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The early morning light spills over the raised beds of a thriving community garden in Harlem, New York. It's a Saturday, and people of all ages move among the plants—harvesting collard greens, making compost and packing bags of fresh vegetables.

A community initiative called began in 2011 as a single urban farm on an abandoned neighborhood lot. It has since become a lifeline for the people who live there.

The project combats food insecurity, provides fresh produce to local families— in 2023 alone—and teaches the next generation how to nourish themselves and their communities. As one long-term female volunteer told me: "Healthy habits start young." That's why their programs involve schoolchildren as young as five.

Across the boroughs of New York City, a lively ecosystem of urban farmers, non-profit leaders, dietitians and chefs work together to localize food systems. This helps communities to become more self-sufficient and less reliant on ultra-processed foods, all while ensuring support reaches the most vulnerable.

While healthy food options are readily available in affluent areas such as in upper east side Manhattan, lower-income neighborhoods—dominated by fast-food establishments—face a far greater need. In the Bronx, residents are establishing community gardens to encourage access to fresh, organic produce that people would otherwise require to travel outside the borough to find.

Some young, female urban farmers from minority communities in New York believe that . Some have built their capacity through courses at the , which provides them with the tools needed to become effective leaders in the food justice movement.

Localizing food systems involves growing and foraging for food in urban settings to reduce food miles and reclaim diverse, locally rooted food traditions long-displaced by industrial systems. This is one of the key lines of work explored by women in my book,

I've been investigating how women as experts of their neighborhoods engage with local food movements—organizing community gardens, coordinating cooperatives and managing farmers markets—viewed through a transatlantic lens that connects efforts in North America with those alive in the UK.

My research adopts a regenerative perspective on urban development, viewed through the eyes of women from diverse backgrounds who uncover untapped potential rooted in the uniqueness of their neighborhoods. For instance, I conducted walking interviews with 274 women from both affluent and hard-to-reach areas in three Scottish cities: Glasgow, Edinburgh and Perth.

A participant from the modernist housing estate of Wester Hailes in Edinburgh observed that locals often favor convenience foods: "People in this area like hamburgers, pizzas, mashed potatoes and stuff like that." In her view, encouraging more community gardens could provide healthier alternatives while also reconnecting residents with fresh, seasonal produce.

Another resident recognized the social benefits such spaces could bring, helping to counter isolation. Regular meals at the Murrayburn and Hailes Neighborhood Garden, for instance, attract people who live alone, providing a welcoming space—even for those who don't feel like talking. As one participant put it, these meals are especially "good for people who are slightly depressed."

suggests that getting our hands into the soil stimulates the release of serotonin, a natural antidepressant, triggered by the soil bacterium Mycobacterium vaccae, which can help people to feel more relaxed and happier. This aligns with on the benefits of "green care"—including social and therapeutic horticulture, care farming and environmental conservation—which has been shown to reduce anxiety, stress, and depression.

Growing native

At the heart of this community-led food justice movement is the belief that both herbalists and everyday gardeners should prioritize cultivating native plants that naturally thrive in their surroundings, rather than relying on plants from distant regions, that require harvesting, processing and transportation over long distances using fossil fuel energy.

This ethos underpins the work of a growing network of women from the , who meet regularly at the community-led Calders Garden in Edinburgh to exchange experiences while growing, foraging and making their own herbal medicines.

The vital role of communities as growers and foragers in urban resilience has largely been overlooked by city officials, urban planners and developers. Yet, these community-led efforts are bringing more life and vitality to urban spaces, fostering biodiversity, regenerating soil health and reducing the carbon footprint embedded in industrial food systems.

Several of the women I interviewed believe that being thoughtful consumers involves also taking part in producing what they eat, while reducing food waste at all stages of production. Women are also leading the way by repurposing vacant lots and development sites for community gardening and herbal medicine kitchens while integrating local food production into urban planning and building codes.

Regulatory measures that tie planning approval of new developments to the provision of open space for garden cultivation—either on-site or within the neighboring area—can ensure that urban agriculture becomes an integral part of city planning. In cities, growing and foraging together deepens social links, encourages more diversified diets, reduces food miles and fosters a regenerative approach to community health care.

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