From the Editor: Building your village starts at the farmers market

When people ask if I’m free on Sunday, the answer is always no. As my favourite day of the week, it’s booked and busy all summer long.

A dirty chai latte (iced, of course) or matcha (with oat milk, duh), tote bag slung over my shoulder, and Birkenstocks in sport mode are the recipe for a perfect Sunday.

The end of the weekend is reserved solely for farmers markets.

Visiting my local market isn’t just about shopping — it’s about community. While perusing stalls and picking the best heirloom tomato is all fun and games, my favourite part about Sundays is catching up with farmers and creatives.

It’s because of the people I’ve met that I return every weekend.

Despite B.C.’s sprawling forests and nature, just five per cent of the province is agricultural land.

Blueberries are a plant nearly synonymous with B.C.’s farming industry. Yet, climate change and rising costs, packed with declining revenue and an oversaturated market, mean blueberry farming just isn’t what it used to be.

B.C. farmers lost $156 million in 2025 — the most of any Canadian province. Farmers here haven’t made a profit since 2017.

Supporting local is even more important to me because my family has been farming for generations, first in Punjab and now in Surrey for nearly a decade. This isn’t just a weekend activity but a livelihood.

Summer days are overtaken by the burning-hot farm stand, weighing never-ending crates of blueberries (and eating berries straight from the plants), and bustling farmers markets.

From inside the stall, markets are a completely different feeling. They involve picking fresh produce late into the night and early the next morning, setting up red gingham tablecloths to plate our produce, and the smell of fresh mint beckoning people to wander over.

My favourite time at the market is right before it opens. I feel giddy — whether from excitement or heat exhaustion — to meet new and old friends, chat about what my family grows, and provide joy through food.

Don’t get me wrong — there are downsides to farm life. The books I read at the farm stand always arrive home dusty and my water bottle runs dry too early — issues B.C. farmers know all about with dry conditions, droughts, and heat waves. But witnessing the quiet of a sunset in an empty field, surrounded by just a few coyotes, is an image I can never forget.

Supporting local isn’t difficult. It’s about committing to your community. Yes, local produce can be more expensive, but it’s reflective of where we live. Farm input costs in B.C. are 36 per cent higher than pre-pandemic levels.

Nine in 10 Canadians say supporting local is important to them, and many are willing to pay more. Over half are prepared to spend an extra $5 to buy a product locally, and a third would pay $10 more.

Supporting local is possible even on campus. The KPU Farm grows organic produce through sustainable and regenerative practices, while supporting student learning. Buy produce ethically grown by students at the Kwantlen Farmers Market every Tuesday in Richmond.

Losing local farms to climate change and rising costs won’t be a quiet shuttering of doors. It means losing access to food amidst rising global warming, with rural communities experiencing the brunt of it.

People will notice the local farm they didn’t pay attention to once they’re priced out of the fresh berries, corn, and other produce that made their summers memorable. Don’t wait until your local farmer has a for-sale sign up to connect to your village.

And before you ask, no. Sundays are berry busy.