On a one-acre plot in Southwest Detroit, what was once a vacant parking lot now abounds with seasonal produce: lettuce, chives, and herbs like mint, thyme, lavender and oregano are just a few results of the spring harvest.
Founded as a nonprofit in 2012 by Sarah Clark, Cadillac Urban Gardens is on a mission to tackle food insecurity in Southwest Detroit. CUG is host to the largest raised-bed urban garden in Southeast Michigan, grows everything for free and has no limit for customers.
“Any individual can come into the space and take one bag or 20 bags — it does not matter,” Dolores Perales, co-director of CUG, said. “We’re not going to tell somebody that they don’t need 20 bags of produce … They may have multigenerational households that they’re servicing, they may be taking produce for their neighbors.”
In 2021, 10.2% of households in the U.S. were considered food insecure. In Detroit, 69% were. And while some areas of the city aren’t technically considered “food deserts,” experts say the term is misleading, and the situation’s far more complex.
While food insecurity can mean not having enough food to go around, in Detroit’s case, it can also mean that certain types of foods are inaccessible to residents or that available foods might not be the most nutritious.
“To me, access doesn’t equate [to] accessibility,” Perales said.
After the fall of the city’s motor industry in the mid-1950s, racial tensions, economic pressures and the ensuing urban decline led to white flight, reducing Detroit’s middle class — and its tax dollars, too. Since then, Detroit’s population has decreased from 1.85 million in 1950 to just over 600,000 in 2022, leaving behind 100,000 vacant lots.
Using empty lots for urban farming to improve food security isn’t a new concept in Detroit.
During the Panic of 1893, Mayor Pingree encouraged Detroiters to grow their own produce on vacant land. This project was hugely successful, raising $14,000 in profits in the first year — equivalent to around $488,000 today. While urban agriculture diminished with the rise of the motor industry, it has since been picked back up by locals and community organizations.
Size and scope of growing operations in cities like Detroit varies widely. While some function more like a community garden, like CUG, others identify as urban farms and are typically larger-scale and more business-oriented. Keep Growing Detroit (KGD), for example, works with over 2,000 urban farms, sharing resources and running programs like Grown in Detroit, which provides urban farmers with an easy way to sell their produce at local markets.
Detroit’s urban farming projects have become quite successful. The Michigan Urban Farming Initiative was officially designated as an “agrihood”— a hub for community farming. While agrihoods in many cities have developed a class connotation (think: an organic farm near the convenient urban setting of the upper class so residents can “pick the fixings for their avocado toast”) Detroit’s doesn’t exactly match this description. The initiative’s manager said food insecurity is their biggest motivator for these projects since the closest source of fresh produce is Whole Foods, a chain unaffordable for many residents.
But for urban farming operations in Detroit, both large and small, another benefit is the ability to grow culturally-specific foods. Danielle Daguio, engagement manager of KGD, said that while the term “food desert” can generate an image of a barren and depressing landscape, these communities are often brimming with culture.
While Detroit consists of a majority Black population, Southwest Detroit is composed mainly of Hispanic or Latino individuals.
According to CUG’s website, they work to create “equitable access to culturally relevant foods by fostering multigenerational knowledge and leadership.”
“When individuals come and want something from our garden, they automatically know what they can do with some of these items — versus getting a rutabaga and [being] like, ‘I don’t know what to do with this,’” Perales said.
And that access can create a sense of belonging.
“For me, ginger is a predominant crop that’s used in Filipino culture. When I found out that it could grow in Michigan, it made me feel like ‘I can grow here. I can connect here,’” Daguio said.
According to Daguio, local growing also helps communities connect with their past.
“At some point [in your lineage], you’ll eventually hit somebody who had to grow their own food. You might have to keep going farther and farther down, but that’s in our bones. It may have been generations ago when folks had done that before, but it’s still there,” she said.
It’s not just vibrant chilies and fresh curly kale that grow here, but intergenerational connection that takes root. The garden at CUG is small and community-focused, with most of its labor coming from student volunteers, according to Perales.
Perales said she wishes that as a teenager she had another Hispanic Latino person or person of color she could ask questions to; now she’s excited to take on this role for young people coming to Cadillac.
While there’s growing interest in urban farming, challenges persist, particularly in regard to ownership of land and vacant lots.
Farmers often take over properties by reaching an agreement with the property owners who don’t foresee themselves selling the land, and transform them into gardens. But there is no lasting security, as a turnover in ownership could result in potential sales of this property and a discontinuation of their agreement, according to Perales.
Despite the fact that the Detroit Land Bank holds 95,387 plots of land up for sale, many farmers spend years struggling for property ownership. Some farmers believe these issues are due to bureaucratic delays; others believe that the city favors large developers and certain types of land use over others.
Perales said that streamlining processes for purchasing property and enhancing access to property could provide more security for urban farmers, their farms and the surrounding communities. The Detroit Black Farmer Land Fund, initiated during COVID-19, allows Black farmers to receive funds for property purchases through a collective approach.
Perales emphasized the need for continued support for small-scale farms in Detroit in order to maintain spaces where people can grow and support their community.
“What makes those gardens special [is not] just the food,” Daguio said, “It’s an opportunity of connecting and communicating with one another in a natural space.”
