[EID Feature] Community COLORS: It's Still a Jungle Out There

Under construction: COLORS-Detroit. (All photos by Nicole Rupersburg.)

Sunday marks the 10-year anniversary of the single event that shook Americans' sense of security to the very foundation. While there is much to be reflected on regarding the events of 9/11 and the decade that followed, for all the media blitz and its immediate historical significance there is a real question that remains of how much actually changed as a result. It may be too hasty to try to analyze just how much of an impact 9/11 had on the functioning of day-to-day society or the ideological imperative of the American consciousness, but there is at least one organization that was born out of the ashes of the World Trade Center that has come to have a much more far-reaching, nationally significant, and continually socially relevant impact beyond the events of that day.

Restaurant Opportunities Center (ROC) United is a nonprofit organization dedicated to improving the wages and working conditions for the nation's low-wage restaurant industry workforce through training programs and policy work. The organization was initially formed in the aftermath of 9/11 by former workers of Windows on the World, a restaurant on the top floor of the World Trade Center. 73 of its employees died that day, and hundreds more were displaced by loss of employment and income. Many of those displaced were immigrant workers, who had difficulty accessing federal relief funds. ROC United was formed to help them and give them better opportunities, but very quickly the organization realized that not only displaced workers from 9/11 could benefit from it, but that its core value system applied to restaurant workers all over New York City. Eventually ROC United became a national organization, and is still the only national restaurant workers' organization in the country.

The restaurant industry is the largest private sector employer in the United States, yet workers have absolutely no form of legal representation in the form of labor unions, are singularly subject to a drastically lower minimum wage than any other industry, and seldom receive any kind of health care benefits save for the highest-ranking positions.

The fat beast feeding off the marrow of American industry that has become the American Federation of Labor wasn't always so. Unions started to form in the mid-19th century to fight for things we take for granted now: living wages and health care, sure, certainly ... but also safe and sanitary working conditions and an end to wage slavery. If you've never read The Jungle by Upton Sinclair, it is the single greatest achievement in exposing the working conditions of low wage and immigrant workers and the pressing need for labor unions to represent and protect them. Ironically enough it is situated specifically in the meatpacking industry, though its concerns apply to workers of all industries.

So why is it now, nearly 200 years later, and in the restaurant industry no less, that wage slavery and institutionalized racism in this largest private sector employer in the country are still wholly acceptable?

This is where the work of ROC United begins.

In the month of July alone, the national restaurant industry posted profits of over $40 billion according to the National Restaurant Association, the nation's largest restaurant employers' lobby. Yet restaurant workers make average wages of $15,092 per year. If minimum wage were to keep up with inflation it should be over $10.00/hour, yet the National Restaurant Association has convinced Congress to keep the minimum wage for tipped employees at a grotesque $2.13/hour for the last 21 years. More than half of the tipped workers are waiters and waitresses, who earned a national median wage of $8.80/hour with tips.

Through their various worker-led research studies, ROC United found that while there are living-wage jobs in the industry, most are very low-paying. Additionally workers of color are concentrated in these low-wage jobs, while white workers tend to have the "good" jobs. Think about that the next time you're in a restaurant with a white Executive Chef and a kitchen full of Mexicans running the joint. Positions such as dishwasher, busser, food runner, and prep cook have a disproportionately large number of ethnic and immigrant workers, versus the much higher ratio of white workers in higher positions. ROC United also found high rates of injury and illness and low rates of health benefits for restaurant workers across the board. ROC United uses these research findings to educate legislators and influence policy debate on issues affecting the restaurant industry.

ROC United also works to create better opportunities for restaurant industry workers through job training programs. The Colors Hospitality Opportunities for Workers (C.H.O.W.) Institute is a workforce development initiative that provides education and training for low-wage workers seeking to advance in the restaurant industry. Classes range from service training to advanced culinary skills and are run by industry professionals. Courses run eight weeks and are absolutely free. (Find out more from the ROC-Michigan website.)

