2020: Here’s To Resistance and Not Going Back to Normal

So far, 2020 has afforded society and chance to toss worn bandages from its wounds and address the source of injury. For our class, it’s been an especially important time to examine the socioecological systems in which our food system is embedded. The coronavirus pandemic is revealing weaknesses from distribution bottlenecks to unjust working conditions. It’s also reminding us that intense animal agriculture such as CAFOs are breeding grounds for future pandemics. The recent murder of George Floyd has set yet another alarm demanding a reckoning with, and dismantling of, institutions built upon a legacy of racism and inequality – our food system not being exempt from these ills. Being a class discussing food using a systems-thinking approach, these breakdowns across Earth and social realms unfolding at warp speed can be understood as the result of generations of exploitation. The universe is begging us to examine our relationship with our food and with each other.

Grappling with these system imbalances, I recall our discussion of Gaia theory, which sees Earth as a self-regulating macro-organism, it’s biotic and abiotic elements functioning and evolving together. Wondering how to feed ourselves on a finite planet, Gaia theory offers solutions in the way of thinking cyclically. As industrial agriculture requires increasing inputs to compensate for soil degradation and other externalities, we can learn from nature’s non-linear models, where output becomes input. Waste from one = food for another.

This “thinking in circles” held presence as our action group partnered with the Center for Food Safety, a non-profit organization resisting the factory farm model by advocating for organic, sustainable, and restorative agriculture. Our goal was to research and develop criteria for a sustainable shellfish scorecard, which will inform consumers about pesticide use and tending/harvest methods. Washington state is the leading national producer of farmed oysters, clams, and mussels, generating around $270 million annually. Bivalves filter phytoplankton, clearing water for photosynthesis, essential for eelgrass, which provides nutrients and predation refuge for fish and crustaceans. When done responsibly, shellfish farming can compliment an ecosystem. Done irresponsibly, it can throw an ecosystem out of balance.

Is this balance? Geoduck farm in Puget Sound. Photo: Sean McDonald, University of Washington

This work gave an up-close look at the potential within our food system for restoring some balance. I gained appreciation for the work CFS does to positively impact human and environmental health by standing up to powerful corporate and government interests, like speaking up for unprotected meatpacking workers, taking on the EPA and Dow Chemical, and helping shut down CAFOs.

It’s all connected. ~Image Source

Food is embodied energy, solar power transformed into calories nourishing bodies, minds, souls. It is deeply personal and political. Food is power. As we call ourselves out on unjust systems of power and call for reform, let us include those systems which feed us and our Earth as one. To heal our wounds will require not more sutures but a bloodletting. We cannot and do not wish to go back to “normal.”

Sovereignty and Shellfish

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Food sovereignty is no simple thing in today’s food politics discourse. The modern American, whether they like it or not, is deeply embedded in a global food network. When we ask ourselves what it would mean to become food sovereign people, we must determine what self-sufficiency can and should mean within our community. As Raj Patel argues in his article “Food Sovereignty Grassroots Voices”, food sovereignty must account for the power politics of the food system. In working alongside the Center for Food Safety, a national nonprofit group that works to protect human and environmental health by advocating for sustainable practices and curbing harmful food technologies, I developed a scoring system to grade the sustainability of Washington’s shellfish operations.

Through this work and Patel’s point on power politics, I built an understanding of the simple fact that food sovereignty must begin with knowing where your food comes from. To know where your food comes from must mean to know more than its location, but to know the methods and labor that went into its creation and the impacts of this production on people and the ecosystem. My contribution to the development of the shellfish scorecard is both a contribution to the transparency of the industry as well as to the normalization of consumer-facing food transparency.

“Shellfish Aquaculture in Washington: Pesticides, Plastics, and Pollution Impacts to Our Environment” Center for Food Safety. October 24, 2019.

Food sovereignty discourse often revolves around food and farmers. While these are significant aspects of developing and defining a food sovereign community, this approach ignores the larger economic and political systems that encase our culture of food. This multidimensional image, which is explored in-depth in part eight of “Introduction: Critical Perspectives on Food Sovereignty”, must include a notion of sustainability and justice that addresses these larger systems. In defining food sovereignty with the consideration the multidimensionality and the inherent need for consumer facing transparency, the creation of and use of the shellfish scorecard begins to take on a larger weight.

As my group approached the scorecard, we carried the lessons of food sovereignty and systems thinking into our research process. We developed a scorecard that grades the sustainability of a shellfish operation on how the operation relates to Washington’s ecological feedback loops and the policy positions of the operation. This scorecard reflects values of food sovereignty and will aid consumers in their ability to support sustainable businesses.