Academic literature on the topic 'Urban agriculture Victoria Collingwood'

Reformation of the policies for allocating Australia's water resources has now assumed profound political, economic and social significance. However, there are marked contrasts between urban and agricultural sectors, in the approach to policy reform. Whereas governments have embarked on a range of mandated initiatives to alter or constrain the behaviour of urban dwellers, the approach adopted for irrigated agriculture has been characterised by an emphasis on markets and private property rights. This paper explores the extent of these disparate and potentially incongruous policies by focussing primarily on the states with the largest irrigation sectors, New South Wales and Victoria. Whilst acknowledging the high transaction costs of individual households engaging in a water market, the paper argues for more liberal market participation by urban water authorities on behalf of their constituents. The paper also calls for more rigorous economic assessment of the plethora of water-saving and demand-management strategies being proposed in the urban water setting.

Aquaculture production in Tanzania has increased in recent years, responding to an increased demand for fish, but the scale and productivity of smallholder aquaculture remains below the level needed to support significant sector growth in Tanzania. This study assesses, through geospatial analyses, the suitability for freshwater pond farming of Oreochromis niloticus and Clarias gariepinus in Tanzania, by assessing the geographical distribution of seven criteria (water availability, water temperature, soil texture, terrain slope, availability of farm inputs, potential farm-gate sales, and access to local markets) identified as important for fish pond farming. The criteria were developed and standardized from 15 sub-criteria, which were classified into a four-level suitability scale based on physical scores. The individual weights of the different criteria in the overall GIS suitability assessment were determined through a multi-criteria evaluation. The final results were validated and compared through field observations, interviews with 89 rural and 11 urban aquaculture farmers, and a questionnaire survey with 16 regional fisheries officers. Our results indicate that there is a good potential for aquaculture in Tanzania. Almost 60% of Tanzania is assessed as being suitable and 40% as moderately suitable for small-scale subsistence pond farming, which is the dominating fish farming practice currently. The corresponding figures for medium-scale commercial farming, which many regions expect to be the dominating farming method within ten-years, were 52% and 47% respectively. The availability of water was the most limiting factor for fish pond farming, which was confirmed by both farmers and regional fisheries officers, and assessed as being “suitable” in only 28% of the country. The availability of farm-gate sales and local markets were “moderate suitable” to “suitable” and were seen as a constraint for commercial farms in rural areas. The availability of farm inputs (agriculture waste and manure) was overall good (26% very suitable and 32% suitable), but high-quality fish feed was seen as a constraint to aquaculture development, both by farmers and regional fisheries officers. Soil, terrain, and water temperature conditions were assessed as good, especially at low altitudes and in regions close to the sea and south of Lake Victoria.

Nargi, Lela. The Honeybee Man. Illus. Kyrsten Brooker. New York: Schwartz & Wade, 2011. Print. This charming picture book chronicles the unconventional cottage industry of Fred, a Brooklynite who spends his spare time tending three colonies of honeybees housed on the roof of his townhouse. As the day unfolds, we follow Fred’s bees as they fan out across the borough, bringing back nectar from the herb gardens, flower pots, and even wild blueberry bushes flowering therein. Fred then harvests the honey and distributes jars of it to his neighbours. With this growing popularity of urban agriculture (and urban apiculture), Nargi’s story is a timely one, clearly aimed at progressive young families interested in the connection between local ecology and human community. The book is transparently but not disagreeably didactic: bee behaviour is examined and explained (both within the context of the story and in a two-page appendix), and the processes of beekeeping and honeymaking are illuminated through Fred’s perambulations within his apartment-cum-apiary. Brooker’s illustrations, a combination of gestural painting and collage, have a patchwork, handmade quality well suited to the book’s overarching preoccupation with all things organic and homespun. Her renderings of Brooklyn’s brownstone vistas are simple in their bright, flat planes of colour, but also satisfyingly dense with decoupaged texture and detail. Like the honey made by Fred’s “tireless Brooklyn bees,” her artwork is both a concentration - and a sweetening - of the teeming heterogeneity of urban life.Highly recommended: 4 out of 4 stars Reviewer: Sarah Mead-Willis Sarah is the Rare Book Cataloguer at the University of Alberta's Bruce Peel Special Collections Library. She holds a BA and an MLIS from the University of Alberta and an MA in English Literature from the University of Victoria.