In 2006, ROC United opened a cooperatively-owned restaurant COLORS, which houses the C.H.O.W. training program and acts as an incubator for worker-owned businesses. This fall, ROC-Michigan will be opening its own branch of COLORS in Detroit's Paradise Valley district. The list of nonprofit and private sector partnerships behind the COLORS-Detroit Opening Gala reads like a dream team of Detroit's finest: Boggs Center to Nurture Community Leadership, SEM Jobs with Justice, Phillip Cooley of SLOWS Bar BQ, Marc Djozlija of Wolfgang Puck, Jess Daniel of Neighborhood Noodle and Good Food Entrepreneurs, Capuchin Soup Kitchen, Gleaners Food Bank, Equality Michigan, Fair Food Network, Slow Food Detroit ... the list goes on and on and ON. They will be hosting the event this Monday, September 12, starting at 5:30 p.m. Tickets are available starting at $25 for students/low-income.

The culinary concept behind COLORS is creative local fare reflecting the different culinary traditions of the community (African American, Latin, Middle Eastern, etc.) celebrating the rich food history of Detroit. They are partnered with Earthworks Urban Farm, Grown in Detroit, Brother Nature, and the Detroit Black Community Food Security Network (among others) and will be sourcing much of their products from these local urban farms and gardens. The restaurant itself will be opening for lunch service later in the fall, with dinner service and brunch to follow. They'll also be hosting special events in September and October, such as working with Slow Food Detroit on the $5 Food Challenge on September 17 and Food Day on October 24.

Much like the original COLORS in Manhattan, COLORS-Detroit will be a collective entrepreneurship and an incubator for worker-owned businesses (some examples might include a COLORS Catering or COLORS brand food products). The training center will launch first and the entire facility - including the restaurant as well as classroom space and ROC-Michigan's offices - will be located in the Milner Building (the space is beautiful, too: check out all the Pewabic Pottery tile on the floor). Support the cause and check out the new facility on September 12 at the COLORS Detroit Opening Gala, and eat to do good. As COLORS-Detroit General Manager Phil Jones says, "COLORS is about community and the food that binds."

[HOT LIST] Eat to do good

Fresh Food Share box (photo from Gleaners Food Bank)

Some people eat to live. Some live to eat. And then there are those who eat to do good. While people are becoming more conscious of what they eat in terms of environmental and economic sustainability, still others see food as an opportunity to make a political statement and enact social change. Whether that is getting involved with food activism targeting specific legislation (such as the Michigan Good Food Charter), operating an urban farm through a nonprofit organization, or helping to make inexpensive fresh food available in urban areas, now more than ever you are what you eat.

#1 Fresh Food Share (Detroit)
The Fresh Food Share (FFS) is a community food program in the city of Detroit that is part of the Green Ribbon Collaborative - a partnership between Gleaners Food Bank, Eastern Market, the Fair Food Network and Greening of Detroit. The Hannan Center is the local distribution and volunteer center. Through this program, community members can participate in a monthly fresh food program (similar to a CSA) payable by cash, check, or Bridge card. Shares of fresh fruits and vegetables are available in a variety of sizes up to 30 pounds ($17), or you can choose to support a senior with a 20-pound mixed fruit and veggie box for only $14. Orders are due by noon on the second Thursday of the month through December 8 (the next order is due in by September 8); distribution is on the third Friday. For more information or to place an order, call 313-550-8034.

#2 SEED Wayne (Detroit)
SEED Wayne is a program administered through the Wayne State University College of Liberal Arts and Sciences (Department of Urban Studies and Planning) designed to help build a sustainable food system on the WSU campus and in the local community. They partner with other area nonprofits to create a culture of awareness and access, and the education starts with their own students. Since its launch, the program has planted three urban vegetable and herb gardens and now hosts a weekly on-campus farmers' market on Wednesdays (through October 26). They are also involved with fledgling programs such as Detroit FRESH (an effort to get fresh produce in corner stores), as well as host an annual Harvest Dinner.

