Serving Up More Than Something to Eat

The weather had been calling for blizzards and more than 30 centimetres of snow through the week, but on the day I visit, that doesn’t stop executive director Heather Hayes and the Orangeville Food Bank team from coming into their Commerce Road headquarters to serve their community. “Regardless of the weather, people need food,” Hayes says with an air of wisdom and experience this cold February morning. Even if the roads are closed and the plows are pulled out of service, people will still walk and wait outside for the chance to fill their stomachs with food provided by local citizens and businesses. “We do our best to stay open regardless of what’s going on.”

Hayes has been in her role since fall 2015. She had previously been everything from a foster parent to school bus driver and teacher of cooking classes. She had also run a fish farm and a catering company, cleaned churches and worked as a service co-ordinator for Dufferin Child & Family Services, in addition to serving on Mulmur council and as the township’s deputy mayor. But in September 2015, when the food bank was searching for an executive director, she leapt at the chance to apply – and got the job. “It is where my heart and soul live. Food and people and this building are so important.”

Notable hardships – Covid and inflation top the list – have increased food bank traffic, so the number of people using the bank’s services has risen by a startling 133 per cent – in the few years since the onset of Covid. Through it all, Hayes and about 220 volunteers and 10 staff offer more than something to eat. “It’s the dignity we try to bring to people’s lives every day,” she says. “That’s gotta be worth fighting for.”

4:30–5 A.M. Hayes describes herself as a “silly-o’clock person” when it comes to waking up, but says “it’s a quiet time, nobody calls … it gives me time to get one with the day.” A cup of coffee is poured, and morning cuddles with her golden retriever, Lucy Lou, commence.

6:15 A.M. Hayes takes Lucy Lou to the park for an hour’s play with another dog named Eilish. Lucy Lou’s newest talent has been sniffing out hockey pucks buried in the park’s heavy snow.

8:45 A.M. After listening to CBC Radio during her commute, Hayes arrives at the food bank and checks in with staff and volunteers. Some are helping clear the mountain of snow that built up overnight, and the place is already bustling. Carrie-Anne DeCaprio, the food bank’s manager of donor engagement and outreach, informs the team that one client was waiting in her car at 6 a.m. to get in early for some food. “I’m not sure that any of us have spent three hours waiting for a grocery store to open up to access food,” says Hayes. The sense of urgency about addressing the issue of hunger in Orangeville is palpable.

9:30 A.M. Hayes “farts the pig” (a rubber pig that makes a squawky flatulating sound when squeezed) to signal the staff to get together for the morning briefing. Twenty volunteers and staff assemble to hear the day’s announcements. First, and perhaps most important, that evening’s all-candidates’ debate in advance of the February 27 provincial election. As a debate sponsor, the food bank will have a chance to ask questions relating to food insecurity.

Other issues that come up: the food bank is down to only five boxes of crackers, but Gary Skinn, the warehouse co-ordinator, chimes in that 29 more boxes have been secured offsite. Huzzah! Hayes also notes that Mark Comendador, the in-house chef, has made a pork and ginger soup for clients to sip while they wait their turn to shop. Finally, there is the daily groaner, a joke to start the day: “Why did the mushrooms get invited to the party? Because they are a bunch of fungis!” The farting pig and the groaner bring some much-needed humour to what can be an emotionally demanding job.

10 A.M. The morning meeting wraps, and the first clients arrive. (Hours vary. Check orangevillefoodbank.org.) People of every age, ethnicity and background are here, looking for nutritious food. One client, after standing for too long, becomes woozy and needs to sit. The ever-accommodating volunteers help the client, and Hayes offers water and a candy. Though there is structure to her day, her work is never typical or mundane. She fittingly calls her job “surprise chain management” rather than “supply chain management.”

11 A.M. New volunteers arrive to substitute in and Hayes returns to her office for virtual meetings. There seems to be one every day at about this time. Today, it is with Ontario Health Teams.

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2 P.M. Time to catch up on other jobs within the food bank, including strategic planning, policy setting, and touring the building to check in with staff and volunteers. “Anything that lands in your cart is desperately needed here,” Hayes explains. “We distribute 60,000 pounds of food out the front door, we are bringing 30,000 in the back door. So that is a deficit of 30,000 pounds a month.” What can people do? Well, it’s the little things. “The majority of our donors are people coming in dropping off twenties and hundred-dollar bills … I have got someone who donates $5.17 every month. But I know I can count on that $5.17 every month. And if everyone gave $5.17 every month, we would be okay.”

7–9 P.M. Hayes normally leaves work at about 6:30 or so, but this night, she heads to the political debate at Theatre Orangeville a few minutes away on Broadway. She presses the candidates on important questions such as how they would ensure people who rely on food banks have the resources needed to support their well-being. Though Sylvia Jones, Dufferin-Caledon’s current MPP, did not attend, and Hayes did not get quite the responses she might have liked to hear, she is thankful she was able to raise critical issues with the political hopefuls who did take part.

Once the debate is over, Hayes heads home, back to cuddles with Lucy Lou and off to bed to get ready for another day of following her passion: ensuring that the clients of the Orangeville Food Bank don’t go hungry.