The Urban Co-Op was a dream born from the frustration of living in an unsustainable world.
It grew from nothing but a vision - into a powerful magnet that drew to it a diverse group of believers, whose need for each other was grounded in a deep knowing that something wasn’t right and there must be a better way.
Like any organisation of people, it groaned as it grew, surviving infights and ideological divides as it strived to push past the mind-set limitations of outsiders, unyielding belief systems, misunderstandings, and ignorance.
Mavericks are the first to go through the ditch - and always get a bloody nose!
The early days were marked with the ever-present threat of financial ruin, yet somehow the Co-Op always managed to stay alive. Often the only thing holding up the sky was hope - emanating from the hearts of believers who embraced each other shoulder to shoulder to strengthen the dream.
Having found its feet after years of sweat - the membership grew.
Suppliers would hear about this special place and wonder - could I be part of that? Could it make a difference to my family’s security in this uncertain world? Could people really want what I produce?
And they’d talk - and the membership grew!
And the premises went from primitive to modern as the Co-Op grew roots into the land - and the membership grew.
As astute business management brought the Co-Op to a place where it all but stood on its own feet without the need for philanthropy, breakeven was in sight.
Then Covid steamrolled into town - crushing the life out of businesses, smashing dreams, and stealing away the hope which had just begun to blossom in a country still recovering from the last crash. As hope was replaced by fear, the world held its breath.
But as panic buying broke out in faceless supermarkets, visitors to the Co-Op would find sanctuary in an oasis of calm amidst the chaos of a locked down world.
To its members, The Urban Co-Op was a place you could breathe easy, because you knew it had your back.
If ever there was a test for community resilience - this was it.
Drawn to the oasis by the whispers of a self-evident truth - the membership swelled.
Small farms stayed afloat as suppliers found willing buyers for their craft.
Ordinary people revelled in the security of a local supply chain.
People who cared wanted the quality being offered.
The Urban Co-Op thrived when the darkness suffocated many others.
It thrived despite the fear because it never compromised on its vision of being a hub of resilience in a community over reliant on a faceless global supply chain.
Success against all odds is a powerful story - and as this story grows it gets retold around the world, like seeds blowing from a pod that takes root in random places, the Co-Op is a seed spreader and its ideas become woven into the fabric of life in ways that can’t be measured with numbers.
The cries of a tired mother on the Co-Op floor enter the ears of an eager listener nearby.
The listener whispers it to a teacher who relays it to a retired farmer, who conceives an idea and encourages his son to take a chance to grow a field of ancient wheat, which is bought by a baker and transformed into sourdough, to be sold in the Co-Op, and bought by a grateful mother in search of food she can feed to her sick daughter - without her ending up in hospital with skin flaring so bad she can’t sleep.
The wheat imports lessened - the country grows stronger.
The healthy daughter then volunteers to help out at an animal shelter - because now she has the energy to do it. And the seeds keep spreading.
It takes a community to raise a family, and it takes a Co-Op to glue the community together.
But the story remains unfinished - something is missing - something yearned for by many who don’t yet know it. A kitchen!
Just like the kitchen is the hearth of a warm home where everyone congregates - we too need a kitchen of our own to complete us. A kitchen to gather in, to learn in, to cook in, to teach in, a kitchen to transform fresh unsold produce into nourishment you can feed to your family after a long day’s work.
The Urban Co-Op needs a kitchen!
The Urban Co-Op is the body, and the producers, the farmers, the craftspeople and the staff are the blood that runs through its veins, but You - you are the oxygen that sustains it, so it can sustain you.
The Urban Co-Op needs a beating heart - to pump that oxygen.
The Urban Co-Op needs a Kitchen.
The same vision that carried it from nothing but an idea to a busy hub of hope with thousands of members, continues to peer into the future for ways to make us all even more resilient.
You understand the significance of this because you are its breath.
The Urban Co-Op needs a Kitchen.