#3 Forgotten Harvest (Oak Park)
The mission of Forgotten Harvest is to fight hunger and waste in metro Detroit by rescuing surplus prepared and perishable food and donating it to emergency shelters. They have hundreds of regular donors in addition to community food drives organized by private entities such as corporate offices and community groups (especially during the holidays). Their efforts benefit over 150 food pantries, soup kitchens, homeless and domestic shelters, senior citizens' and group homes, and children's homes all over Oakland, Wayne, and Macomb Counties. They also partner with other local businesses and organizations for a number of fundraising events including an annual charity golf outing and charity fashion events.

#4 Gleaners Community Food Bank (Detroit)
Gleaners Community Food Bank also strives to fight hunger in Southeastern Michigan through community outreach, education, and food distribution. They deliver 36 million pounds of donated and purchased food to agencies and people in need annually, and hope to raise that number to 50 million by 2013. To assist their fundraising efforts they host special events (such as the Bernie Smilovitz 2011 Harvest Classic this Sunday, September 11) and organize food drives. They also sponsor programs like "Cooking Matters," which teaches families how to shop for and prepare economical and nutritious meals at home.

#5 Capuchin Soup Kitchen and Earthworks Garden (Detroit)
The Capuchin Soup Kitchen is an 82-year-old organization founded by Capuchin friars to tend to people's basic needs, especially the need for food. The organization is inspired by the philanthropic works of St. Francis of Assisi, and serves the people of metro Detroit through a number of programs including the On the Rise Bakery and the Earthworks Garden. They also offer clothing, shelter, and rehabilitative services. You can start doing your part by attending the Earth Works Garden Annual Harvest Dinner on September 17.

Bubbling under Fair Food Network Detroit, Slow Food Detroit, Feedom Freedom Growers, ROC-United

[Metromode] What Food Trucks Say About Ferndale

Last month in Concentrate, the Ann Arbor-based sister publication to Metromode, we looked at the burgeoning food truck scene in Ann Arbor, with the arrival of the new food truck courtyard Mark's Carts. We also looked at Portland, Ore.'s successful "pod" model, groups of food trucks located in semi-permanent positions on privately-owned lots. The scene has been so successful that there are now over 600 food carts operating in Portland, and they regularly make national headlines in food, travel, and business publications.

This week in Metromode, we look to Ferndale to see how feasible a food truck scene might be here, and what it means for the greater community.

In terms of urban cred, Ferndale doesn't really have any one thing that makes it extraordinary. When considering the amenities that typically make a community stand out - rich history, impressive architecture, unique cultural heritage, major museums, exceptional restaurants - the city struggles to distinguish itself. And yet, distinguish itself it does.

What makes this inner ring Detroit burb so attractive is its energetic commitment to developing a vibrant downtown, nurturing local entrepreneurship, drawing young professionals, and facilitating the creativity of its citizens. The nickname "Fabulous Ferndale" isn't just a tongue-in-cheek response to the city's growing LGBT population. It's become a mission statement of sorts. And unlike many local governments, the city has political and municipal leaders willing to embrace the changes necessary to meet those goals.

"Ferndale is easy to work with as far as the city goes," says Chris Johnston, owner of popular Ferndale spots Woodward Avenue Brewers (WAB), the Emory and the Loving Touch. "A lot of other places seem to have red tape for no reason... it should be a given to not get in the way of people who have a lifelong dream of doing something and are willing to put money up to do it. [It almost seems like] some cities watch you do things the wrong way just to say 'Oh, you did it wrong.'"

As if to drive that point home, consider the New Theater Project, an Ann Arbor troupe that was recently driven out of its small space because of zoning issues. Despite a year of performing and renovating the space, the city demanded $1,000 to apply for an exception hearing or move out. The company ended up relocating to Ypsilanti.

