Commentary
The phrase “social equity” gets thrown around a lot today, usually by government and academia. They define it as a framework for distributing resources and correcting systemic disadvantages. They can keep that definition. I am not interested in it.
I know a different kind of social equity—one that isn’t created by policies or programs but by people, through free will, generosity, and faith.
Equity means investment. A house builds equity as you pour into it, and you can draw on that equity when you need it. Communities are no different. When we invest love, labor, and trust in one another, we create social equity that can be drawn on in times of need.
I’ve lived this principle. I’ve lent tractors and trailers to neighbors, opened my home to people in crisis, and during COVID I welcomed a homeless family to live on my farm so their children could attend school remotely. To this day, displaced flood victims still live here free of charge. These are deposits of equity into the community account.
And this week, I experienced the miracle of those deposits flowing back.
We are hosting a major event at my farm called Food is Medicine. Because of staff changes, lower ticket sales, and a tight budget, we were suddenly unprepared and under-resourced. I reached out in faith, and my community responded.
• A couple who once lived on the farm drove from Houston. She got to work on computer tasks while watching her children and running errands. He hung lights and pitched in at the restaurant. Through their relationships, they connected me with a man I had never met, who drove his RV from San Antonio to handle all our IT needs. When I told him I couldn’t pay much, he said, “I only do what I want to do. And I want to support this.”
• Neighbors came to set up beds.
• A man who had quit months ago for a better job returned to spend the week repairing and maintaining. Another friend even requested days off from his new job so he could come back for the weekend.
• My brother and his wife set aside their own lives to work full-time on the event.
• Two dear friends and business partners drove from Utah a week early to help build everything from the ground up.
• Several volunteers from Confluence, another festival we partner in, came to design graphics, set up signage, and help run operations.
• An old employee from our Los Angeles restaurant called out of the blue and asked, “Should I fly in?” Three friends from Mexico also arrived to lend a hand.
• One of my investors drove from Los Angeles, not only to support this weekend but to help with our upcoming pumpkin patch.
• And at the last minute, when our shuttle driver backed out due to another commitment, within hours the community had already found two replacements willing to step in.
Two weeks ago, it looked like we didn’t have enough help. Today, I am surrounded by abundance. This is social equity.
And here’s the difference: What I am talking about is not socialism. It is not redistribution. It is not government mandate. True equity is built on free will. No one was forced to help. No one was ordered to sacrifice. Every act was freely given out of relationship and love.
Government’s version of social equity is top-down. It tries to manufacture fairness through mandates, regulations, and redistribution. But that kind of equity often creates resentment instead of relationship. It turns generosity into obligation. It reduces compassion to compliance. It shifts trust away from people and places it in bureaucracies.
The kind of equity I am describing is bottom-up. It is voluntary, abundant, and rooted in faith. It is not about compliance but communion. Not about authority imposed, but authority chosen—not government, but God.
When we live this way, we enter a different kind of economy. An economy of grace, where generosity begets generosity, where investments in one another compound into blessings that no policy could ever manufacture.
Too often, the phrase social equity is co-opted to serve political ends. But its truest meaning is much simpler and richer: how much we are willing to invest in one another, and how much we can trust that investment to return when it’s needed most.
I stand in awe at the equity that has flowed back to me through the community I’ve spent years building. And I am humbled to be living in the middle of it.
