March 2010

Let's break the pot

I don’t think there’d be a social entrepreneur on the planet who doesn’t have Nobel Laureate Muhammad Yunus as their hero and guiding light. Well today I was privileged enough to have lunch with him – me and about 400 other people at the Business for Millennium Development luncheon. (Thanks to the Centre for Social Impact for their generous lunch invitation!)

From the first loan of $27 he gave out to some poor Bangladeshi women in 1974, Muhammad’s Grameen Bank has now lifted millions out of poverty by disbursing $6.6 billion in tiny loans.

Although much of the world is breaking their Millennium Development Goal promise to halve poverty by 2015, Bangladesh is tracking well. And Muhammad’s tireless work over the last 25 years is having real impact, particularly for women and their children. The primary and secondary school system is now comprised of 65% of girls and Bangladesh’s whole society is being transformed as a result. In his words a Bangladeshi woman can now say, “I’m in the driver’s seat of my life.” His talk seemed particularly fitting given that yesterday we also celebrated International Women’s Day.

One Water will be stocked on STREAT's carts

Good news for conscious consumers. We’ve been sourcing the beverages for our first food cart in Fed Square, and just settled on One Water for our water suppliers.

All of the profits from sales of One Water help communities’ access clean water. They build roundabouts in developing countries, so when kids play on the roundabout, the force that is generated pumps water for use in the village. This frees up the time of women and children who would otherwise be collecting water from far away, increases education levels in the community, and even promotes playing.

In selecting suppliers and products to trade from our food carts, I often ask myself three simple questions:-

  • Does the product benefit disadvantaged individuals or communities?
  • Does this product responsibly consider the environment?
  • Is there a financial premium for using this ethical product ?

I believe that One Water is great example of a product which recognises its potential to effect large scale, positive changes to the lives of disadvantaged communities. The product and the business model are simple and offer the customer a moment to consider “you know what, I’ve got it pretty good”.

Anyway, hoping that you enjoy the product and take some time to appreciate the back story to this amazing yet humble little bottle of water.

No crapuccino for our K Rudd

Not sure how many of you guys read today’s Age, but I had to laugh when I read that Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono got busted by quarantine bringing rare luwak coffee into Australia for K Rudd and the family. Luwak coffee for those who don’t know is coffee made from coffee beans that have been excreted by a civet cat. OK, so no crapuccino for Mr Prime Minister.

Maybe we’ll send him a bag of STREAT’s finest fair-trade organic non-excreted beans.

Why aren't we trading?

We’re a week late to begin trade in Federation Square. Everyone is chomping at the bit to get out there. Here’s a look at our last 10 days and the process, problem-solving, and sheer communal willpower it’s taking us to get out the food carts operation at Fed Square.

For everyone waiting on some hot street hawker food—thank you for staying tuned. We should be trading next week. There are just some things you can’t foresee in a startup.

The setup is this: Bec did an ABC radio interview on the 28th of February, 2010 where she said that the carts launch the first week of March.

Wednesday 3 March:

  • Carts arrive in trucks from Brisbane.
  • Team roll carts out.
  • Plugs don’t match power sockets.

Thursday 4 March:

  • Carts get branded.
  • Oven manufacturer arrives to program ovens.
  • Can’t turn them on because the plugs are incompatible.

Friday 5 March:

  • Health inspector supposed to issue license to operate. License not issued because we have a problem with the sink.
  • We need a new sink unit.
  • Contact manufacturers to get a new unit.
  • Food delivered for cool storage.
  • Food packaging arrives.

The pie revolution comes to STREAT

Willkommen, ladies and gentlemen, to today’s edition of the esteemed Pie Blog. Although new to STREAT, the Pie Blog has been around in various guises for a while now, and things are looking great. We’ve been getting some pretty good press lately, with write-ups in the Gore Weekly, the Taumarunui Sun, and Wodonga’s version of the TV Guide; Matt from MasterChef has been trying to get hold of my vast amount of pie puns; even Australian PM Kevin Rudd is getting in on the action: as the Women’s Weekly reports, he’s held more than his share of pie parties in Parliament. (He’s apparently also trying to push a referendum to officially change the name to Pieliament. Whether this is a good idea, I’m not so sure. Religion and politics shouldn’t mix). It seems the Pie Revolution is spreading, carried from town to town by truck drivers and travelling salesmen, along with VD and a bunch of crap from China.

What could you live without?