Someone says, "I have an idea" and Ferndale answers, "Let's make it work."

Recently a brand-new mobile food truck called El Guapo made headlines for becoming the first fully-sanctioned food truck in downtown Detroit. It only took 60 trips to City Hall to make it happen.

In Ann Arbor, where the city's mantra is "If it's not specifically permitted, it's forbidden",  Mark's Carts opened against all municipal odds. Given the constraints and requirements, it was the urban equivalent of lightning striking.

In contrast, two weeks ago the Ferndale Downtown Development Authority was approached with four applications for mobile vending permits (two push-carts and two trucks). Three out of four are already operating -- Underdog and Motor City Franks, both sidewalk hot dog vendors, and Jacques' Tacos, which is renting a space in the privately-owned parking lot of Ferndale Radiator. The fourth, another Mexican food truck called Taco Mama, is delayed only until an agreement on the truck's location can be reached and secured. Treat Dreams will also soon be operating an ice cream cart...

Read the rest of the story here.

[Concentrate] What Food Carts Say About Ann Arbor

"Mobile vending (food trucks and the like) in metro Detroit has  become a popular topic of conversation in the local media as of late. While the city of Detroit has come under heavy scrutiny about its barriers to entry, in Ann Arbor, Mark's Carts, the new food truck courtyard located on a private parcel of land on East Washington Street, has attracted the attention of mobile vending advocates, foodies, journalists and bloggers -- even Congressman John Dingell (whose visit in June was well-publicized).

'What differentiates Mark's Carts from other attempts at food truck operations is the fact that the trucks themselves are stationary and are located on private property owned by Mark Hodesh, who also owns the adjacent Downtown Home and Garden garden supply and kitchenware store.

''We had a small lot where we were just parking cars and an empty building that [for various reasons] we couldn't rent out,' explains Hodesh, who first became interested in food trucks after visiting his daughter in Brooklyn and witnessing the diverse offerings possible with mobile vending. The idea came to him to turn this lot and building into a food truck courtyard and kitchen.

''First, I have to say hats off to the Ann Arbor City Planning Division,' Hodesh says. 'My basic approach was, "Here's what I want to do; what do I need to do?" and they told me.' Because it is privately-owned property, Hodesh says there were no specific zoning ordinances he had to contend with.  The city doesn't really have a say in food sales on private property (just the Health Department). He also had a full commercial kitchen installed in the on-site building where the vendors prepare their food (as opposed to preparing the food inside the trucks themselves). Because of this highly unique (not to mention serendipitous) situation, Mark's Carts was rather easily made into a reality.

'The real question is: how do we create more places like Mark's Carts? ..."

Read the rest of the article here.

Detroit Institute of Bagels: Filling the Void of Detroit's Bagel Desert

If you live in the city of Detroit and have a craving for a soft, fresh bagel with cream cheese and a good cup of coffee in the morning, good luck to you. And if it’s a weekend you can just forget it entirely. Not only are the greater downtown districts of Detroit sorely lacking in decent coffee shops – yes, we love Café Con Leche and Café 1923, but they’re not exactly walking distance from downtown or Midtown; Starbucks and Biggby cater to coffee-as-your-daily-caloric-intake crowd, and Stella International and Rowland Café satisfy the craving but don’t really excel beyond the basic need. Plus almost all of them have extremely limited hours, typically closed nights and weekends (catering more to the business crowds and less to the locals). And nowhere, NOWHERE can you find fresh-baked bagels, like from a bakery (and I’m not talking about Tim Horton’s here).

Brothers Ben and Dan Newman joke that Detroit is a “bagel desert.” They started Detroit Institute of Bagels in response to the city’s utter lack of quality, flavorful fresh-baked bagels, and not only to fill that bagel void – Detroit Institute of Bagels was also created as an effort to continue to build the city’s momentum as a place where local entrepreneurs make fresh, high-quality food products in a community environment that encourages independent businesses and food shops as destinations.

