
These are not separate ideas. They're all parts of one system.
The education creates more producers. The distribution network gives those producers access to customers. The community networks bring people together. And the commerce keeps money circulating through the system.
It's what I consider an alternative economy, built around the understanding that food itself is a currency.
And the important distinction is that I'm not trying to build a system that depends on grants. I'm building one that sustains itself through commerce.
For years, I didn't see much point in approaching government because I wasn't looking for funding.
But now I'm at a different stage.
I've built the infrastructure. I've developed the programs. I've created the online platforms. I've proven that people will participate.
And I've reached the point where what I need most isn't another program or another grant.
I need connections. I need doors opened. I need introductions to the people, businesses, institutions and decision-makers who can help this infrastructure grow.
I want to help create more farms, educate more people, support more small producers and demonstrate that we can build economically sustainable communities through food.
After all, isn't that what community is all about? Connections?
I don't need anyone to build this for me. I've already spent years building it.
What I'm hoping is that sharing this journey will inspire others to recognize what's possible when we work together, and encourage more people to become part of what we're building.