Leave me my booksNick Kristof just wrote about a family that sold their house for a smaller one, downsizing and giving half the money they made to a good cause. It came about as an attempt to live authentically to the principles the parents were teaching their children. At first glance the story sounds improbable, giddy, an irresponsible way to live.

A friend brought this article to my attention, asking if “an ideologically altruistic person” such as myself had considered this idea of practicing what I preach, walking the talk, and all those clichés about personal integrity and values.

It’s a tricky question, to probe how much a person has a moral imperative to sacrifice personal comfort in favour of living in a conscious manner. I had a good think about it, but couldn’t come up with an easy formula that defines an acceptable scope between luxury and conscientiousness. It’s a personal decision. It comes down to your priorities and principles. But my favourite part of the article is how the family explains their actions:

"The aim was to encourage people to step off the treadmill of accumulation, to define themselves by what they give as well as by what they possess."

Whether or not we sacrifice fancy cars, big labels, and eating out, in the wake of this new world order post-GFC, maybe we can all do with an altered perspective on the things we value and the ways we contribute to a better society.

 

This article is cross-posted from my blog, From Sea to Sie.

STREAT welcomes class 1 of trainees

For the last couple of weeks our whole team have been coming and going, some going home sick for days with a weird bug going around the office, others trouble-shooting a myriad of cart electricity or sink issues, others locked in trainee interview sessions for weeks or preparing our orientation program and course materials.

But today we emerged from our own little worlds and gathered to welcome Class 1 to STREAT. We were united by a collective passion to creatively stop youth homelessness using the open marketplace.

We are under no illusions about the difficulty of this task. If stopping youth homelessness was as easy as it sounds it would have been solved long ago. And one only need hear the stories of our youth to understand the complexities of our task.

Our youth have stories of abuse and neglect. Stories of drug or alcohol addictions from the womb. Stories of tragedy and trauma. And stories of living precariously on the edge of our society.

But woven amongst these stories are also stories of hope and youthful optimism. Stories of perseverance and resilience. Stories of compassion and love. Stories of change and transformation.

Today we welcome Justin, Dale, Jennifer, Rayne, Imogen, Andrew, Jamie, Bahareh and Damien. They are our reason for existence.

Your fork in the road for STREAT trainees

On Monday when our first nine youth arrived at STREAT I gave them each a letter which read:

Dear Trainee,

A meal doesn’t have to be just a meal. It can be a way of getting nourishment. It can be a way of sharing and creating memories with friends and family. It can be a way for a community to gather together and pass on traditions. It can be a way to get skills and make a living.

Across your lifetime you’ll have over 80,000 meals.

So far I’ve eaten more than 40,000 of mine. Most of them I can’t remember. But a couple are life-changing.

Why I care about homelessness

Someone asked me why I care about homelessness. How do you begin to explain this? Or to convince them they should care too?

Everyone knows someone (if not ourselves) who just scrapes through, holding out for payday.  Or put things on credit when they really shouldn’t.  Or got sick and didn’t have much sick leave. How few months or even weeks does it take to eat through the savings and have to sell stuff. How many single people out there don’t have a partner or parents to rely on for emergency cash? How many single parents, and their kids, are stuffed if they lose their job?

All of us know someone that is just around the corner from serious debt, whether that’s the credit card, mobile phone bills or car repayments. And then there’s the rent or mortgage. Why do you think so many people live with their parents until they are in their 30s these days? It’s expensive and precarious out there. And it affects all of us. So most of us tell ourselves that the person on the street, or in the shelter or couch surfing has bought it on themselves. This is a completely understandable way to not have to think about the horror of it happening to your brother, your friend, your dad or yourself.

Lamb and roast vegetable

Ahhh, meat pies. That great Antipodean tradition. Wrap some meaty filling in a flaky puff pastry, serve it with chips and a bit of salad and most of us could die happy. Match these golden treats with cold beer and old friends and by Jove, you’ve got my idea of heaven. And I know a lot of other people share these feelings; one person in particular being New Zealand’s Prime Minister Mr John Key. Although I don’t exactly like the man, I do have to respect his love of the pie – in reaction to K-Rudd’s decision to change his office’s name to Pieliament, Mr Key is fast tracking his own name change: from Prime Minister to Pie Minister. And though I said last week that politics and religion shouldn’t mix, I’m in favour of the change, if only to fuel the trans-Tasman rivalry we’ve been putting up with for years. It’s usually over silly things, like rugby, cricket, Phar Lap or Russel Crowe, but now it’s caught up to the important issue of pies, we need to take notice. Sheep shagging jokes are one thing, but stealing NZ’s pie glory is one pastry step too far.