“People are coming down here especially to go to Slows," says Ben Newman. "People want to connect with the city and do it in a way that’s comfortable. [Places like Slows are] offering a way for them to come down and get something to eat. There’s also a big push to get creative class down here and living here," he continues, "with Quicken and other big companies moving [to Detroit] and pushing the idea if you just put jobs in the city you’ll get people in the city, but that isn’t the case if you don’t have cafes, coffee shops, etc.,” referring to some of the auxiliary amenities people in a major city have come to expect from a major city. “We want to provide that for people as a café."

Right now the DIB’s operations are done entirely out of the brothers’ shared flat in south Corktown, with plans to open their own bagel shop and cafe in the near future. "In Detroit you have to build your business really organically, do it from the ground up," Ben explains. "We're giving people the chance to try our bagels now, and are also developing relationships with people who do place large orders of  bagels so when we’re ready to launch we don’t have to deal with the headache of finding customers."

The idea to start a food business in the city was born our of Ben's own experiences working at Short's Brewing Company in Bellaire, as well as his passion for urban renewal born from his academic background as an urban planner. "I saw firsthand how [Short's] created a food and beverage establishment that people will drive five hours to visit, and the redevelopment that this has spurred in Bellaire," he explains. "Also, I finished my Masters of Urban Planning in the fall and did a lot of work on vacancy in the city. I feel like food businesses can fill vacant spots, create desirable places to live and visit, and offer job opportunities, among other things. Right now, in addition to making bagels, we are looking for a brick and mortar location, some commercial scale equipment, and a few dollars that will make it easier to produce bagels for the masses."

But while in hindsight bagels seem to be an obvious choice, they weren't quite so intuitive at the time Ben was brainstorming what kind of food business he wanted to start. “I was looking at food businesses that are lacking here,” he tells me. “I wanted to do pizza but we’ve got pizza covered” (this is said with a smile and a wink towards Dave Mancini and his very popular pizzeria in Eastern Market, Supino Pizzeria, which is widely considered to be the best in metro Detroit). “I always loved bread and a friend said, ‘Why don’t you make bagels?’ So, we're making bagels to fill the 'bagel desert' that is Detroit. No one is offering bagels in Detroit, and every vibrant city has bagels.”

Eureka! Let there be bagels.

So in December Ben starting playing with different bagel recipes, making hundreds of bagels he would then give away to friends and family while trying to find a recipe that was consistent that he could also add different items to the dough to make flavors that excel far beyond the basic salt or poppyseed bagel. “We also had the idea that we have to do something different to get people to drive out of their way to get bagels from the city.”

This is how they ended up with such flavors as bacon cheddar, dried cherry chocolate, blueberry ricotta, and rosemary/olive oil/sea salt. “We're making better bagels than anyone else and with flavors that you can't get anywhere else ... with the ambition of making bagels a destination food product to draw more people into the city,” says Ben.Which is the goal of a growing number of local food entrepreneurs hoping to reshape the city's identity with hand-made organic food products ranging from sausage to jam to sauerkraut. And, now, bagels.

There has been no shortage of food start-ups in recent months with the July 2010 change in cottage industry laws. Brand-new businesses and businesses that had been previously operating on the “DL” formed, but after less than a year the laws are still unclear and those who braved those first legalese aftershocks are now the ones who are actively shaping them.

There is a Detroit-based food entrepreneur group which works as a networking opportunity for current and future owners of food start-ups to meet, discuss their businesses and the obstacles they face, and help each other start their businesses. If you've been following Detroit's budding food start-up scene, names like Jess Daniel from Neighborhood Noodle and Will Branch from Corridor Sausage Company will be familiar; these are the people actively involved in the group. "Will from Corridor is sharing his experience of how to start a business in the city; that’s the beauty, people reaching out to find a way to help you get set up," Ben states.