Each year, The Economist magazine’s “Economist Intelligence Unit” ranks cities based on “healthcare, education, stability, culture, environment and infrastructure”, giving the highest-ranking locale the title of most ‘liveable’ (Wright). For the past six years, The Economist has named Melbourne “the world’s most liveable city” (Carmody et al.). A curious portmanteau, the concept of liveability is problematic: what may feel stable and safe to some members of the community may marginalise others due to several factors such as gender, disability, ethnicity or class.The subjective nature of this term is referred to in the Australian Government’s 2013 State of Cities report, in the chapter titled ‘Liveability’:In the same way that the Cronulla riots are the poster story for cultural conflict, the attack on Jillian Meagher in Melbourne’s Brunswick has resonated strongly with Australians in many capital cities. It seemed to be emblematic of their concern about violent crime. Some women in our research reported responding to this fear by arming themselves. (274)Twenty-nine-year-old Jill Meagher’s abduction, rape, and murder in the inner northern suburb of Brunswick in 2012 disturbs the perception of Melbourne’s liveability. As news of the crime disseminated, it revived dormant cultural narratives that reinforce a gendered public/private binary, suggesting women are more vulnerable to attack than men in public spaces and consequently hindering their mobility. I investigate here how texts written by women writers based in Melbourne’s inner north can latently serve as counter narratives to this discourse, demonstrating how urban public space can be benign, even joyful, rather than foreboding for women. Cultural narratives that promote the vulnerability of women oppress urban freedoms; this paper will use these narratives solely as a catalyst to explore literary texts by women that enact contrary narratives that map a city not by vicarious trauma, but instead by the rich complexity of women’s lives in their twenties and thirties.I examine two memoirs set primarily in Melbourne’s inner north: Michele Lee’s Banana Girl (2013) and Lorelai Vashti’s Dress, Memory: A memoir of my twenties in dresses (2014). In these texts, the inner north serves as ‘true north’, a magnetic destination for this stage of life, an opening into an experiential, exciting adult world, rather than a place haunted. Indeed, while Lee and Vashti occupy the same geographical space that Meagher did, these texts do not speak to the crime.The connection is made by me, as I am interested in the affective shift that follows a signal crime such as the Meagher case, and how we can employ literary texts to gauge a psychic landscape, refuting the discourse of fear that is circulated by the media following the event. I wish to look at Melbourne’s inner north as a female literary milieu, a site of boldness despite the public breaking that was Meagher’s murder: a site of female self-determination rather than community trauma.I borrow the terms “boldness”, “bold walk” and “breaking” from Finnish geographer Hille Koskela (and note the thematic resonances in scholarship from a city as far north as Helsinki). Her paper “Bold Walks and Breakings: Women’s spatial confidence versus fear of violence” challenges the idea that “fearfulness is an essentially female quality”, rather advocating for “boldness”, seeking to “emphasise the emancipatory content of … [women’s] stories” (302). Koskela uses the term “breaking” in her research (primarily focussed on experiences of Helsinki women) to describe “situations … that had transformed … attitudes towards their environment”, referring to the “spatial consequences” that were the result of violent crimes, or threats thereof. While Melbourne women obviously did not experience the Meagher case personally, it nevertheless resulted in what Koskela has dubbed elsewhere as “increased feelings of vulnerability” (“Gendered Exclusions” 111).After the Meagher case, media reportage suggested that Melbourne had been irreversibly changed, made vulnerable, and a site of trauma. As a signal crime, the attack and murder was vicariously experienced and mediated. Like many crimes committed against women in public space, Meagher’s death was transformed into a cautionary tale, and this storying was more pronounced due to the way the case played out episodically in the media, particularly online, allowing the public to follow the case as it unfolded. The coverage was visually hyperintensive, and particular attention was paid to Sydney Road, where Meagher had last been seen and where she had met her assailant, Adrian Bayley, who was subsequently convicted of her murder.Articles from media outlets were frequently accompanied by cartographic images that superimposed details of the case onto images of the local area—the mind map and the physical locality both marred by the crime. Yet Koskela writes, “the map of everyday experiences is in sharp contrast to the maps of the media. If a picture of a place is made by one’s own experiences it is more likely to be perceived as a safe ordinary place” (“Bold Walks” 309). How might this picture—this map—be made through genre? I am interested in how memoir might facilitate space for narratives that