The community garden had been planted by Talia’s grandmother in the late 1960’s. The neighborhood had always been poor, but now, it had lost its pride and charm as well. They’d been taken over by dilapidated strip malls, fast food restaurants and corner stores, the sound of police sirens playing in the background on a constant loop. Developers wanted to destroy the garden. They needed the space to put in yet another strip mall – more discount stores, another fast food place, maybe a liquor store. The neighborhood was gasping for breath. The garden, bursting with green, had been their only source of fresh vegetables for years.
She laid down in the earth, her hot tears falling into the dirt. Her neighbors, one by one, followed her lead, taking spots between each row of plants, gripping hands. She took the hand of her oldest neighbor, the only one left who’d known her grandmother. The old woman nodded at her and smiled. Talia closed her eyes, listening as the roar of the machines became louder and louder.
Read more about food deserts here.