Nourishment is one of the most essential aspects to life. So when a person takes it upon themselves to dedicate their precious time on earth to the health of their fellow humans, that’s pretty darn special. Rhys-Thorvald Hansen is an amazing example of someone who understands the importance of that fundamental need, and — for a number of years — has spent countless hours driving community partnerships, working toward food system harmony, and keeping an elusive art from dying out.
“It’s been pretty variable,” says Hansen. “I care more about the people I’m collaborating with than anything else. I’ve worked in food systems, a variety of nonprofits, and my core areas of interest have been about inviting people to be in a deeper relationship with the land they live on and the people that have been the stewards of that.”
Right here in Whatcom, Hansen is helping to facilitate a better, more fruitful food system than ever before. “The organization I work with, Whatcom Food Network, was working to create a food policy council for more than a decade, and that led to the creation of the Whatcom County Food System Committee,” Hansen says. “Then the committee spent four years putting together a 10-year food system plan, really trying to make it connected to the community and not just institutions, so it feels great to have that reflected as something people value. They can see our efforts to try and have a healthy food system here in the county.”
Hansen currently devotes much of their time to Hollyhock, a leadership and wellness organization on Cortes Island in British Columbia. “We host a variety of programs including wellness retreats for Yoga, reiki retreats, as well as climate advocacy training, and programs to support social enterprises,” Hansen says. “Then, I also work for Whatcom Food Network and contract with a couple of other organizations doing event production and cultural safety in the classroom for LGBTQ people and indigenous youth. So my work crosses many industries.”
Before Hansen found their niche in food systems, they grew up in Snohomish and lived in various places around Puget Sound. “I spent a lot of time in Tacoma, and then Orcas Island before I moved to Whatcom County five years ago,” says Hansen. “I got into food systems by reading Michael Pollan’s “The Omnivore’s Dilemma” as a 19-, 20-year-old, and I dropped out of college to work on an organic farm. I’ve stayed really connected to and have been passionate about food systems work ever since then.”
At its core, food is a seemingly simple and basic necessity that Hansen believes to be one of the most important bonds among humans. “I’ve worked a lot in food cooperatives and economic development for farm and food businesses,” they say. “Food connects everyone together and offers an opportunity to find common ground when there’s a lot of disconnection and discord happening in the world right now.”
Going even further, Hansen has found in their work with food systems another important aspect to their purpose. “I’m queer, I’m trans non-binary and I’ve always felt a responsibility to folks in my community who didn’t have the same type of economic and social privileges I have had to create safer spaces for them and the next generation.”
Working in various organizations focused on food goes hand-in-hand with steady community involvement. Hansen is especially drawn to facilitating hearty and significant policy to help alleviate real problems in food systems and beyond.
“Policy, in general, is kind of a deeply unsexy thing,” says Hansen. “It’s really slow-moving and involves a lot of compromising and jumping through hoops. Getting involved in policy work, I really care about helping set up solid foundations or solid economic policy. It’s beyond that, though. We talk a lot at the food network about creating a solidarity economy where everybody who is involved in the production and transportation and cooking of food is treated well and has access to the food they have a hand in.”
As if the comprehensive list of community work was not enough, you can also find Hansen using artistry to accomplish their passions and keep a rare artform alive. “As my other side-hustle, I’m an artist and a facilitator,” they say. “I’ve been focusing on strategic planning and using art as a way to build community relationships. I practice a traditional Norse art called skinfeller, which is an endangered craft, so I’ve been working on practicing that and making sure it survives here in the U.S.”
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