A Recipe for Community Health

With SNAP-Ed funding set to expire, Washtenaw County risks losing a low-cost, high-impact program that brought nutrition and joy into classrooms, parks, and farmers markets.

If you have a child in the Washtenaw Intermediate School District, you probably know about the “Healthy Schools, Healthy Communities” program. The program provides direct education to K-5 students throughout a five-week program, focusing on food education. Topics include learning about fruits and vegetables, the importance of physical activity, handwashing, honoring food traditions, and many other related subjects. The kids get excited about the Healthy Schools, Healthy Communities programming in a similar way to how they get excited about arts or music programming – a fun break from normal classroom routines, where they try something new.

Each session involves the kids using their bodies, using their brains, and using their mouths. It starts with a “fit bit,” engaging students’ bodies in fun exercise and “getting the wiggles out” before they settle into the brain portion of the day. The program has a special focus on literacy education, utilizing books about food and activities such as kids creating their own menus to reinforce reading, writing, and grammar skills — all while learning about food and nutrition. Finally, each lesson ends with a recipe-based, sensory-based tasting. This provides a fun, low-stakes opportunity to try new foods, allowing kids to use their mouths to explore new tastes.

What you may not know is that all of this programming is a result of SNAP-Ed funding–funding which has recently been drastically reduced, putting the continued existence of programs like these in peril. Danielle Dros is the program lead for SNAP-Ed programs in the Washtenaw Intermediate School District, and she shared with me the broad impact that the program has in the Washtenaw area. The Healthy Schools Healthy Communities program reached about 3,000 students in the area, across thirteen schools and 146 classrooms (in just the last year!). But that program is only one part of the program’s direct education initiatives (which in turn are only one part of the broader program).

In addition to the school year program, there is also a summer “rec connect” program, a physical activity-based program which operates at six sites, including Ypsi library branches and Ypsi Community Schools summer schools. The program is a game-based, six-lesson series that explores a different movement each week, such as hula hoops, jump ropes, or yoga. Each lesson also includes tastings, where students engage in activities such as trying three different kinds of apples and rating them based on their taste.

The last component of the direct education is their Farmers Market Food Navigator program, which partners with the Whitmore Lake Farmers Market every other Sunday. A SNAP-Ed staff member sets up and provides resources to help people understand how to sign up for SNAP, how to use their SNAP benefits, give out food samples, share recipes, and understand what’s in season and how to store produce. (If you’ve been following the other articles in this series, this is the same role that Cassian Lethe plays at the Ypsilanti Farmers Market.)

In addition to direct education initiatives, SNAP-Ed also works on community strategies (formerly known as policy, systems, and environmental change) and indirect education. Some of their work in community strategies has involved helping Whitmore Lake Farmers Market get a card reader to be able to accept SNAP (a major hurdle for small markets), partnering with Superior Township’s Fireman’s Park to improve an underutilized park space, revamping the Ypsi Community Schools wellness policy, partnering with local food pantries to use the Healthy Food Pantry Assessment Tool to evaluate what the pantries are doing well and where there is room for improvement, and supporting with community data collection for the new Ypsilanti Peace Neighborhood Resource Center.

In their partnership with Superior Township, SNAP-Ed staff provided the logistical support to help the township understand what the surrounding neighborhood would like to see in the park. In 2022 and 2023, they knocked on doors and took surveys. After collecting the data, they turned it into a visually appealing and easily readable report, which they provided to the parks and recreation department. The parks department was then able to use the report to ask the township to allocate more funds for the park renovation, and their advocacy was successful. As a result, in 2024, the parks department was able to add a younger kids playground, an older kids playground, benches, outdoor exercise equipment, and a walking trail.

This year, SNAP-Ed again partnered with the Superior Township parks department, as well as the township’s library, to create a story walk on the new walking trail. Story walks combine reading and physical activity by displaying a children’s book, page by page, along an outdoor path. All books used for the story walk are SNAP-Ed approved, allowing kids and their families to learn about healthy food while enhancing their literacy skills and enjoying quality time in nature.

The final component of SNAP-Ed’s community work is its indirect education programs. While direct educational programs focus on reaching kids in schools, the indirect education programs allow SNAP-Ed to have a presence in the community. They attend both school-based and community-based tabling events, such as the upcoming Annual Parkridge Summer Festival/Joe Dulin Community Day in Ypsilanti on August 23rd and the Kite and Rocket Day at Fireman’s Park. When they table, they offer tastings and recipes, information about the programming in schools, and fun swag. They also partner with the CSA Food Navigator Program to table during pickup times for the Argus Farm Stop and Farm at Trinity Health CSA boxes, providing a recipe that features the produce in the CSA box for that week and offering further information about the SNAP-Ed program. This, along with all of their other work, provides resources not only to people who are direct recipients of SNAP benefits, but also to all community members. Programs like SNAP-Ed benefit everyone, including individuals who may never realize they are benefiting from them.

