Food Day

October 24 was Food Day. Somehow, I missed it. I missed it because I was preoccupied snuggling my sweet little niece and nephew. Since I missed this very important day I am celebrating today. What is Food Day? Food Day happens every year on October 24 and not only encourages people to make healthy changes in their diets but also to take action to solve food-related problems in our communities at the local, state, and national level. This year Food Day was focused around food justice and farm workers.

While I was in undergrad I was busy developing pretentious but naive worldviews that came crashing down the moment I graduated. I was devoted to a variety of social justice movements but I must have slept through the lecture of food issues. I’m not sure how that happened. I grew up in an area where the majority of the population are either farm workers or food service workers. But somewhere I missed the connection between what I ate and the effects it had on others.

It took moving to Guatemala for me to see and understand the importance of food issues. When I moved back to the States the first lifestyle change I made was in my diet and the way I viewed food. The first breakdown I had was in the supermarket when I became utterly overwhelmed by all the stuff. As I looked at the food I thought about all the farm workers who contributed to those products. I thought about their working and living conditions and the never-ending cycle of modern day slavery. I thought about all the energy being used in the overly air-conditioned building with it’s too bright lights. I thought about the underpaid employees of the store. If there was a swooning couch in that store I would have gracefully swooned while dramatically throwing my arm over my eyes. Instead I ran out to the car cried with a snotty, runny nose. Much less graceful but equally dramatic. So I changed the way I viewed and bought food in the United States.

Supermarkets make it easy for us to forget all the work that goes into growing our food. We forget to think about the millions of farmworkers who allow us to eat. Essentially, we forget about the people who nourish and provide us with life. Farm workers are invisible in our society despite the fact that there are about three million farm workers concentrated in California, Texas, Washington, Oregon, Florida, and North Carolina. Farm work is the eighth lowest paid job in the country. Workers make an average income between $10,000 and $12,500 per year even though farm work is one of the most dangerous occupations. Farm workers are also among the most exploited in the U.S., which is not solely due to the fact that more than half of all farm workers are undocumented. Farm workers have to endure wage theft, sexual harassment, intimidation, and in some cases, physical beatings.

I am so grateful for these human beings that provide our nation with fruits and vegetables. Gratitude has always been an important binding factor in my life. It helps me empathize with people. I have to visualize their suffering and feel compassion and humility. Often I feel angry and other times overwhelmingly sad. No matter which emotion is evoked I am filled with a need to act. In different situations those actions vary, but today I want to support the rights of farm workers.

The Coalition of Immokalee Workers (CIW) is a pretty inspiring organization. CIW has a Fair Food Program where participating corporations pay an extra penny per pound for their tomatoes, which doubles the wages of workers who pick the fruit. It also demands a Code of Conduct in the fields, which ensures the human dignity of each worker. The Fair Food Program has six main elements which you should check out here along with other ways you can take action on behalf of those workers that allow the rest of the nation access to food.

There are so many ways we as individual consumers can make small or larger changes that have far-reaching impacts. We can support farm workers that work on large farms and we can support our small local farmers. We can chose foods that are environmentally sustainable. We can cut back on certain foods that are bad for our own health and the health of others. These actions bind us to others and humble us. They unite us as human beings and make us more caring and consciousness individuals.

Embracing Sorrow: Part 2

My friend Leron died. I wrote about my initial reactions in this blog post last week. I wrote about how I needed to embrace the sorrow and suffering I felt.  I wrote about it.  I knew I needed to do it but was unable.

I was in the car with my sister when I heard he died.  I went into shock.  I wanted it to be untrue but I knew it was. I barely shed a few tears.  The next day I flew out to Arizona to help a friend drive across the country.  We talked a little bit about Leron but I felt numb. As soon as we arrived in Maryland there was a beautiful memorial for Leron. I wanted to be there but I was nervous.  You see, I'm usually uncomfortable in large groups. In the past Leron was always the person I looked forward to seeing in those types of situations.  When I saw Leron I felt lighter; he did that to everyone. I went to his memorial and he was not there. I mingled.  I struggled to talk about Leron.  I had not processed his death and I had not processed his life.  The words I had felt shallow and overused.  Leron deserved more than my superficial words. I cried for about 2 minutes on the ride home and wrote my first blog. My words were true but I had yet to really connect and feel those words.

I went through the rest of the week in a haze.  It was a long week.  I was a grump at work.  I went home and sat on the couch.  I barely went to the gym, studied or played with my dog.  I talked to people but I was numb. Every time I had to do something, anything really, I just did not have the energy to care.  It was so strange that I did not care.  I am an introvert and I keep my feelings inside but I feel things deeply.  I knew things were supposed to be happy, funny, sad, etc but I only felt those emotions on the surface.  I wanted to mourn but I was stuck.  And terrified.