Will you help us build it?
It grew from nothing but a vision - into a powerful magnet that drew to it a diverse group of believers, whose need for each other was grounded in a deep knowing that something wasn’t right and there must be a better way.
Like any organisation of people, it groaned as it grew, surviving infights and ideological divides as it strived to push past the mind-set limitations of outsiders, unyielding belief systems, misunderstandings, and ignorance.
Mavericks are the first to go through the ditch - and always get a bloody nose!
The early days were marked with the ever-present threat of financial ruin, yet somehow the Co-Op always managed to stay alive. Often the only thing holding up the sky was hope - emanating from the hearts of believers who embraced each other shoulder to shoulder to strengthen the dream.
Having found its feet after years of sweat - the membership grew.
Suppliers would hear about this special place and wonder - could I be part of that? Could it make a difference to my family’s security in this uncertain world? Could people really want what I produce?
And they’d talk - and the membership grew!
And the premises went from primitive to modern as the Co-Op grew roots into the land - and the membership grew.
As astute business management brought the Co-Op to a place where it all but stood on its own feet without the need for philanthropy, breakeven was in sight.
Then Covid steamrolled into town - crushing the life out of businesses, smashing dreams, and stealing away the hope which had just begun to blossom in a country still recovering from the last crash. As hope was replaced by fear, the world held its breath.
But as panic buying broke out in faceless supermarkets, visitors to the Co-Op would find sanctuary in an oasis of calm amidst the chaos of a locked down world.
To its members, The Urban Co-Op was a place you could breathe easy, because you knew it had your back.
If ever there was a test for community resilience - this was it.
Drawn to the oasis by the whispers of a self-evident truth - the membership swelled.
Small farms stayed afloat as suppliers found willing buyers for their craft.
Ordinary people revelled in the security of a local supply chain.
People who cared wanted the quality being offered.
The Urban Co-Op thrived when the darkness suffocated many others.
It thrived despite the fear because it never compromised on its vision of being a hub of resilience in a community over reliant on a faceless global supply chain.
Success against all odds is a powerful story - and as this story grows it gets retold around the world, like seeds blowing from a pod that takes root in random places, the Co-Op is a seed spreader and its ideas become woven into the fabric of life in ways that can’t be measured with numbers.
The cries of a tired mother on the Co-Op floor enter the ears of an eager listener nearby.
The listener whispers it to a teacher who relays it to a retired farmer, who conceives an idea and encourages his son to take a chance to grow a field of ancient wheat, which is bought by a baker and transformed into sourdough, to be sold in the Co-Op, and bought by a grateful mother in search of food she can feed to her sick daughter - without her ending up in hospital with skin flaring so bad she can’t sleep.
The wheat imports lessened - the country grows stronger.
The healthy daughter then volunteers to help out at an animal shelter - because now she has the energy to do it. And the seeds keep spreading.
It takes a community to raise a family, and it takes a Co-Op to glue the community together.
But the story remains unfinished - something is missing - something yearned for by many who don’t yet know it. A kitchen!
Just like the kitchen is the hearth of a warm home where everyone congregates - we too need a kitchen of our own to complete us. A kitchen to gather in, to learn in, to cook in, to teach in, a kitchen to transform fresh unsold produce into nourishment you can feed to your family after a long day’s work.
The Urban Co-Op needs a kitchen!
The Urban Co-Op is the body, and the producers, the farmers, the craftspeople and the staff are the blood that runs through its veins, but You - you are the oxygen that sustains it, so it can sustain you.
The Urban Co-Op needs a beating heart - to pump that oxygen.
The Urban Co-Op needs a Kitchen.
The same vision that carried it from nothing but an idea to a busy hub of hope with thousands of members, continues to peer into the future for ways to make us all even more resilient.
You understand the significance of this because you are its breath.
The Urban Co-Op needs a Kitchen.
Will you help us build it?
Written 18 October 2020