At the end of our interview, Danielle shared that this article feels, in many ways, like a eulogy for the program. The current funding for the program only goes through September 30, 2025. After that, its existence is in peril unless the Michigan Fitness Foundation (which administers SNAP-Ed) can find an alternative source of funding for it. This is the kind of program where a very small dollar amount goes a long way, and Danielle still has hope that the state and/or other national organizations with vested interests in food access will step in to fill the funding gap. Hopefully, Danielle’s dream comes true, and we don’t lose such a valuable program forever.

This post is part of a series by Emma Rose Hardy, a PhD Candidate at the University of Michigan and the Rackham Local Food Systems Intern at Growing Hope. The series aims to highlight the essential role that SNAP and other food assistance programs play in the Washtenaw County local food system.

< Older Post

Newer Post >

Mother Earth is Asking Us to be Present

By Julius Buzzard • April 1, 2026

Beloved community, April arrives the way it always does in Michigan; tentatively at first, then all at once. One morning, the ground is still stubborn and cold, and the next, something is pushing through. We call it Earth Month, but Mother Earth does not need a month. Mother Earth is always working. What Earth Month does, at its best, is return us to attention; to the slow, faithful labor happening beneath our feet, whether we notice or not. This month, I want to talk about that labor. Not just the labor of growing food, but the labor of staying whole while doing this work. The labor of belonging to one another. The labor of grief. Food sovereignty has never been only about food. It has always been about the conditions under which people live; who controls the land, who decides what is grown and for whom, whose hands are trusted to tend it, and whose labor is rendered invisible in the process. When we plant together, across our differences, we practice a different way of being in relationship with the earth and with each other. We are rehearsing the world we are trying to build. This is food sovereignty at its fullest: not a policy framework alone, but a practice of restoration. Of the land, yes. But also of people. Of community. Of self. Earth Month, then, is not just a celebration of the natural world. It is an invitation to remember that we are part of it; that the health of our soil and the health of our souls are not separate questions. This spring, I am carrying something heavier than usual. And I suspect many of you are too. Our community lost Melvin Parson. And that loss has settled into me like the coming of spring here in Michigan: quietly, then suddenly, everywhere. Melvin was a farmer, a visionary, and a neighbor. Through We The People Opportunity Farm, he built real pathways of belonging and dignity. He understood that food sovereignty is not only about growing food; it is about restoring people to possibility. Melvin planted seeds that will outlive all of us. In the soil and in the lives he helped rebuild. Rest in power, Melvin. We will keep tending what you planted. But grief does not arrive alone. And I think we need to name that. Something has been accumulating in many of us. The anxiety of not knowing whether your rent will hold, whether the program keeping your mother's medication affordable will survive the next budget cycle, whether the news tomorrow brings another cut, another threat, another loss. The weight of watching war unfold on a screen while packing your child's lunch. The low hum of uncertainty has grown so constant that many of us have stopped recognizing it as something being done to us. Mental health in our communities is rarely one dramatic moment. It is the slow erosion of the conditions that makes life feel possible. And right now, those conditions are under pressure from every direction. We are not imagining it. It is real. And it deserves to be named. I do not want to move past this moment too quickly, because I think it is asking something of us. Those of us who work in food systems, in community organizing, in the daily labor of trying to repair what has been broken, we carry a particular weight. The need is constant. The resources are not. The work is relational, which means every loss is personal. Every family facing hunger has a name. Every policy that fails our community lands in someone's body. We are not separate from the communities we serve. We are one of them. And that means the strains of this moment: economic precarity, political hostility, grief, isolation, and the relentless demand to do more with less all live within us. I have been thinking about what it means to tend ourselves the way Mother Earth tends herself. To acknowledge that fallow seasons are not failures. That rest is not retreat. That asking for help is not a weakness, but the most honest form of community care. Mother Earth is not asking us to be strong; she’s asking us to be present. This April, I am inviting Growing Hope's community into that same practice. Tend your plot, yes, but also tend your people. Check on your neighbors. Come to the farm not just to grow food, but to be held by the community. Let the soil remind you that transformation is slow, and real, and worth it. We are in this together. And together is the only way through. In solidarity, Julius P.S. If this month is weighing on you, you don't have to carry it alone. The NAMI HelpLine offers free, confidential one-on-one support, mental health information, and resources — available Monday through Friday, 10am–10pm ET. Call 1-800-950-NAMI (6264) or text NAMI to 62640. And if you need a reason to get outside and be with people, join us on April 11, 10am–1pm for our Spring Seedling Distribution.