contest those from the media. Here I prefer the word memoir rather than use the term life-writing due to the former’s etymological adherence to memory. In Vashti and Lee’s texts, memory is closely linked to place and space, and for each of them, Melbourne is a destination, a city that they have come to alone from elsewhere. Lee came to the city after growing up in Canberra, and Vashti from Brisbane. In Dress, Memory, Vashti writes that the move to Melbourne “… makes you feel like a pioneer, one of those dusty and determined characters out of an American history novel trudging west to seek a land of gold and dreams” (83).Deeply engaging with Melbourne, the text eschews the ‘taken for granted’ backdrop idea of the city that scholar Jane Darke observes in fiction. She writes thatmodern women novelists virtually take the city as backdrop for granted as a place where a central female figure can be or becomes self-determining, with like-minded female friends as indispensable support and undependable men in walk-on roles. (97)Instead, Vashti uses memoir to self-consciously examine her relationship with her city, elaborating on the notion of moving from elsewhere as an act of self-determination, building the self through geographical relocation:You’re told you can find treasure – the secret bars hidden down the alleyways, the tiny shops filled with precious curios, the art openings overflowing onto the street. But the true gold that paves Melbourne’s footpaths is the promise that you can be a writer, an artist, a musician, a performer there. People who move there want to be discovered, they want to make a mark. (84)The paths are important here, as Vashti embeds herself on the street, walking through the text, generating an affective cartography as her life is played out in what is depicted as a benign, yet vibrant, urban space. She writes of “walking, following the grid of the city, taking in its grey blocks” (100), engendering a sense of what geographer Yi-Fu Tuan calls ‘topophilia’: “the affective bond between people and place or setting” (4). There is a deep bond between Vashti and Melbourne that is evident in her work that is demonstrated in her discussion of public space. Like her, friends from Brisbane trickle down South, and she lives with them in a series of share houses in the inner North—first Fitzroy, then Carlton, then North Melbourne, where she lives with two female friends and together they “roamed the streets during the day in a pack” (129).Vashti’s boldness not only lies in her willingness to take bodily to the streets, without fear, but also in her fastidious attention to her physical appearance. Her memoir is framed sartorially: chronologically arranged, from age twenty to thirty, each chapter featuring equally detailed reports of the events of that year as well as the corresponding outfits worn. A dress, transformative, is spotlighted in each of these chapters, and the author is photographed in each of these ‘feature’ dresses in a glossy section in the middle of the book. Koskela writes that, “if women dress up to be part of the urban spectacle, like 19th-century flâneurs, and also to mediate their confidence, they oppose their erasure and reclaim urban space”. For Koskela, the appearance of the body in public is an act of boldness:dressing can be seen as a means of reproducing power relations; in Foucaultian terms, it is a way of being one’s own overseer, and regulating even the most intimate spheres … on the other hand, interpreted in another way, dressing up can be seen as a form of resistance against the male gaze, as an opposition to the visual mastery over women, achieved by not being invisible or absent, but by dressing up proudly. (“Bold Walks” 309)Koskela’s affirmation that clothing can enact urban boldness contradicts reportage on the Meagher case that suggested otherwise. Some news outlets focussed on the high heels Meagher was wearing the night she was raped and murdered, as if to imply that she may have been able to elude her fate had she donned flats. The Age quotes witnesses who saw her on Sydney Road the night she was killed; one says she was “a little unsteady on her feet but not too bad”, another that she “seemed to be struggling to walk up the hill in her high heels” (Russell). But Vashti is well aware of the spatial confidence that the right clothing provides. In the chapter “Twenty-three”, she writes of being housebound by heartbreak, that “just leaving the house seemed like an epic undertaking”, so she “picked a dress a dress that would make me feel good … the woman in me emerged when I slid it on. In it, I instantly had shape, form. A purpose” (99). She and her friends don vocational costumes to outplay the competitive inner Melbourne rental market, eventually netting their North Melbourne terrace house by dressing like “young professionals”: “dressed up in smart op-shop blouses and pencil skirts to walk to the real estate office” (129).Michele Lee’s text Banana Girl also delves into the relationship between personal aesthetics and urban space, describing Melbourne as “a town of costumes, after all” (117), but her own style as “indifferently hip to the outside world without being slavish about it” (6). Lee’s world is East Brunswick for much of the book, and