These same people - Ben, Jess, Will, and local activist Vince Keenan - recently approached city council to fight the vending code which states that your food can't create a smell. While their numbers are small and their approach very do-it-yourself, the efforts of these people now will have a tremendous impact on the future of the laws on food start-ups and mobile food vendors in the city. And, as I've mentioned before, the opportunities that a shift in the perceptions (and thereby a loosening of the restrictions) of these businesses would bring with it are almost endless.

"500 food carts is 2000 jobs; that's as many as Quicken is bringing down," Ben outlines. "Those employees would actually be living in the city. The food trucks are also providing jobs for people who don’t have a secondary education and provide them with a skill set that is transferable because there are always jobs in the food industry. That’s what changes your city from your suburb - having nice dense clusters of food businesses and independent places. There’s got to be something unique that’s giving people more reasons to reside in the city of Detroit; Slows and Woodbridge Pub and LJ’s Lounge are unique places in the city that do that."

Despite these early activist efforts, the minds of the government officials who are ultimately the ones who must decide to make and change the laws are predictably uninformed and closed-minded. "Someone from the Health Department said that there’s no reason to change vending codes because 'there are no commissaries in the city.'" And so once again the citizens must initiate themselves what their city government is too short-sighted to address.

"The idea that [Detroit] is a 'blank slate' where you can start any business isn’t true," Ben says of the often prohibitive regulations. "We’d love to follow the laws if they were clear but no one even knows what they’re supposed to do – a lot of people are doing things on the sly. [The government] needs to make the law in a way that the people who want to follow it can follow it because people who won’t follow it won’t anyway."

And once again, the Luddite concern that mobile food businesses will cause all other food businesses to lose all their customers and go bankrupt and shut down forever and ever is just preposterous ... yet it is still an obstacle that hopeful mobile food vendors are facing. "They're not cutting into brick and mortar places' business. People come out and smell food or see it and decide they’re hungry. That creates a vibrant community of people in the streets. In Portland there’s been an increase in brick and mortar businesses because now people are out looking for food. It’s a bigger piece of the pie; brick and mortar places are now starting their own carts because they see it as a way to test their products and grow their marketing." Echoing the frustrations of many others who are trying to operate non-traditional food businesses in the city, he concludes with, "In Detroit you’re incentivized to do everything under the ground."

In the meantime, this food entrepreneur group continues to try to shape Detroit's future in food by defining what is "good food" (more than just healthy and organic but also the economic development aspect) and discussing the possibility of forming a kitchen incubator, such as Starting Block on the west side of the state where Suzanne Vier of Simply Suzanne Granola got her start. "It's optimistic to hear people at least talking about the right things," says Ben. "It doesn’t happen overnight because nothing does, but the conversation is the first thing to bring people to the table. Food can do this – if you offer people free food they’ll come together and have conversations they wouldn’t have had otherwise. Food is something that brings everyone together; people congregate around it. Certainly if you fry it and roll it around in sugar."

That last part is in reference to their best-seller Fragelrocks!: deep-fried raisin bagel holes tossed in cinnamon sugar.

Prior to starting Detroit Institute of Bagels, Ben's only formal training was taking a bagel-making class at Zingerman's. Not that you'd ever be able to tell: the bagels are chewy, airy, dense and soft, with just the right amount of crispness to the crust (and not so hard that you feel like you're going to slice your gums open trying to take a bite). The name came from a brainstorming session in February; it was originally a play off of the DIA but also in a way paid homage to the brothers' grandfather who started the Detroit Institute of Physical Medicine and Rehab. "Something in our genes made 'Institute' sound good," Dan jokes. Dan is the one responsible for all of the branding, the website design, and pretty much everything else that isn't the baking of the bagels themselves. (Which includes the quirky imaging which also plays off of the DIA by taking famous paintings like American Gothic and adding bagels to them.)

