Food is Power
Colonization has violently and fundamentally altered most of our lives. Food has always been a fundamental tool in the process of Colonization. Through food, social and cultural norms are conveyed and violated. The Indigenous people of the Americas encountered a radically different food system with the arrival of the Spanish. The legacy of this system is very present in the food practices of modern Latin American people. Indigenous foods remain as present in contemporary Latin American diets as do European foods. Understanding the history of food and eating practices in different contexts can help us understand that eating is inherently problematic.
Food choices are influenced and constrained by cultural values and are important in constructing and maintaining social identity. In that sense, food has never merely been about the simple act of pleasurable consumption—food is history; it is culturally transmitted, it is identity. Food is power.
What comes to mind when you think of Mangu? The creamy, delicious breakfast staple of the Dominican Republic? Known for its versatility? or the fact that it originated in the Congo region of Africa, where it was common to eat boiled, mashed plantains and that the recipe made its way across the seas to Latin America during the times of slave trading. Do you hear the cries of those who lost their families, homes, and identities?
Do you taste the desperation and need to feel connected to the essence of who we are?
Do you think of food as accessible to us all? Or do you keep in mind the millions of people that go hungry right here in the land of the free? Still segregated by food apartheid. I grew up in a food desert. A small and mighty borough, the Bronx. With all its might, it has been leading for nearly two decades as having the highest food insecurity rate in our country. It's ironic because it's home to the world's largest produce terminal market. Food is power. So close, but so inaccessible. It's like a tease of the unattainable.
I see so many food bloggers creating recipes and looking at food from an angle I can't relate to. I feel it all too deeply. I care too much. I can't appropriate the experiences of others without honoring their stories. Our stories matter; the leverage that food has had over lives and the lives of our ancestor's matter. My plate usually tells a story. A story of resilience. A story of perseverance, the story of activism. What does your plate say?