she establishes this connection early, introducing herself in the first chapter, as one of the “subversive and ironic people living in the hipster boroughs of the inner North of Melbourne” (6). She describes the women in her local area – “Brunswick Girls”, she dubs them: “no one wears visible make up, or if they do it’s not lathered on in visible layers; the haircuts are feminine without being too stylish, the clothing too; there’s an overall practical appearance” (89).Lee displays more of a knowingness than Vashti regarding the inner North’s reputation as the more progressive and creative side of the Yarra, confirmed by the Sydney Morning Herald:The ‘northside’ comprises North Melbourne, Carlton, Fitzroy, Collingwood, Abbotsford, Thornbury, Brunswick and Coburg. Bell Street is the boundary for northsiders. It stands for artists, warehouse parties, bicycles, underground music, lightless terrace houses, postmodernity and ‘awareness’. (Craig)As evidenced in late scholar John Maclaren’s book Melbourne: City of Words, the area has long enjoyed this reputation: “After the war, these neighbourhoods were colonized by migrants from Europe, and in the 1960s by the artists, musicians, writers, actors, junkies and layabouts whose stories Helen Garner was to tell” (146). As a young playwright, Lee sees herself reflected in this milieu, writing that she’s “an imaginative person, I’m university educated, I vote the way you’d expect me to vote and I’m a member of the CPSU. On principle I remain a union member” (7), toeing that line of “awareness” pithily mentioned by the SMH.Like Vashti, there are constant references to Lee’s exact geographical location in Melbourne. She ‘drops pins’ throughout, cultivating a connection to place that blurs home and the street, fostering a sense of belonging beyond one’s birthplace, belonging to a place chosen rather than raised in. She plants herself in this local geography. Returning to the first chapter, she includes “jogger by the Merri Creek” in her introduction (7), and later jokingly likens a friendship with an ex as “no longer on stage at the Telstra Dome but still on tour” (15), employing Melbourne landmarks as explanatory shorthand. She refers to places by name: one could physically tour inner North and CBD hotspots based on Lee’s text, as it is littered with mentions of bars, restaurants, galleries and theatre venues. She frequents the Alderman in East Brunswick and Troika in the city, as well as a bar that Jill Meagher spent time in on the night she went missing – the Brunswick Green.While offering the text a topographical authenticity, this can sometimes prove distracting: rather than simply stating that she goes to the library, she writes that she visits “the City of Melbourne library” (128), and rather than just going to a pizza parlour, they visit “Bimbo’s” (129) or “Pizza Meine Liebe” (101). Yet when Lee visits family in Canberra, or Laos on an arts grant, business names are forsaken. One could argue that the cultural capital offered by namedropping trendy Melburnian bars, restaurants and nightclubs translates awkwardly on the page, and risks dating the text considerably, but elevates the spatiality of Lee’s work. And these landmarks are important within the text, as Lee’s world is divided spatially. She refers to “Theatre Land” when discussing her work in the arts, and her share house not as ‘home’ but consistently as “Albert Street”. She partitions her life into these zones: zones of emotion, zones of intellect/career, zones of family/heritage – the text offers close insight into Lee’s personal cartography, with her traversing the map “stubbornly on foot, still resisting becoming part of Melbourne’s bike culture” (88).While not always walking alone – often accompanied by an ex-boyfriend she nicknames “Husband” – Lee is independently-minded, stating, “I operate solo, I pay my own way” (34), meeting up with various romantic and sexual interests through the text for daytime trysts in empty office buildings or late nights out in the CBD. She is adventurous, yet reminds that she was not always so. She recalls a time when she was still residing in Canberra and visited a boyfriend who was living in Melbourne and felt intimidated by the “alien city”, standing in stark contrast to the familiarity she demonstrates otherwise.Lee and Vashti’s texts both chronicle women who freely occupy public space, comfortable in their surroundings, not engaging on the page with cultural narratives and media reportage that suggest they would be safer off the streets. Both demonstrate what Koskela calls the “pleasure to be able to take possession of space” (“Bold Walks” 308) – yet it could be argued that the writer’s possession of space is so routine, so unremarkable that it transcends pleasure: it is comfortable. They walk the streets alone and catch public transport alone without incident. They contravene advice such as that given by Victorian Police Homicide Squad chief Mick Hughes’s comments that women shouldn’t be “alone in parks” following the fatal stabbing of teenager Masa Vukotic in a Doncaster park in 2015.Like Meagher’s death, Vukotic’s murder was also mobilised by the media – and one could argue, by authorities – to contain women, to further a narrative that reinforces the