The flavor ideas were more trial and error. "Bacon cheddar was something I really wanted to see happen," Ben says. "Rosemary/olive oil/sea salt was from a friend who saw it somewhere else, and blueberry ricotta started as blueberry feta." They look towards pizza for ideas for their savory bagels because "pizza and bagels are kind of analogous," citing Motor City Brewing Works' pear and gorgonzola pizza as another inspiration. They also look towards cookies for the sweet bagels, like the dried cherry chocolate bagel with a little salt and mascarpone cream cheese. They've also had a bagel flavor contest on Facebook - the winner was jalapeno garlic. "We talked to Jim [Geary] of Woodbridge Pub, and [he told us] 'give customers a sense of ownership in your business.' People will feel a connection and tell a story [about it]. This is the beauty of Detroit versus other cities where they would just be like, 'Open a bagel shop or don't.' Here Greg Mudge [of Mudgie's Deli], Ben and Jason from Russell St. Deli and Dave from Supino are all willing to talk to us."

Right now Ben and Dan are looking for a storefront so they can increase their production - which currently is extremely limited by the time it takes to make X number of bagels and the space in their home refrigerator to chill the dough - and provide customers with the full cafe/coffee-and-a-bagel urban experience. In the meantime, they're also looking into distribution to places that sell coffee and sandwiches (like Mudgie's). To get your bagel fix now, place an order on their website at http://www.detroitinstituteofbagels.com/ at least one day in advance (recommended two days, especially for large orders). Limited delivery is available.

Ben and Dan will be launching a crowdfunding campaign (like Kickstarter) soon for their bagel shop; keep an eye out for the campaign (follow them on Facebook and Twitter for updates).

Even though starting a food business in the city is by no means easy, the greater potential of such businesses is what gives Ben the energy to keep going. "I need to have a reason to get out of bed and do this every day. Working together to build businesses, grow the food economy, see more food trucks and start-ups, and help build that community is that reason."

My Detroit Soup (Extended Version from Real Detroit Weekly)

Photo by Vanessa Miller, reprinted with permission in Real Detroit Weekly; click on photo to see original article

As a city dweller and socializer closely linked to “The Scene,” I’ve been seeing increasingly more self-congratulatory glommers-on types popping up all over the Detroit Interwebs and it has been disheartening (when not absolutely infuriating). I've been feeling that the very things that made Detroit great are now being commodified for mass consumption, and NOT by outside media, no – by our very own people.

"You've been really down on the city lately," my friend said to me after we left the last Detroit Soup gathering on Sunday, October 3. And it's true: between the self-serving sycophants and shameless opportunists hoping to capitalize on the nation's newfound fascination with Detroit, I feel like the true DIY underdog spirit of Detroit has been lost and replaced by people ready to do backflips for the chance to get their names in the papers or their faces on camera. Detroit, for me, had lost its sincerity.

Kate Daughdrill, along with her friend Jessica Hernandez, is responsible for launching Detroit Soup, a once-monthly social gathering which raises money to fund micro-grants for community-oriented projects voted on by the attendees. The event is set up as a dinner party in the loft space above Mexicantown Bakery, which is owned by Hernandez’s family. It is held the first Sunday of every month (November 7 will be the next gathering).

“It started as a gathering experiment just to see what would happen once these conversations started,” Daughdrill says. The intention behind Soup is to engage people from the community in dialogue about how to support each other in a practical way, and then do so. Every project proposal submitted for the month is presented and voted on by those who donated their $5 at the door, and can be anything from traditional art projects to socially-engaged projects, from regional photography to community park renovations to hoop house builds. “We tried to really open it up so it can be anyone from artists to builders,” she explains.

When Daughdrill and Hernandez initiated Soup in February – facilitated with a whole network of friends and community members, each one of them volunteering their time and efforts – it started with about 20 people. Now it has grown to over 150, with the largest crowd yet attending the October gathering. Daughdrill worries about the growing size and admits they may need to start limiting their audience: “For people to actually have these conversations it is important to the experience that it feel intimate and not overwhelming.”

