Two years ago, I set up a free community pantry on the corner of my yard in the Meadowbrook neighborhood of north Seattle. The pantry started as a small wooden box that I set on a pillar in front of my house, and it quickly filled with cans of red kidney beans, which were mostly of no use to the community that visited it. In order to be productive and not performative, I realized I needed to expand to better serve those in need.
Mostly based on feedback from those in need, the pantry grew to include a small fridge, several sets of plastic drawers, a hot water carafe, a canopy to keep equipment and guests dry, a sink donated by the UW Seattle Street Sink team, and a charging station for devices. With the provisions, my guests could make some hot noodle soup, oatmeal, hot cocoa, and coffee. They could also wash their hands and face and charge their phones, 24/7. They had complete autonomy and could decide when they were hungry instead of relying on business hours. One pantry regular said, “I have ceased to steal food since discovering the pantry.”
Our visitors over time included students from the three nearby schools–John Rogers Elementary, Jane Addams Middle School, and Nathan Hale High School–families in houses struggling to make ends meet, and neighbors living in vehicles and without shelter. Heralded shortly after opening as one of five “Seattle Neighbor Day Honorees,” we built an incredible community. The drawers were always filled with generous contributions of food, as well as hygiene and survival gear.
Then the NIMBYs started to complain. There was an encampment a block away, and someone blamed my pantry for it, as if I and other pantry providers were responsible for the poverty that pervades our city, where the incomes of the top 20 percent are 18 times greater than the bottom 20 percent.
In June, the Seattle Department of Transportation (SDOT) demanded that I remove the pantry, claiming that it was on city property and obstructing the public right-of-way. (These are the same officials who are hypocritically allowing businesses to place hundreds of concrete blocks in rights-of-way to keep out the homeless.) Only three months before that, Seattle’s Department of Construction and Inspections (SDCI) came out to my pantry and said I was not blocking the sidewalk and that I was not a business. Nevertheless, an SDOT inspector ordered me to move the pantry off the dirt strip in front of my house. My neighbors use a similar dirt strip in front of their houses for fancy rock walls, yard ornaments, and fences.
In addition to the SDOT order, in May a different SDCI investigator ordered me to shut down my food pantry altogether or face hefty daily fines. Despite my sourcing from community and giving away food and hygiene to people in need, the agency claimed that I was running a for-profit “home occupation” with paying “customers,” and I was therefore violating city codes for operating a business out of my home. Eventually, SDCI agreed I could go back to that same small wooden box I originally started with… you remember, the one that was of no use to anyone. Yeah, that’s the one.
Now, with the recent excessive heat waves and poor air quality due to smoke, I have a much smaller set-up inside the brick wall in the corner of my yard. I offer water, electrolytes, face masks, food, and a couple of chairs for our comrades to catch their breath. The city has objected to a cold-pour cooler with fresh water and also the electricity needed for the fridge, the charging station, and the hot water. They also said ‘no’ to a canopy with lighting to combat rain and darkness, and ‘no’ to the sink that allows our visitors the basic human right of hygiene. Keep in mind, most park bathrooms and drinking fountains are locked or turned off in the off-season.
SDCI offered no legal justification for declaring my little pantry to be a “home occupation,” though one of their inspectors claimed to have seen “money exchanged” near the pantry. Whether someone was donating money, who these people were, or why they were giving money was not known by the inspector, who provided no evidence for his allegation. But it has absolutely nothing to do with me or the pantry, as resources are provided for free by way of physical drop offs or deliveries.
The closure of my community pantry displaced many, especially during these excessive heat waves. They’ve lost weight and were forced back into survival crime to exist. It’s heartbreaking that we’re letting vulnerable people down again and that helping our neighbors is against the law. We have built a strong community of people with means who are willing and ready to share their wealth and resources, roll up their sleeves, and meet the needs of our struggling neighbors. The pantry offered visitors a consistent place to get food and to wash up. It was a place for them to take a break, when it is illegal to exist in many places of the city. Guests take pride in the pantry. It’s a beautiful wheel with many cogs and a way to bring community together.
Of course, if the City were meeting the needs of the people they service, there wouldn’t be a need for this level of mutual aid. Look up food banks nearby on Sundays or holidays–all closed. It is impossible for people facing food insecurity to rely on these agencies alone.
The City should be encouraging mutual aid. We need to update or create new laws that allow for neighbors helping neighbors, but, as it stands now, Seattle is as stale and as outdated in its thinking as the red cities. Are the “In this house …” yard signs just for show?
Victoria Shutts hosts the community pantry in Meadowbrook, Seattle.
