Social farming: it’s a crazy idea but it works

In 2014 I had a crazy idea. I wanted to build a social farm to improve mental health and wellbeing outcomes for people in our community. The concept of social (or care) farming is well established in the UK, Europe and US. The model uses commercial agriculture to promote health, inclusion, education, employment and social support for vulnerable groups.

Farm activities are combined with community development, social work and wellbeing approaches to improve health outcomes — physical, mental, emotional, social and economic. There are more than 250 social farms in the UK and 1250 farms in Holland. There are some in Australia, too. They are diverse, serve a multitude of users and provide training, employment and social programs for people experiencing mental health and alcohol and other drug issues, as well as youth and those living with disabilities or dementia.

So, after substantial research and development, and with equal parts naivety and determination, we broke ground in 2016. After initial success, the first social enterprise model flopped (it was painful). But persistence pays off. A new group of enthusiastic community members gathered and the North Fremantle Social Farm launched in early 2019 — it’s a real winner.

The third-of-an-acre market garden occupies an old bowling green and grows all kinds of seasonal vegetables and herbs. The organisation sells shares (capped at 200, with an ever-growing waitlist) in the farm — members can pick veggies at any time. Fees cover running costs (just) and pay for a farmer.

Farmer and volunteer manager Amy Warne is the heart and soul of the place, and volunteers, including a business-savvy board, help make it all possible (I’m no longer a director or involved in operations but remain a member and volunteer).

“Hand on heart, I could not run the Farm without the vollies,” Amy said. The farm is open to the public and there are regular workshops and social events as well. “The farm has good karma,” according to Helen, a member and volunteer. Excess produce is donated to local community organisations, including homeless services. But it’s about more than just food (it’s a social farm, after all).

The real purpose is about connection, learning and wellbeing — the farm nourishes your belly, heart and mind. Children also love the place and I have seen people literally happy dance as they picked a handful of a silverbeet or harvested a cabbage for the first time.

The value of the farm was quickly realised during the COVID-19 lockdown early last year. When the world went mad, the farm was a safe haven. “You could almost hear people exhale as they walked in the gates,” Amy said. “People were drawn to the place, it gave comfort in troubled times.”

There is great scope for other local communities to adopt a similar model, though there are many challenges involved. Community leadership, capital, the right business model and expertise are key, along with access to suitable cheap land. Expertise in bio-intensive farming (growing food is tricky) and social welfare along with business and not-for-profit management skills are also required (can you see why it was a crazy idea?).

But the desire for locally grown food, as well as multifaceted health and social interventions has never been stronger. We have the potential in WA to grow a network of social farms (it’s an exciting prospect).

Pills can’t replace loneliness, fix a broken heart or help you find meaning. But being part of a thriving community, sharing cups of tea and relishing in the fruits of your collective labour sure on earth can.

This article was first published in The West Australian in Renée Gardiner’s weekly column in Agenda, 26 June 2021.