Systemic Thinking with Slow Food Washington

This quarter I had the pleasure of collaborating with five other students while working for the nonprofit organization Slow Food Washington. Slow Food Washington is this state’s chapter of the international organization Slow Food, a group dedicated to creating “Good, Clean, and Fair Food for All.” We were given a lot of autonomy on how we wanted to focus our project and ended up centering it around supporting the passage of Washington House Bill 2777/Senate Bill 6463. If passed, this legislation would allow permits for “Micro Enterprise Home Kitchens” where cooks can legally sell food out of their homes. We created a revisable digital media toolkit on how to best engage the Slow Food community in support of the bill.

First page of our digital media toolkit

My overall takeaway from this course is the importance of thinking systemically. We started the quarter off critiquing the individualistic solutions offered in Michael Pollen’s piece and learning about the pitfalls of reductionism. Systemic thinking is critical to unpacking historical legacies and understanding complex connections. Starting off with this literature set the tone for what followed. We were challenged to not just reform but reimagine what these systems could look like. A notable example is Monica White’s Freedom Farmers piece. This intersects food sovereignty with America’s racial history while advocating for community-led organizations that can bolster economic autonomy. These propositions are centered around creating new systems that transcend old, inherently inequitable ones. HB2777/SB6463 incorporates similar thinking. Rather than tackle the large and complex roadblocks to starting a food business (like income inequality, racial inequities, and gentrification), this bill focuses on creating economic opportunities for lower-income individuals through a new alternative. Legalizing home cooking in Washington will provide an abundance of opportunities for diverse ethnic or cultural dining throughout our state; I’m so thrilled I had the chance to contribute in a  small way.

Advocacy day in support of SB6434/HB 2777 at the state capitol (January 16th)

Systemic thinking is of course relevant to our current dialogue around policing — defunding the police (and reallocating funds to appropriate community organizations) creates new systems rather than perpetuating an institution built on racism. Falling back on old ways of thinking is easy but damaging. Challenging ourselves to build a society that offers direct solutions to social ills rather than punishing people for our systems’ shortcomings is difficult but imperative. I’m optimistic that we are at a turning point. I take with me the systemic thinking necessary to dismantling injustice.

 

A copy of our digital toolkit: SECONDDRAFTSLOWFOODDIGITALTOOLKIT

In Response to “A Plague Overlooked: The locust crisis lurking in the shadow of COVID-19”

In response to this blog post.

I chose to respond to Cameron’s blog post because it uncovers a serious crisis currently in the shadow of COVID-19 news. Their post describes the large swarms of locusts overtaking farmland throughout the Horn of Africa. As of May 13th the locusts continue to spread rapidly; officials warn they may migrate east as far as the Indo-Pakistan border and even to West Africa.   

Map showing possible Desert Locust Spread, fao.org

How international organizations are addressing this crisis closely relates our study of the global food economy. Developing countries (like those on the Horn of Africa) face comparatively more severe repercussions from an agricultural crisis like this than in developed countries. Agriculture comprises a much higher portion of their GDP and they lack sufficient resources to respond to such a disaster. The locust swarms are also infesting extremely food insecure nations like South Sudan. Then why has funding been slow and insufficient? Historically (and still today) international trade institutions are manipulated so that the world food system works in favor of developed nations. As discussed by Clapp,  developed countries dump their subsidized food in global markets while developing countries struggle to compete with the cheap costs. There seems to be little international movement towards helping the region during this crisis. Developing countries continue to lack influence in intergovernmental organizations like the U.N yet are facing increasingly devastating environmental crises like this one.

Locusts swarm through East Africa

This issue therefore clearly connects to the idea of “triple inequality” discussed in class. As Cameron mentions, climate change has been linked to the locust swarms. The affected countries have had little historical influence on global warming, yet pay the brunt of the climate costs while having little capacity to adapt and respond to this disaster. The “triple inequality” theory, in combination with the structuring of international organizations and the world food system overall, elucidates how the system is stacked against these developing countries. Sufficient funding should be provided in response to this crisis, but we must also think of larger reforms that reshape these global systems by putting power into the hands of climate change threatened countries. How can we reform these systems so that they are fair, just, and work for all, not just the most powerful?

