Community Fridge Project Sees Fast Growth, Thanks to Local Support
A grassroots fridge movement keeps on growing as community members — and a local celebrity — show their support.
Funky Town Fridge started with a donation, a few tubes of bright-colored paint, and a woman with a mission. Kendra Richardson watched “community solidarity fridges” open in large cities like New Orleans and Houston throughout 2020, and when a friend gave her their old fridge, she bought some paint and got to work.
“The first and only thing I paid for in the beginning was paint,” says Richardson, founder of Funky Town Fridge. “It takes nothing; it’s very cost-efficient. The goal is to reduce waste of every kind.”
The community-driven fridge (and pantry) is open to anyone who needs food, whenever they need it. Thanks to food donation guidelines that say “yes” to things like rice and dried fruit and “no” to soda and highly processed food, it is only stocked with nutritious goods and essential toiletries.
In between teaching ninth-grade world geography and running her natural hair product line, Cocoa Butter Queen, Richardson works with a small, unpaid team to run the fridges. Three Funky Town Fridges have opened in Fort Worth’s Southside, Poly, and Como neighborhoods since September 2020.
They use their social media accounts (Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter) to update 9,000-plus followers on how the three “fridge babies” are doing. Do they need to be stocked? Something that needs repair? The community never fails to respond.
“They really came behind me and these fridges,” says Richardson. “I’m really grateful.”
Although she had to put a fridge “out there” before people started truly caring about her vision, once she did, Richardson says there was no turning back. All it took was a first step, a little word-of-mouth, and a handful of posts on Instagram searching for host locations and local artists willing to paint the donated fridges. Now Richardson’s phone is “constantly blowing up” with messages about the project.
Though several challenges have come her way — including an old Fort Worth law that’s caused an unresolved legal debate with her team and the city — Richardson isn’t fazed.
“You can’t stop purpose,” she says with a shrug. “I think that Funky Town Fridge is my purpose. Living out your purpose [means] living out the legacy that was given to you, and this is my legacy.”
Richardson remembers how her mother always made sure visitors ate their fill when they came to her house. She says she was “raised to treat people like family at all times and raised to feed people,” which she’s undoubtedly doing through Funky Town Fridge.
Right now, Richardson is looking for locations that are willing to host fridges. These could be local businesses, churches, restaurants, even barbershops. At the time this article was written, she had five fridges in her garage that needed homes.
“This work is constant,” says Richardson. “It’s 24/7 and it’s not easy, but it is rewarding. If people come searching for rewards — physical, spiritual, and emotional — they’ll get [them].”
One of the biggest rewards Richardson says she received since starting this journey was meeting her favorite musician, Kirk Franklin. Richardson spent the day showing him and his wife around Funky Town Fridge locations.
“He filled up every fridge,” Richardson says, “and he got to see people take [the food]. He got to see firsthand how important this is and how much this kind of access is needed in these neighborhoods.”
Even if people don’t get to see how their food donations help others, they can rest assured that they’re doing something meaningful when they give — someone is benefiting from their act of kindness.
“If you can find some good to give, why not give it? That’s what I did, broke and all,” says Richardson. “Everybody has a place in the revolution, so find your place.”
