Fresh Food on Every Corner: What La Ceja Taught Me About Food Deserts in Florida

When I visited La Ceja, a small town in Antioquia, Colombia, something immediately stood out. Almost every block had a little produce shop—legumbrerías or tiendas—overflowing with fruits, herbs, and vegetables. They weren’t fancy or modern. Just simple corner stores with crates of papayas, tomatoes, cilantro, and citrus spilling onto the sidewalk.

People walked home with bags of fresh food. Vendors chatted with neighbors. It was normal. And it made me realize how not normal that is in many parts of the U.S., especially where I live.

A view inside a small neighborhood tienda. In Colombia, shops like these are everywhere—no car needed.

Living in Abundance, Surrounded by Scarcity

I live in Redland, South Florida—a farming area that grows a considerable share of the nation’s fruits and vegetables. You’d think access to fresh food would be simple. But it’s not.

The closest shops are usually gas stations. You’ll find chips, sodas, and maybe some hot dogs—but rarely fresh fruits, and certainly not vegetables. There’s farmland everywhere, but the people who live here often can’t afford or easily access the food they help grow.

That reality is what led me, during my time at TREC, to create a food desert map using USDA data. I was asked to do it because of my background in graphic design—I didn’t even know what the term food desert meant at the time. But as I started digging into the data, I learned that a food desert is defined as an area where residents have limited access to affordable, healthy food, especially fresh produce. The USDA considers a community a food desert if it is both low-income and located more than one mile (in urban areas) or ten miles (in rural areas) from the nearest supermarket.

At first, it was just another mapping task. But the more I worked on it, the more it opened my eyes. And soon, it became personal.

As the map showed, I was living in a place full of farms, but with almost no access to fresh food.

This is the map I created using USDA data as part of the South Florida Community Urban Food Hub project, led by UF/IFAS Extension Broward County.

When the Map Met Reality

After I shared the map, I received an email from someone unhappy with the results. They were uncomfortable seeing their neighborhood labeled as a food desert and questioned the validity of the data. I understood the discomfort, but at the same time, the message stayed with me for days.

At first, I didn’t know how to respond. I felt frustrated. Sometimes, when we have access to everything we need, it’s easy to overlook how others live. The reaction reminded me how privilege can make it hard to see inequality, even when it’s mapped out in front of us.

And then, something happened that helped me find the right words.

The Storm That Brought Clarity

One afternoon, I was leaving Publix during one of our classic summer storms. As I got to my car, an older man approached me and asked if I could give him a ride home.

I hesitated. But he explained that he usually walks 10 minutes to a bus stop, takes the bus to shop for groceries, and walks back. That day, it had been raining hard for over an hour, and he needed to get home to his sick wife. So I said yes.

He sat in the back, as if he were taking an Uber, and we talked on the way. He told me he was from Cuba, had lived in the United States for 30 years, and had slowly lost his eyesight. He couldn’t drive anymore. What took me 10 minutes by car took him over 30 by bus and walking—every time he needed to buy food.

That’s when I decided to reply to the email. Not with statistics, but with this story—and with a reminder that food deserts aren’t just about money. They affect elderly people, folks with disabilities, pregnant women, and parents with small kids. It’s about who can reach food, not just who can see it on a map.

What “Access” Really Means

Getting groceries isn’t the same for everyone. A trip can look like this:

• By car: 10 minutes

• By bus: 20–30 minutes (plus waiting in the sun or rain)

• By bike: 15–20 minutes (no bike lanes in many areas)

• Walking: 30–40 minutes, often with no sidewalks or shade

Now add factors such as summer heat, sudden rain, or carrying heavy bags.

Food may exist in theory, but that doesn’t mean people can reach it safely or efficiently.

When walking, biking, or taking the bus, shopping like this is not just convenient—it’s essential.

Why Fresh Food Access Matters

Access to healthy food isn’t just about nutrition—it’s about dignity, health, and connection. Studies show that neighborhoods with limited access to fresh food have higher rates of diet-related diseases like diabetes, obesity, and heart conditions. However, the impact extends beyond physical health.

Fresh food helps build strong communities. Local markets and small stores become gathering places for the community. Gardens and produce stands bring neighbors together. When we remove access, we don’t just harm diets—we harm relationships, independence, and daily routines.

What a Food Desert Looks Like

In my response, I also explained that some of the biggest food deserts in the U.S. aren’t in rural areas—they’re in cities like New York. It’s not just about distance. It’s about mobility, safety, affordability, and dignity.

I wasn’t making a statement or launching a campaign—I was asked to create a map. But through that process, I saw something that’s often invisible unless you’ve lived it: food deserts are real, and they don’t always look like what we expect.

Because you can be surrounded by farmland and still go to bed hungry.

You can live in a city full of grocery stores and still struggle to reach them.

And you can be doing everything right, and still struggle to feed yourself or your family.

This wasn’t just a map. It was a mirror.

And if we want to build a better food system, we need to stop arguing about whether deserts exist—and start planting the seeds of real change.

A reminder: food isn’t just about nutrition—it’s about connection, access, and community.

Further Reading & Resources

• USDA Food Access Research Atlas

• Feeding South Florida

• South Florida Food Policy Council

• South Florida Community Urban Food Hub – UF/IFAS Extension

• La Ceja Government Site