Downtown Ypsi Deserves This

By Julius Buzzard • March 27, 2026

Beloved community, Last season, organizers of all sizes hosted 168 events at the Ypsilanti Farmers MarketPlace, from mutual aid distributions and cultural gatherings to health outreach and food policy conversations. These moments reflect how we steward shared resources to maximize good and meet multiple community needs at once. At the heart of it all is the Ypsilanti Farmers Market itself. If you’ve spent any time at the market, you know that it’s never just been a place to shop. It’s a place to linger. To listen. To organize. To feed one another, body and spirit. Together, we are building a food ecosystem where everyone has access to fresh produce and where advocacy, mutual aid, and belonging intersect. That was especially clear this year when our community faced a sudden gap in food access. When early federal funding shifts threatened nutrition dollars, our community didn’t wait. Together, we rapidly designed and launched the Ypsi SNAP Gap Program, a locally powered response that ensured hundreds of local families could continue to access food. As we move through spring, your support sustains this work; keeping vendor fees low, strengthening food access programs, and maintaining the MarketPlace as a space for belonging. Every gift sustains a place to live, organize, and nourish one another. With deep gratitude, Julius Buzzard Executive Director P.S. Your early spring support ensures we’re ready to respond when our community needs it most.

Nutrition and the Right to Thrive

By Julius Buzzard • February 26, 2026

Beloved community, March is National Nutrition Month, and across the country, we’re told to read labels more closely, count nutrients more carefully, and “eat real foods.” But nutrition is not a trend cycle; it is a question of power. I invite you to join me in curiosity and ask: Who has access to what’s being recommended? Who can afford the “real” food being celebrated? Who grows it, and who gets paid? Are we treating illness, or are we transforming the conditions that produce it? Health outcomes matter, but health equity goes further. Health equity asks why certain neighborhoods have higher rates of diabetes in the first place. It asks why fresh food feels exceptional in some zip codes and ordinary in others. It asks why farmers struggle to survive while healthcare systems expand. If we do not address land access, procurement policy, and economic extraction, then “eat real” risks becoming a quiet moral judgment instead of a structural commitment. Michigan once modeled real structural commitment through 10 Cents a Meal for Michigan's Kids & Farms ; matching school dollars to buy Michigan-grown produce and making local food standard in cafeterias. It strengthened children’s health, stabilized farmers, and shifted institutional purchasing habits. This year, the program was not funded. And as a result, students miss the chance to build lifelong food memories rooted close to home. And still, we are not retreating. Together, we are building a foundation of generational health. Generational health is the long game. It is the work of ensuring that today’s third grader doesn’t just eat a fresh apple; but grows up expecting apples from Michigan orchards in their cafeteria. It is ensuring that a teen doesn’t just volunteer at the market; but understands zoning laws, farm bills, and supply chains well enough to challenge them. This is the foundation of our theory of change. We build generational health by shaping habits early and reinforcing them often; through initiatives like our Teen Leadership Program, where young people gain the skills and critical lens to navigate and influence the food system; through field trips to our urban farm and incubator kitchen, where learning is rooted in soil; through Farm to School programming that normalizes local procurement; and through Power of Produce (POP) Club, where children practice agency by choosing fresh food for themselves. This is how we shift from reactive nutrition work to regenerative nutrition culture. We do this by pairing conversations about Food as Medicine, dietary guidelines, and eating real foods, with: An insistence that farmers are part of the prescription. Guidelines that align with affordability and access. Understanding that real foods need to be reachable, culturally meaningful, and dignified. Nutrition is not simply about what’s on a plate. It is about who has the right to thrive. This National Nutrition Month, I invite you to see nutrition not as an individual burden, but as a collective project that treats fresh food not as charity, but as infrastructure. We are cultivating a community where children expect fresh produce, where farmers are stable and respected, and where health is inherited as legacy. That is generational health. And that is the future we are growing together. In solidarity, Julius P.S. Check out the FoodCorps Policy Action Map or sign up for our Farm to School Newsletter if you’re interested in building generational health.

ALL ARTICLES