Bringing Hope to the Park City through Direct Service Programs

nOURish BLOGPORT

Distributing Hope

Distributing Hope

By Chris Carbone

Accretion needn’t have a negative connotation. Growth can mean many things—if the accumulation that feeds it involves new acts of service, then we are all for it. Part of nOURish being ‘community-anchored’ is realizing that you can’t do it alone. By that same token, we recognize that other folks with similar goals of building some kind of bridge towards hope are not lone wolves either. The recognition and rush to fulfill need is an organic reaction of the compassionate. Haven’s Harvest, a non-profit that serves as a food rescue agency for the greater New Haven area, recently connected us with Whole Foods’ Metro Kitchen, and chose nOURish BRIDGEPORT as the distribution hub for food rescues coming from their kitchens to food pantries and soup kitchens across Bridgeport. Needless to say, this is huge, and it’s got us thinking a lot about our roots—how it started and how we got to where we are.

 

                                                                   *

 

  Feel The Warmth, our mobile community hot supper, was the first in our catalog of direct-service programs. After all, soup kitchens are the most direct forms of service towards the hungry in our community—serving folks who are primarily unhoused or in transitional housing (residences which often don’t have kitchens).

  But hunger is not solely a symptom of being unhoused. Neither a job, a paycheck, an apartment or even a car—those duplicitous symbols of security, can guarantee that one knows where their next meal is coming from. So we met this need, too. Today, our Super Food Pantry provides up to 500 of our neighborhood families weekly with groceries in a dignified shoppers-choice setting. 

  Food is first. Food is most vital, but it is only the starting point. Humans need nourishment in order to do anything, but after food facilitates healthy bodies and sharpens minds, what comes next? Education, naturally. Just as people cannot hope to thrive on an empty stomach, success in their new homes without knowing the language nor holding citizenship status, is elusive. We started our English Language and Citizenship Classes to invest in our immigrant neighbors’ futures and wellbeing beyond the power of a good meal. 

  Then we realized that quantity can only go so far—that the site of brown lettuce evokes almost as cold and stark a feeling as looking down at an empty plate. The reality of being in a food desert and food swamp simultaneously is that there is little access to healthy food, yet a surplus of junk food, with every other corner sporting a fast food restaurant. So we built nOURish INDOOR FARM, the first non-profit indoor hydroponic farm in Connecticut, so we could supply our neighbors with some of the freshest, most nutrient-dense produce around. 

 

                                                                  *

 

  With 2025 having been a year of growth unprecedented in the history of nOURish BRIDGEPORT, an honest question is broached: is this, for an organization like ours, good? Does it not signify that, while a large portion of our city’s hungry folks are being fed, and those around us who are able to do something about it are meeting the moment with unprecedented generosity, that there are larger forces at play? If we may answer, the need is enormous and growing. nOURish is privileged to do our small part in alleviating this need. But with privilege comes responsibility. What that looks like for us right now is using our newfound means to help like-minded organizations do their work—to spark the fire of benevolence and service in their neighborhoods; in their spheres of need.

  Who knew all those years ago that we would reach the level of a small food distribution hub? We are so grateful to Haven's Harvest for tapping us to take on this task. We are dismayed that there is still so much of a need, but we are more than willing to help other folks help those in need; because, even if they don’t live in our neighborhood, they are still our neighbors.

Chris Carbone