And on that extremely weak segue, let’s talk about this week’s pie – the lamb and roast vegetable pie from Boscastle, which we ate at Jolimont Expresso at Fed Square. You’ll remember me mentioning last time the beer fest in Fed Square’s Atrium, which featured a whole lot of microbreweries, sausages, and one of the best pies I’ve had this side of the Tasman. Nothing makes my taste buds lose their shit more than waiting in a pie-line and hearing people raving about the pies. And after a hard day’s work on the STREAT carts, a good pie is all I wanted (thanks again for talking me into it, Sunisa and Jade). We were not to be disappointed. The pastry – oh, the pastry! Thick and bitey, it held solid right to the last, with pieces of tender lamb and vegetables held firm in the buttery force field. Against all odds, the levee didn’t break, and combined with a newly trimmed moustache, it became one of the tidiest pie sessions ever. Special mention must be made of Ralph of Jolimont’s homemade tomato relish, for which I was happy to break the no condiments rule. Good stuff!

Perhaps Australians really can make pastry? I sure hope so. I feel my mission to find the best pie in the world is only just starting, and with the politicians of the world playing catch up, we all need to perfect the art, and eat more pies, before the soul is sucked out and used for propaganda.

Cross-posted on piefriday.wordpress.com 

Generosity in the everyday

It’s been a big week for STREAT. The trainees are in. We’re trading in Fed Square. And the STREAT team has been rolling up their sleeves, donning the trainers, and pushing those half-tonne carts around the Square morning and late afternoon.

This makes me think about generosity, and what a difference it can make in the everyday. Last month the New York Times (my favourite required reading) wrote about a woman in Brooklyn who is giving $100 dollars to people to give away in creative ways. My old roomates were part of this little experiment, called the Creative Philanthropy  project. Watch them pay people to talk to a stranger, with the option of holding hands with a stranger and walking around Bryant Park. For three walks people were paid $18. It seems like this little experiment produced some unexpected moments of social cohesion—a generous gift among the hustle of city life.

Another friend Charlie wrote on his blog Do Good Well about how social enterprise benefits from a culture of generosity. Traditional businesses compete for market share, whereas social business will thrive the more we grow the field. Our customers benefit when offered diverse options so that they can choose to consume responsibly across as many products and services as possible. This is intuitive and practical reasoning.

I’ve seen some old-fashioned generosity happening in Melbourne as well. Last month Social Traders and STREAT co-hosted the “Socially-enterprising Foodie’s Forum” (now a quarterly event) so that players in the food and social enterprise space can exchange ideas and learn from one another. Maybe one day this will develop into a network for consumers, a benchmark like Fair Trade that certifies social and environmental outcomes, but for now it’s enough to exchange lessons learned as the industry starts to form. Social enterprise is new to Australia, and any exchange of resources and hob-nobbing of like-minded folk is bound to produce good outcomes.

I’ve spent the last week dividing my time between the food carts in Federation Square and the orientation of the STREAT trainees. At Fed Square we’re interrupting people’s busy days to pitch the idea of a social enterprise helping homeless youth by  selling street hawker food. Despite the crazy (or crazy audacious) idea that it is, we’ve got good reception so far, and even offers from people who want to volunteer, and help spread the word that STREAT has come to town. The trainees have been doing a Foodie tour of the Victoria Market and getting their uniforms from William Angliss. In the midst of this, there’s a whole host of people—staff and volunteers—who are working flat-out to make the trainees’ experience as positive and engaging as possible. That effort is generous indeed. After all, it’s the little moments of individual generosity that build a greater culture. It can be the smallest interactions that change a person’s world view towards a wider embrace of their potential, and what they can achieve.

So what moments of generosity have you experienced?

What has touched your life and changed its direction?

How do you give gladly and give well?

Walk a mile in my shoes

It’s a truism that if you walk a mile in a person’s shoes, you will really know them. Today RMIT writing students and STREAT trainees walked that mile together. Here are some of their stories.

Easters coming, rabbits and chocolates everywhere. No sign of jesus.

Walking through the walk arcade.

A red streat sticker placed firmly on barts blue arse. Love love hosier.

