Uprooting patterns of belief
On food, identity, and place.
Here is a song to set the vibe:
The tapestry of food—which weaves together aspects of culture, health, and ecology—has been a source of joy and grief in my forty years on this planet. The sense of delight comes from knowing that my ancestors had deep connections with the land (if you’re new here, my people were sharecroppers, gardeners, and farmers in the South and the Midwest). When I am in my garden I swell with joy and gratitude, remembering that, in many ways, I was born to do this work.
Of course, there is something to be said about the influence of soil on human health. Depending on where you live, and if the ecosystem around you is healthy, often determines whether that influence will be beneficial, or detrimental. If you’re like me and live close to industrial farms, you understand how odor pollution can have a direct impact on health.
My love for food is matched by heartache. I can’t deny how much attention it commands, nor can I deny the tension that it has generated throughout my life. I think this is a common ground. A 2022 study found that over 80% of women are responsible for meal planning and prepping. The authors write, “Preparing healthy, diversified and tasteful meals for a balanced diet over a longer period requires time, patience, perseverance, creativity, dedication and cooking skills.”
Food demands my attention partially because I am often the sole cook in my household. It can be challenging to keep up with the labor involved, especially when I am feeling uninspired, or just too tired to cook. Alongside my personal history with food—painful memories that include being bullied for my size, being forced to drink Slim Fast and self-administering diet pills—I can easily feel overwhelmed and anxious on matters relating to eating.
(Note: I may write about this in more depth in a future letter. It is a tender topic for many, and, if I do, I want to get it right.)
I am also keenly aware that my ancestors were removed from their homelands for their agricultural understanding (in Africa and the U.S.) through colonization. One might surmise that this experience would naturally lead to a focus on food, and eating. And while to some degree I have devoted time to studying issues related to food, capitalism, and climate change, I haven't felt equipped (or ready) to write about these topics.
I’ve shied away from writing about food because it seems like everyone is writing about it. Food writers and critics, recipe developers, journalists, and essayists all have something significant to say about the subject. I’ve also been holding on to the belief that the gastronomy surrounding my upbringing was not interesting or exciting. In the small city where I was raised (and currently live), access to diverse culinary experiences was limited. I come from the land of meat and potatoes, the Rust Belt, where industrial agriculture still reigns.
I often wonder if my relationship with food would be different if I had grown up elsewhere. Would I be able to write more freely about food as an embodied practice if I were not shamed for enjoying it as a young child?
Food affects us all, from growing and harvesting to coalition building and policy change. This feels apropos to Pluto—the celestial body of the underworld—moving into Aquarius. This is a theme we’ll be living with through the next couple of decades. Pluto’s ingress into the stabilizing sign of the Water Bearer will bring awareness to the collective, to how we use or abuse technology, to our relationship with decay, and transformation.
These are the questions and relationships that I will explore this year. I don’t expect to find concrete answers, but I do anticipate more complexity and resonance to unfold. To write about food, I have to take a journey into and through the understory. My thinking will shift, uprooting long-held beliefs about my identity in connection to food and eating, and what it means to be resourced.
A question that I am sitting with this week: What aspects of my personal life need aerating or innovation?
Thank you for being here.
With gratitude,
Christian