One way it can continue to grow in a sustainable way is for other Soup projects to branch off from this one. Already a second Soup – Soup at Spaulding, which is held every Thursday – has grown from this, and Daughdrill hopes there will be more. “We’re interested in being a hub to launch other Soups, and connecting informally as friends. I want people to feel free to make it their own,” she says. “We’re all talking so much about sustainability now; whatever we do that is going to be sustainable has to be enjoyable too.”

Which is why Soup is organized as a dinner party, with hearty, healthful organic soups, salads and sweets made by volunteers and breads donated from Avalon. “The idea is for Soup to be a spot for some serious dialogue but also a casual connection with people,” explains Daughdrill. “And we also hope it’s really pleasurable and really fun; we want to show we can engage citizens in a way that is pleasure-based.”

Daughdrill, an artist and graduate student at Cranbrook who originally hails from New Orleans – a kindred soul city to Detroit if ever there was one – is most interested in the intersection between art and community; the political and social life of a city. “It’s interesting to see how we develop these little independent hubs alongside the infrastructure and institutions of the city.” A model like Soup is community-driven and democratic; it allows for the people to decide how they want the money they’ve donated spent and encourages conversation about how to do that. It is a microeconomy, an independent cultural infrastructure, which makes it more sustainable than projects tied to nonprofit regulations or corporate interests. It is, in a word, pure.

Media folks just LOVE to make the Detroit-New Orleans comparison, but the truth is there are no two other cities that were once so almighty who have suffered the same cataclysmic declines, at least not in the last century (and really, NOLA had a lot better go at rebuilding post-natural disaster than we have post-economic, political and social collapse). "It's a very fierce spirit," says Daughdrill of Detroit, "something very raw but it's also a great American city [with a lot of history]." She compares the current national focus on Detroit -- the coast-to-coast *gasp* now-whatever-will-they-do? and *gasp* gee-wow!-successful-businesses-in-Detroit! trivializing treatment we've received in endless waves over the past year or so -- to the influx of people from across the country that descended on New Orleans after Katrina. "New Orleans maintained a lot of its spirit even after other people came in to rebuild it." She postulates that all the interest from the outside created connections between the new energies that were coming in and the city's very old indentity and traditions, enabling it to shape and grow in a new way.

With all eyes on Detroit, there is indeed a lot of shallow opportunism. But there is also a lot of opportunity. Change is possible in an unprecedented way as we continue to be viewed as animals confined in cages made to look like our natural habit, on display for all the world to watch and critique but not interfere. Right now we have a unique platform from which to identify and address the needs of the community and make it happen in a sincere way that has long-term sustainability (and those needs do NOT include another set of self-promoting pseudo-cheerleaders).

“I think that a lot of issues in terms of arts or infrastructure are pretty urgent,” Daughdrill further explains. “There’s a need for this sort of process of how we support each other.” It is about how to learn and grow together, how to engage in important and timely dialogues, and creating true democratic experiences where people hash things out through dialogue. It’s not simply a matter of micro-grant funding; it is a whole new concept of community organization.

My initial instinct is to snark on everything. But after witnessing Soup myself I could find nothing about it to snark on. So often Detroit feels like a self-appointed Tribal Council, but this was like being amongst the tribe itself. This is the future. As I sit in my corner reveling in my sardonic wit, the next crop of energetic, idealistic, hopeful youths are out there actually making a tangible impact in the community, a hell of a lot more than just linking to articles that say "DETROIT!" on Facebook. The group is utterly genuine and sincere in their efforts in a way that is refreshing ... even inspiring. After my experience at Soup and my 30-minute conversation with Daughdrill (during which we micro-machined our way through about 90 minutes' worth of discourse), I felt my Grinchy heart grow three sizes that day.

To everyone involved with making Detroit Soup happen, I thank you. Detroit needed this. I needed this.