Dragonboat is the place to be! Yum Cha is all the dream!

ANGUS swims beneath the bridge for the last beer

Free shaving gel given on a street corner. But now i have to carry it all day

I been hit by a pushie

Shiny red apple boy. You shine up my life.

We loved that alley, you and i. We wrapped in night and gin, the whole first year a blur.

Tell him I don't want to go to Pony Laura. He wants to kiss you.

Bottled on a winter's night. Can't talk can't speak. Yet fuck i could stick my tongue through my cheek.

And when I can afford it the 7/11 is my fluorscent heaven. I ruffle the dirty change and buy a sweet tooth pink doughnut

 

 

Come eat with STREAT

You’ve probably guessed it by now, but let’s announce it with some fanfare—our STREAT food carts are now trading in Federation Square! After much pushing, pulling and last-minute repairing, we are serving yummy street hawker food at an affordable price.

You have to see it to believe it. We actually manage to cook Thai papaya salad, Jamaican jerk chicken wrap with pineapple salsa, lamb seekh kebab, Kashmiri chickpea curry, and chicken satay all on one little cart. Each meal is under $10. All money from the cart pays for us to send homeless and disadvantaged young people through their hospitality Certificate II training.

Come visit us on the carts! You can find us here. 

To Undies Monday or not to Undies Monday? That is the question

About four weeks ago Vanessa, one of our youth workers, sent around an email to the team requesting we bring in old magazines for our youth creative program. The email coincided with a discussion I’d just had with Sahil Merchant (pictured above) the founder and Chief Magazinologist at Mag Nation, that wonderful home of all things magazine. Sahil and his team had just dreamt up Undies Monday, a promotion being run across the month of March. All you had to do is walk into a Mag Nation store in Australia or New Zealand in your underwear and you get to choose a magazine of your choice up to the value of $50.

So I suggested the whole STREAT team do Undies Monday and we kick-start the youth library together.

Every Monday this month I’ve unsuccessfully tried to round up the crew. Now granted we’ve had a few other things on the last couple of Mondays (big stuff like our youth arriving or us kick-starting our street cafe at Fed Square). But today wasn’t any better. Everyone was too busy. Or they weren’t wearing the right undies. Or they thought it was too weird to be in their undies with their boss. Or they didn’t want to inflict themselves visually on others. Or they hadn’t done the necessary manscaping.

Should I go alone? Yes, because I’d been the one trying to hype up everyone else to do it.

So I jumped on the 109 tram and headed into Elizabeth St.

Just as I was about to get off the tram a thought struck me. What if doing it backfired and somehow damaged STREAT’s reputation? Is it weird for the CEO of a youth organisation to walk into a shop in their underwear to get resources for the youth in their program? Would potential funders, particularly the more conservative ones, see such behaviour as highly risky leadership behaviour and be cautious about investing in STREAT? What would the Board say? Or would people just laugh if they found out? Did it make a difference that I’d decided to do it for STREAT and not personally? Would it be the act of the leader of a youth organisation showing they could embrace their inner silliness and hadn’t lost their youthful side? Or could it be distorted by others as just plain creepy?

Quite coincidently when I arrived at Mag Nation Sahil was sitting out the front of the store dealing with his own dilemmas. He was waiting outside for ABC radio who were doing a live cross to the store whilst he was simultaneously fending off a pervert who had found out about the promotion and had positioned himself outside.

So Sahil and I ended up sitting on the street outside the store (whilst keeping an eye on the perve who was still circling) and debating our various choices and dilemmas as CEOs. We discussed how little decisions can have unintended consequences, both good and bad. For Sahil it had been great that the promo had gone viral and lots of people had been made happy by getting their favourite mag free. It was also good that the ABC and other media wanted to give their listeners a laugh. And the free promo Mag Nation was receiving was worth gold for the store, even after factoring in the high cost of the giveaways. But how to deal with the unintended consequence of the media coverage drawing out perverts? And what to do when the promo goes viral and can potentially ruin the store? And what should one do when an 18 year-old school girl turns up in her school uniform for the promo? Or what to do when you get a call from a stressed staff member because a woman wearing see through plastic underwear is making everyone feel uncomfortable?

Yesterday I walked out of the store with the latest Semi-Permanent art mag in my bag. You’ll probably never know if I bought it or got it for free. Either way the most valuable take-home was seeing how easily little decisions can have bigger consequences. 

I’d love your feedback about what I should have done.