Hunger and the Hungry

Right now millions of Muslims across the globe are fasting for the holy month of Ramadan. Fasting is a time of “spiritual discipline—of deep contemplation of one’s relationship with God, extra prayer, increased charity and generosity, and intense study of the Quran.” Fasting encourages compassion for those without food by reminding you what it’s like to suffer from hunger.

Muslims wait to break their fast on the 21st day of the holy month of Ramadan at Jama Masjid on June 6, 2018, in New Delhi, India.

Breaking fast in Jama Masjid, New Delhi (2018)

Therefore fasting—practiced across many religions and cultures—is a way in which we recognize our common human fragility. From participating in the “Feeling Hunger” contemplative practice I was reminded of how we are all at the mercy of our own bodies. For that day I was forced to confront the discomfort of scarcity. As I focused on the uncomfortable yet grounding ache at my core I realized my dependency on all the interconnected systems I subconsciously rely on—the grocery stores, the truck drivers, the farmers, and the money in my pocket that gives me the power to satiate that hunger. Underneath the inequalities we are all ruled by that most basic instinct of self-preservation.  Reconciliation with that feeling, then, should underpin our decision making in the realm of world food system’s political ecology.

Heartbreaking' scene in Iowa as mountains of potatoes are laid to ...

A mountain of dumped potatoes in Picabo, Idaho

During the contemplative practice I found my mind wandering to the events of these past few months. It’s hard to ignore the mounting concern about COVID-19’s impact on food systems. The pandemic could cause a colossal spike in hunger—hunger not out of spiritual or religious practice but out of a failure to connect the surplus potatoes being dumped and families struggling to put food on the table. On a global scale, developing countries are expected to be hit hard with widespread food shortages, creating a “crisis within a crisis” of coronavirus outbreaks compounded by hunger.

Hunger is not an issue of the past but an issue of today. Some people are stuffed while others are starved. Food waste, population growth, price fluctuations, distribution networks, natural disasters, and power disparities combine to perpetuate hunger. Remembering the pain of hunger highlights the injustice of a world food system that still leaves millions hungry. We all know the feeling of hunger, but only some of us are the 820 million suffering from undernourishment—the hungry.

Farmworkers’ Lives at Stake Amidst COVID-19 Outbreak

While many of us isolate in the safety of our own homes, ‘essential’ workers face exposure on the front lines. In this article Florida’s Coalition of Immokalee Workers stresses the grave implications for agricultural workers amidst the coronavirus pandemic. 

Immokalee tomato farm

Immokalee is a prominent agricultural hub in southwest Florida. Known as the “tomato capital” of America, thousands of workers are busy picking tomatoes brought to your shelf as harvest season is underway. The circumstances of many workers makes infection extremely likely— almost half of Immokalee’s residents live in poverty, with farm workers often living in cramped trailers and busing to the fields each day. The opportunities for infection are clear and expected, but still little has been done to provide protection. The coalition has urged the governor to provide Immokalee farm workers with gloves and face masks, economic assistance for sick workers, and free virus testing. Their request for a field hospital was determined unnecessary despite the nearest facility being forty minutes away, with many residents not owning cars.

Coalition of Immokalee Workers demonstration (2013)

What’s happening in Immokalee is representative of the hardship facing farming communities across the United States. In order to maintain vital food production while ensuring the safety of farmworkers, reasonable health protection measures—like those the coalition requested— should be implemented by state governments and agricultural companies. 

The COVID-19 pandemic is revealing gaps in our systems, gaps that put people at risk of falling through the cracks. If actions aren’t taken to protect farmworkers, agricultural production will suffer as coronavirus ravages these communities. In response we must assuage the American tendency towards individualism and fight to protect the most vulnerable among us. As the title of the piece suggests, how can we call these workers ‘essential’ if we fail to treat their lives as valuable?