When people hear that my parents own a farm, they usually assume I know how to grow food. The truth is, I’m still completely new to it. I never had much interest in farming or gardening growing up. That only started to change last year when I took an Indigenous Food Sovereignty class and visited the UBC Farm. Listening to people speak about the spiritual relationship between humans, plants, and  land made me see trees and crops as something more than just resources. Since then, I haven’t looked at nature the same way. Even with that new perspective, I had never actually grown anything myself. So when we planted our first seeds in the garden, it felt like taking a small but meaningful step into a world I had only observed from a distance. I finally understand why people say, “My plants are my babies”. I constantly worry about whether I’m watering them enough or not while checking on them more often than I expected. That experience also made me think differently about the larger food system. If someone like me (who never cared much about gardening) can become attached to a few seedlings in such a short time, how do people who work with food production every day allow powerful corporations to exploit their land and the living things they depend on? 

Reading about food crime made this contradiction impossible to ignore. Tourangeau and Fitzgerald explain that many harmful practices, including preventable animal suffering and deaths during transportation, are often accepted simply as the cost of doing business rather than treated as serious harms. That realization was frustrating because it showed how profit can outweigh care. The readings on green cultural criminology pushed my thinking even further. Brisman and South argue that modern consumer culture encourages endless consumption while disconnecting people from the environmental consequences of their choices. Instead of respecting nature, it is now considered a commodity that exists only to be bought, sold, and exploited. Looking at our tiny plants, I found it difficult to imagine treating living things as disposable products. My experience in the garden also connects with cyan criminology, which combines green and blue criminology by recognizing that environmental harms on land often affect water systems as well. The choices made in agriculture (whether through pesticides, pollution, or corporate practices) do not stop at the edge of a field. They flow into rivers, lakes, and oceans, affecting ecosystems far beyond where the harm begins. More than anything, this garden experience has made environmental issues feel personal instead of abstract. It reminded me that caring for even one small plant creates a sense of responsibility. If more people had that connection, perhaps it would be harder to ignore the environmental harms caused by industries that prioritize profit over the health of the land, animals, and communities that they depend on

Generative AI Acknowledgement: AI was used to fix the grammar and improve the flow – the central idea and reflection was created by the author. 

Sources

  • Brisman, A., & South, N. Green Cultural Criminology. (Course reading)
  • Tourangeau, W., & Fitzgerald, A. J. Food Crime and Green Criminology. (Course reading)