“La tierra es de quien la trabaja.”
-Emeliano Zapata
The land belongs to those who work it.
Maize (corn) is embedded among the cracks of sidewalks, along the gates of mechanic shops, and even threatens to tickle 20-ft.-tall telephone wires in vastly urbanized cities like Los Angeles and Riverside in Southern California. Where? You may ask yourself, if you have ever for a brief moment traversed the city streets of Southern California. And this very question, or rather disbelief, along with a quest for solutions to a rising concern over biodiversity loss in Mexico, prompted an investigation of traditional maize cultivation in Southern California for a Masters thesis project in the International Agricultural Development Graduate Group at UC Davis.
The impacts and consequences of human population pressure, changing economic demands and technological developments have sparked concern over the fate of the world’s food supply. The human population is growing exponentially, whereas the earth is not. Land is finite, and we cannot renew resources such as soil nutrients and water reservoirs once they are lost. This situation poses a grave dilemma.
Various scientific agricultural achievements over the years, such as the development of high-yield varieties, have provided solutions to this important problem of food security, but they are not definitive solutions and pose problems to other sectors of agriculture. Examples are the loss of biodiversity in crop centers of origin as farmers change production practices to meet market demands, thereby adopting high-yield, genetically uniform varieties in replace of more diverse traditional varieties.
Multidisciplinary investigation has extensively researched the loss of maize biodiversity in Mexico, and suggestions for conservation have included various policy change recommendations and a recognition that the stewards of these traditional varieties of maize are just as important as the genetic and food-stuff components of the plant.
This photo exhibit is only a glimpse into a way of life most extraordinary. For one summer, we drove through alleys and streets of some of the most populated, economically disadvantaged neighborhoods in Southern California, asking questions about management practices and food traditions relating to the growing of maize in urban homegardens and community gardens. What we stepped away with was much more.
We gained insight into these stewards of maize, these experimental breeders, the immigrant farmers who like to grow maize because it reminds them of the livelihoods they left in rural farming communities in Mexico. For these reasons, they grow maize in whatever space they can.
Not only are these farmers planting and experimenting with traditional varieties of maize, but they have been reducing their dependence on commercially available food before victory gardens were the catch word of the 21st century. And yes, even before Michelle Obama tore up the White House lawn. State and city officials however, do not seem to recognize the importance or feat of their actions and instead have focused on a series of laws and regulations that make it nothing short of impossible to continue with this livelihood in urban areas. An example in one district includes a height restriction of 6 ft. that makes it unfeasible to plant traditional varieties of maize that often grow far taller than 10 ft. You may say to yourself as we did: Surely the city has better things to do with their time than enforce height restrictions on gardens. I assure you, they most certainly do enforce the laws that often result in the abandonment of cultivation. Almost all of the farmers we met faced some sort of harassment by the city about their gardens.
The purpose of this research and, more specifically, of this photography is to raise awareness, to shed light on these stewards of maize and to champion their actions so that they may continue to support their livelihoods and cultural traditions while simultaneously preserving valuable crop resources.
JMH & CMC
Research inquiries may be directed to:
Joanne Heraty
jmheraty@ucdavis.edu
Photography by
Cristina Martinez-Canton