public/private gender binary. However, as Koskela reminds, the fact that some women are bold and confident shows that women are not only passively experiencing space but actively take part in producing it. They reclaim space for themselves, not only through single occasions such as ‘take back the night’ marches, but through everyday practices and routinized uses of space. (“Bold Walks” 316)These memoirs act as resistance, actively producing space through representation: to assert the right to the city, one must be bold, and reclaim space that is so often overlaid with stories of violence against women. As Koskela emphasises, this is only done through use of the space, “a way of de-mystifying it. If one does not use the space, … ‘the mental map’ of the place is filled with indirect descriptions, the image of it is constructed through media and the stories heard” (“Bold Walks” 308). Memoir can take back this image through stories told, demonstrating the personal connection to public space. Koskela writes that, “walking on the street can be seen as a political act: women ‘write themselves onto the street’” (“Urban Space in Plural” 263). ReferencesAustralian Government. Department of Infrastructure and Transport. State of Australian Cities 2013. Canberra: Commonwealth of Australia, 2013. 17 Jan. 2017 <http://infrastructure.gov.au/infrastructure/pab/soac/files/2013_00_infra1782_mcu_soac_full_web_fa.pdf>.Carmody, Broede, and Aisha Dow. “Top of the World: Melbourne Crowned World's Most Liveable City, Again.” The Age, 18 Aug. 2016. 17 Jan. 2017 <http://theage.com.au/victoria/top-of-the-world-melbourne-crowned-worlds-most-liveable-city-again-20160817-gqv893.html>.Craig, Natalie. “A City Divided.” Sydney Morning Herald, 5 Feb. 2012. 17 Jan. 2017 <http://www.smh.com.au/entertainment/about-town/a-city-divided-20120202-1quub.html>.Darke, Jane. “The Man-Shaped City.” Changing Places: Women's Lives in the City. Eds. Chris Booth, Jane Darke, and Susan Yeadle. London: Paul Chapman Publishing, 1996. 88-99.Koskela, Hille. “'Bold Walk and Breakings’: Women's Spatial Confidence versus Fear of Violence.” Gender, Place and Culture 4.3 (1997): 301-20.———. “‘Gendered Exclusions’: Women's Fear of Violence and Changing Relations to Space.” Geografiska Annaler, Series B, Human Geography, 81.2 (1999). 111–124.———. “Urban Space in Plural: Elastic, Tamed, Suppressed.” A Companion to Feminist Geography. Eds. Lise Nelson and Joni Seager. Blackwell, 2005. 257-270.Lee, Michele. Banana Girl. Melbourne: Transit Lounge, 2013.MacLaren, John. Melbourne: City of Words. Arcadia, 2013.Russell, Mark. ‘Happy, Witty Jill Was the Glue That Held It All Together.’ The Age, 19 June 2013. 30 Jan. 2017 <http://www.theage.com.au/victoria/happy-witty-jill-was-the-glue-that-held-it-all-together-20130618-2ohox.html>Tuan, Yi-Fu. Topophilia: A Study of Environmental Perception, Attitudes and Values. Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall Inc, 1974.Wright, Patrick, “Melbourne Ranked World’s Most Liveable City for Sixth Consecutive Year by EIU.” ABC News, 18 Aug. 2016. 17 Jan. 2017 <http://www.abc.net.au/news/2016-08-18/melbourne-ranked-worlds-most-liveable-city-for-sixth-year/7761642>.

The world is home to predominantly urbanized populations that continue to grow. In an increasingly urbanized world, cities suffer from various challenges, including urban poverty and food insecurity, which result in unsustainability, health concerns, and crime increase. Many reasons affect urban poverty, including controversial government policies, an imbalance between existing resources and demands, and inefficient urban management and planning. Integrating urban agriculture (UA) into development policies can alleviate urban poverty and food insecurity in cities. Therefore, a line of research seems necessary to gain a better understanding of various ways to boost food production and improve sustainability in cities. To this end, the present study attempts to investigate the role of urban planning and governance in community gardens in Victoria to examine how urban planning and governance can support food production. A qualitative research method with semi-structured interviews and community mapping workshops were used within three groups of governmental, non-governmental, and residential actors in Victoria, Canada. Eighteen participants were interviewed, and eight participants took part in workshops held in the James Bay and Fernwood neighbourhoods. The three proposed research questions in this study were analyzed by thematic analysis using NVivo 10 software. The findings revealed that nine themes should be considered to improve food production in Victoria. The themes include improving UA economic efficiency, increasing awareness, gaining community satisfaction, effective landuse policies, productive partnership, improving the long bureaucratic procedure, offering grants, providing resources and facilities for gardeners, and changes in existing zoning bylaws. In addition, the findings of the workshops show that the City of Victoria plays the most crucial role in UA projects. Study results reveal that the compost education center, residents, and community centres should create an active partnership with the City towards improving community gardens.
