Farewells, Farmers Markets and Finding One’s Value

I moved to Greenville, South Carolina six years ago to launch a new location for a growing business I was running at the time, and as part of that became a vendor selling at the Travelers Rest Farmers Market. Soon thereafter, I was asked if I’d have any interest in joining their board as a vendor member. They needed a few more hands on deck, and said they could use the perspective of someone newer to the market and with my experience.

I knew little to nothing about farmers markets at the time and had never served on a board in any capacity up to that point, but thought “sure, why not?” I figured it couldn’t be that difficult to do, and, if nothing else, would at least help me to get connected and stay informed on things that could potentially affect my business and sales.

So it made sense. I joined, but, in all honesty, was not an active participant or helpful member by any measure. In fact, looking back, I’d go as far as to say that I was probably pretty lousy. I attended monthly meetings by typically rushing in at the last minute, listened but rarely spoke up, voted on things I gave little thought to and then went about my business. No harm, no foul. The market seemed to continue on all the same, and so did I.

Fast forward to two weeks ago, as I became emotional closing out my final meeting after having served on the board for the last five years, and as President for the past two… one of which just happening to take place during a global pandemic where, just as everyone else, we had no clue how or if we would even be able to operate going into the season. Ending my time feeling insanely proud of the things we accomplished, and immensely grateful for both the opportunity I’d been given to lead and the community that I cultivated around me as a result of it all.

So, what changed? To have gone from an unengaged participant that primarily joined because I thought I could likely get something out of it for myself, to getting choked up and shedding quite a few tears as the team I’d helped build and lead surprised me with a commemorative plaque for my time served. What internal switch had gotten flipped to make such a difference?

Well, I certainly learned more of the overall in’s and out’s of serving on a nonprofit board and the operations of a farmers market as time went on, but that had no real bearing on my actual motivation or interest. I can tell you that it also wasn’t about it being easy or simply wanting to have an attractive title on my resume either, because if 2020 proved anything it was just how hard and fragile running a business of any kind can be. And how being ready and willing to be on the receiving end of making difficult, often confrontational, decisions just comes with the territory of having said title. I mean, the Presidential role and title was cool and all, but the last thing I wanted my name attached to was a PR nightmare in the middle of a pandemic.

The answer was ultimately my perspective. And, more specifically, the perspective of my own value.

I changed it, and it, in turn, began to change me.

I eventually realized that I was not there for myself or to get what I could from merely sitting on the board, but rather was there to serve others in my community by giving and contributing what I could with what I had. Understanding that I was not there to make sure the market just continued on as usual, but was instead there to proactively help change and evolve it.

My initial perspective was one in which I did not see myself being of any value to the market due to my lack of knowledge with boards, nonprofits, farmers markets, etc., and; therefore, didn’t feel as if I had anything to truly contribute. I told myself I was of no value, and, following that mindset, acted as such.

But at some point, something just clicked. I may not have known anything of boards, nonprofits or markets at the time, but I did know about sales, marketing, websites, analytics, building companies and company culture. I knew about customer service, fundraising, making products, and getting sweaty to get things done. And it was that perspective, experience and value that I was asked to be on the board for in the first place.

So, in the ways that I could, I began to contribute a little. And then a lot. And other members of the board, both new and old, did the same.

I used my knowledge of websites, digital marketing and analytics to help redesign and develop our website, installed Google Analytics tracking to better measure and evaluate what worked (and didn’t), applied for and received the Google Ad Grant to run up to $10,000 in free Google search ads per month, set up and designed a monthly newsletter through Mailchimp, and pulled together a year-end market recap report of stats and data to use for things like grant writing and corporate fundraising to better show the true value that the market added to its customers, vendors, sponsors and overall community.

I leaned into the areas in which I could add value, and, coincidentally, the more I gave, the more I got back in return.

And it was this same mindset of understanding our value and changing perspective, that we as a market not only managed to survive as a community based event in 2020 (most of which were shut down due to COVID), but grew in ways that we hadn’t even considered or imagined possible. Transforming from a place to simply grab produce, baked goods and a cup of coffee, to a reprieve from the madness. We were a sight for sore eyes at the end of a long week. A neighborly friend with whom there was comfort in catching up. A safe space in which the community could, in essence, be a community.

We had lost certain grants, funding and revenue as a result of the times being faced, and were unfortunately unable to hold our largest and most profitable fundraiser of the year - the beloved Tomato Sandwich Taste-Off. But, as a team, we focused on the areas in which we could add value to the community and made several creative pivots to fundraise and generate new revenue. We rallied together to acquire new grants, opened additional market dates, wrote and printed a community cookbook, found new ways to promote ourselves, and volunteered more of our own free time, money, labor, etc.

We became more efficient out of necessity, and more community minded for the same reason.

And just as I grew by recognizing my own value and ways to help the market, the market grew by recognizing it’s value and ways to better help the community.

So it’s with a great sense of pride that I’ll now be retiring my straw hat and sleeping in on Saturday mornings. Forever grateful for the lessons learned and things that the Travelers Rest Farmers Market taught me… not only about business, nonprofits, and serving on boards, but about building a community and finding value in myself.