Urban farming is changing the world and leaving me more optimistic than my 14-year-old self could ever imagine. I believe easy access to fruits and vegetables will not only heal our bodies but transform our communities in general.
I say this because I was driving down Whitelock, a block in west Baltimore, a few weeks ago and saw a scrawny kid running up the street with a pillowcase-sized bag of what looked like kale or collards or something. He was in a black Nike Tech suit and some semi-laced Jordan 4s. “Shorty, hey kid,” I yelled to the spindly boy through my driver-side window. “What’s up?”
