An Abolitionist Pod Grows in Inglewood

During the COVID-19 pandemic in 2021, Crenshaw Dairy Mart, an art collective and gallery space in Inglewood, California, received an auspicious appliance. The Inglewood Community Fridge, a project by Juice Wood and Vernon Yancy, found its place outside the space’s gate and provided food to many of its neighbors.

Ashley Blakeney, executive director of Crenshaw Dairy Mart, recognized their community’s profound need for the fridge. “Communities of color, specifically Black and brown communities, were severely underserved, under-resourced, and essentially neglected during the pandemic,” she says. The fridge aligned with the art collective’s mission to alleviate poverty and economic injustice by nourishing its community.

The birth of an idea

The simple act of restocking the fridge and feeding their neighbors became a practice that planted the seeds for a larger vision. Blakeney was inspired: “What would it look like if we had these beautiful artistic sculptural structures that could provide produce and plants for our community?” she wondered. The arts group also envisioned the structures as a place to talk about abolition, dismantle harmful and oppressive systems, and create and imagine new systems centering care and support and prioritizing human beings.

They collaborated with Héctor Covarrubias of Estudio Terrestre, Robert Andrade, and Pink Sparrow to design and fabricate the prototype, ending up with a 20-foot diameter, steel, bamboo, and canvas structure inspired by Buckminster Fuller’s geodesic domes. Fuller considered himself a “philosopher of shelter” because of his views on housing justice, specifically in the ways that you could make a geodesic dome out of the most limited number of scarce materials in the most affordable way. Crenshaw Dairy Mart’s co-founders also wanted an energy-efficient structure that could sustain heat year-round.

After the solar-powered structure was erected, Ms. Waunette Cullors, master gardener, sourced 1,200 plants from local Black farmers and hired different Black farmers to participate in caring for the plants and the structure. They were guided by three central values: rest, care, and joy.

A new kind of public art

Three months after the idea sparked, the first abolitionist pod was installed in the parking lot at The Geffen Contemporary at MOCA. “It was beautiful to have a sculpture that was accessible to the public and not through the white walls of a museum,” remembers Blakeney. “You didn’t need to go through some stanchion. It wasn’t a ticketed engagement.”

Neighbors streamed in from Little Tokyo, seeking food and respite. They also found a sense of community, helmed by Crenshaw Dairy Mart co-founder ali reza dorriz, who sat inside the pod five days a week from sunrise to sunset. “We also had unhoused neighbors at the time living in Toriomi Plaza who often sought respite in the abolitionist pod, which was so beautiful to offer,” says reza dorriz. Some visitors brought seeds, and some returned announcing they’d learned to cook collard greens. Many of them learned about abolitionist principles.

“What feels most important about the pod program is introducing an abolitionist vocabulary to individuals,” says reza dorriz. “Just by having your hands in soil, the abolitionist pod can tell you everything you need to know about abolitionism. One plant is withering. It needs more water. Its needs are unmet. This plant has too much sun. It needs pruning.”

Unexpected outcomes

While the pod was a success, it also presented unique challenges. Before the installation at MOCA, the Crenshaw Dairy Mart team engaged in what co-founder Patrisse Cullors calls “courageous conversations” with their collaborative partners. For example, they spoke with the team at MOCA, whose security team is directly affiliated with the Los Angeles Police Department, about guarding the pod. Blakeney remembers MOCA viewing the pod as an expensive art piece needing protection. Crenshaw Dairy Mart felt differently. Blakeney says they were clear that they didn’t want the pod policed. “We’re people over property, not property over people,” she says.

The compromise? Crenshaw Dairy Mart and MOCA brought in an abolitionist security firm to keep an eye out for the pod. Blakeney has a favorite anecdote about that decision. Toward the end of the pod’s run—from May to June 2021—they asked the security firm if anything ever happened to the pod, or if there were any concerns during its tenure. “And they were like, yeah, a duck,” Blakeney laughs. “A duck walked into the pod in the middle of the night. And that was it.”

Future plans

After its MOCA residency, the first abolition pod returned to Crenshaw Dairy Mart. Today, it is permanently installed in their parking lot—or sculpture garden—as Blakeney affectionately refers to it, as the lot also contains a sculpture from artist Damon Davis’s prox•im•i•ty installation. The Inglewood community fridge is still situated a few feet away.

In March of 2022, Crenshaw Dairy Mart’s second abolitionist pod began permanently residing at the Hilda L. Solis Care First Village, an interim housing facility that provides 232 beds for people experiencing houselessness. The facility aligns with LA County’s commitment to a “Care First, Jail Last” framework―offering services and healing for community members to prevent incarceration as a first and only response.

And for Getty PST ART: Art & Science Collide, Crenshaw Dairy Mart is presenting the exhibition, Free the Land! Free the People!, A study of the abolitionist pod. This survey and studio feature the collective’s ongoing research for the abolitionist pod, with illustrations, archival documentation, architectural renderings, and drawings of the geodesic structure prototype as they engage with a history of collectives and cooperatives at the interstices of food justice, land sovereignty, and the Black Liberation Movement.

When Blakeney reflects on the success of the pods as hubs for generating food and essential conversations, the memory of writing grants for the project back in 2021 humbles her. She recalls that the original vision was to build ten pods a year in public spaces across the county: in parks, libraries, and places where people who need them have access. That vision remains unchanged.

While the plan was ambitious back then, she quickly learned that such projects take time for them to be as well-intentioned as they want. The digital oral history archive has been an exercise in analyzing and identifying what has worked. And collaboration between many individuals has been a critical factor in the pod’s success. “Abolition happens in community, not in a vacuum,” says Blakeney.

Heather MacDonald, a senior program officer at the Getty Foundation, reflects on Crenshaw Dairy Mart’s grant-supported participation in PST ART and reveals more of their plans. “For PST ART, Crenshaw Dairy Mart is activating the idea of the abolitionist pod through programming, including workshops on medicinal plants and a Black LA farmer’s meetup and market. They’ve reimagined their work for public audiences.”

As Crenshaw Dairy Mart continues to catalyze social change through its network of geodesic domes, teeming with arrayed forms of nourishment, we all can take something from the power of living art, science, and community building.