Dig into Victory Gardens
Food, community, and why growing things together might be the most radical act of resistance left
It’s Mental Health Month, and for the first post of May, I’m taking a break from the war on Iran and pivoting to another war—WWII, Victory Gardens, and why food, shelter, community, and mental health are more intertwined than we’re taught to believe.
But first, some context.
More of us are recognizing that hyper-individualism was a failed experiment. I think of it as a stale TV dinner—empty calories consumed joylessly in isolation in front of a screen. Add mass layoffs, skyrocketing costs, a crumbling social safety net, a widening wealth gap, and yes, war and fascism, all create a perfect storm that demands collective solutions, not expensive spa retreats or personal self-care tips.
The real fixes aren’t mysterious. Programs like Universal Basic Income, universal healthcare, childcare, free college, functional infrastructure, free public transit, community centers, and an end to forever wars shouldn’t be perceived as luxuries. They aren’t yachts and personal butlers. They're the structural conditions that free so many of us from the particular depression and anxiety that comes from not being able to afford the next bill or a medication.
We know we have the money. We’re spending a billion dollars a day on the Iran war alone. I said I wasn’t going to talk about war, but here we are:)👇🏾
What we have currently is the Resilience Industrial Complex: toxic positivity, self-optimization, and hustle culture sold as fixes for problems that shouldn’t exist in a just society. Resilience matters, but it was never meant to replace systemic change or excuse ongoing harm.
So today I want to talk about the food and community part. This is especially urgent now, as the Strait of Hormuz crisis makes food shortages a real possibility. Victory Gardens feel like a useful place to start.
In 1917, Charles Lathrop Pack, an American multimillionaire, had an idea: get ordinary people growing food in every available patch of public and private land. By WWII, the concept was named Victory Gardens, and by 1944, they were providing 40% of America’s fresh vegetables, grown in backyards and vacant lots by people who’d never thought of themselves as farmers. Without knowing the clinical language for it, the gardeners were improving their mental health, saving money, eating healthier, and bolstering their community.
The program wasn’t without shadows. It was a government propaganda tool, relatively accessible to Black Americans and other marginalized communities, and ultimately dismantled after the war in favor of suburban sprawl and processed food. But the part that has stayed with me is the impulse underneath it: growing things together, feeding each other, and sustainably improving our mental health.
As I was writing this, I caught up with my dear friend, farmer, and gardening teacher Myx Swanson (they/them), who teaches at Birney Elementary School in San Diego. We both agree: there are few things more nourishing than growing food and eating it together.
And that’s exactly what they do. With the kids at the school garden, they’re growing vegetables such as green garlic, lettuce, basil, and plenty of fruits like loquat, kumquat, and pomegranates. The students are making salads, pizza, and tortillas from last year’s corn. Together, they’re cultivating something harder to measure than produce. Something Myx calls symbiotic mutualism.
Gardening reduces cortisol and symptoms of depression and anxiety. Community gardening specifically has been shown to strengthen social cohesion, reduce loneliness, and increase a sense of purpose. Children are now learning that getting their hands in the dirt with other people is, in fact, medicine.
And the good news is that Victory Gardens never fully disappeared. As the connections between food, community, and social justice have become harder to ignore, community gardens are spreading across the US. If you’d like to learn more, Green America is a good place to start.
Growing your own food, knowing your neighbors, and building mutual aid networks isn’t just good for your nervous system. It’s a direct challenge to the systems that profit from your isolation, dependence, and despair. Every seed planted in community is an act of resistance. It’s a step toward sovereignty and living proof that through interdependence with all our relations, we can truly liberate ourselves. 💚