Graduate

Food production in urban areas has been conducted worldwide as a subsistence strategy and source of income. Recently, however, it is recognized that urban agriculture has the potential to contribute to the development of sustainable urban environments. This study examines the benefits of urban food production in North American cities, as well as focusing on some of the critical barriers to its widespread expansion and acceptance. It also explores the potential for contamination of produce from the ambient atmosphere in mid-sized urban centres. Through interviewing nine urban farmers and one urban planner, in the city of Victoria, British Columbia, I documented each producer’s knowledge of the benefits and limitations associated with urban food production. Each interviewee impressed upon me the numerous benefits that can be accrued through the practice of urban agriculture, but they also painted a picture of the struggles that urban farmers face. Issues identified included: a real and perceived risk of contamination, problems with land ownership and access, and lack of meaningful support for urban farmers. Although urban agriculture has been accepted in principle by the City of Victoria and other Canadian cities, there are many challenges that must be overcome for urban food production to truly produce a viable, sustained food system. A coordinated, comprehensive government policy for involvement in the urban food system is critical to effectively addressing urban food issues. Investigations of heavy metal levels in lettuce (Lactuca sativa) grown in sampling sites across an urban/rural gradient showed that atmospheric contamination by heavy metals is greatest at urban sites, but also affects residential and rural sites. Sampling site types included: a control area (rural farms and properties outside of Victoria); residential sites (yards in residential neighbourhoods in the City of Victoria); and, industrial/business sites (heavily trafficked and industrialized areas in downtown Victoria). Site types were intended to reflect areas perceived as safe, probably safe, and probably not safe, and were selected based on expert opinion and land use. Results indicate that caution should be exercised in growing leafy greens at downtown sites, and that growing food in most residential neighbourhoods and green spaces is typically no worse than growing greens in rural Victoria. In fact, due to the proximity of urban agriculture to the market, growing food locally eliminates the need for transportation and extra processing; reducing the extra exposure crops otherwise might face during these phases. Urban food production requires the support of communities and governments in order to contribute to both urban food security and urban sustainability. The City of Victoria has started on a path to ensuring that this food system receives the required support, but it requires concerted effort and action. Further research into urban food systems is necessary to ensure that urban food production is able to become a viable, sustained food system.
Graduate

The City of Victoria is experiencing increased food insecurity due to its location on Vancouver Island in British Columbia, and a lack of food production in the city. The practice of urban agriculture presents a potential solution, enhancing food security by localizing resources, while increasing access and participation with local food production. Based on urban agriculture land inventories (UALIs) conducted in Portland, Vancouver and Nanaimo, my research evaluates and develops site selection criteria specific to Victoria for conducting a community garden land inventory focused on identifying land for allotment and commons gardens. I also examine the underlying barriers or supports for allotting land to urban agriculture in Victoria. To generate site selection criteria and explore the barriers and supports, I conducted interviews with urban agriculture experts, including city planners; community garden activists, educators and individuals involved in non-profits, and urban producers engaged in urban food production. The site selection criteria were further assessed as primary criteria for their application in GIS or secondary criteria to be considered during site visits. The final primary site selection criteria were land use and type, water availability (within 6.8 m), proximity to density users (within 400 m), minimum size thresholds of 1189.2 m2 for allotment gardens and 139.4 m2 for commons gardens, and excluding buildings, heritage designations, and protected green space. The analysis of the primary criteria resulted in a map illustrating 248 potential sites for community gardens in Victoria, whereby 213 were only suitable for commons gardens and 35 were suitable for allotment or commons gardens due to the larger size threshold. Four of the resulting sites were ground-truthed using site visits, and had medium to high potential for community gardens. The site visits documented secondary criteria, including proximity to community hub or prominent location, sunlight, ecologically sensitive area, cedar trees, and pollinator habitat or vegetation. Highlights from the interviews included identifying the most influential factors to allotting land to urban agriculture: the perception and awareness of urban agriculture, the community, the politics of City Council and staff support, and the costs or financial supports associated with community gardens. Overall, this research provides a model for the decision making process behind establishing an UALI, and contributes to understanding the challenges to allotting land to agriculture in the urban environment.
Graduate
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This thesis examines the impacts of planning controls on agriculture and rural land use in the Shire of Bass. The systems approach to planning has been used to provide a context for examining the past and emerging policy base, both explicit and implicit, for the introduction and administration of planning controls in the Shire. The impact of land use controls on agriculture and rural land use were examined in physical, economic and social terms using a range of information including Council records, Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS) census data and the results of a survey of farmers and small lot owners which was undertaken as part of this research.