Leron's funeral was yesterday. As I walked up to look at his body I saw his profile in the coffin.  It did not look like Leron.  I could not bring myself to look at the body.  I went and sat down and was afraid I would go through the entire funeral without crying. But as soon as the music started I lost it.  I started sobbing.  It was cathartic.  It was needed.  I cried through most of the service.

After the service we went to a local bar and I saw people I had not seen in years.  In high school my sister and I used to have people at our house most weekends.  We decided to have everyone over to our parents house to reminisce. It was joyous and sad and perfect.  We told stories about Leron and my cheeks hurt from smiling so much.  We talked about the kindness of his soul.  Leron had life figured out.  He loved people.  He never judged.  He did not care who you were, what you had done or what you were going to do.  He did not have acquaintances; he only had friends. Not many people have that gift. When we were seniors in high school Leron was interviewed.  He was asked how he thought our graduating class would be remembered and he said he thought we would be remembered as, "a squad of unity."  I never thought about our class that way but that was how Leron saw the world.  There was no difference or barrier that stood in his way when it came to relationships.

One person commented that Leron was the glue that held us all together.  A lot of people do not live in the area any more and said coming home will forever be different.  They talked about how they have mourned Leron.  They were open about the pain they have suffered and helped me mourn. I laughed last night and I cried.  Yesterday I finally embraced the pain and sorrow I was feeling and I hope it will make me a better person.  I made real and true human connections last night. I suffered with people in a way I have never experienced. My heart hurts in a way I have never felt before. I want to live my life more like Leron.  I want to make connections everywhere I go.  I want to accept people as they are.  I also want to cultivate the relationships I have.  I want to tell people that I love them and I want them to believe it.  I want to love more people.

I also want to thank everyone that helped me yesterday.  I'm finally moving forward.  I am becoming more compassionate and humble.  I am really working on the vulnerable thing but it is going to take some time.  Maybe I am little wiser than I was two days ago.  I'm not sure I would have been able to embrace my feelings without you.  Even though Leron is gone I think he will always be the glue because we will never stop loving and learning from him.  Leron, I loved you so much and I will miss you more than I ever realized.

Embracing Sorrow

I am struggling. I am struggling and stumbling to understand the death of a friend who was so young and so full of life. A friend who brought so much joy to the people around him and had a soul full of love and laughter. This friend had an infectious personality and when you were around him you had a smile on your face. Leron was friends with everyone because he invited friendship. He had the gift of making you feel comfortable around him; the gift of putting people at ease.

I don't form friendships easily and there are very few people in my life with whom I am open. Leron was not one of those people with whom I am close but I love him. I will always love his laughter, goofy antics, and joy for life. You see, I felt comfortable and at ease around Leron and I can not say that for many people. Leron was my prom date. He spent countless weekends sleeping on my couch in high school. Leron, for me, was one of those friends that even if I had not spoken with him in months, or years, I felt like I could pick up where we left off. There is not one unkind thing I could say about Leron. I saw him live out his life with kindness and lived in the moment. When you spoke with him he payed attention to the conversation. He lived his life being present. It is not that he was perfect, he was full imperfections because he was human. And now he is gone.

There are so many people suffering Leron's death right now. He is never coming back. I will never again pull on his elbow skin or give him a crushing hug. I will never awkwardly stroke his cheek. I'm sure that sounds strange, and it was. But with Leron there were not many boundaries which is part of what made him so wonderful. All that is left are the memories. Life will move forward without him and that seems impossible to to so many. Leron's close friends were his family and I am sure they can not imagine that their children will never know him. Leron ran in a pack and it is weird for me to think that when I see his best friends I will not see him pop around the corner.

I have experienced loss in my life but Leron's death has been harder on me. Honestly, I am still in shock, one week later. I have only shed a few tears when I know part of me wants to sob myself to sleep. I feel directionless anger, sadness and confusion. Mostly I feel confused. I don't understand why this happened. I don't know how to deal with my grief, with the injustice of his death. I want to find closure but I don't know if I ever will. His death feels irrational to me and I want to make sense of it; I want it to fit into my worldview. I want an explanation. I want an explanation beyond the results of an autopsy. My rational mind wants this explanation but my heart wants one too.

Deep down I know that explaining or blaming his death away will not help me escape the pain I feel. I am a fixer. When I don't like something in my life I simply change it. It has always seemed simple to me. This pain is not something that I can escape, resolve or fix. Deep down I know I must embrace this pain but I am pushing back against it. I am pushing back hard. Every time I feel myself breaking down I try to occupy my mind with something else. But this pain must be suffered. I have to allow it to crash over me and allow myself to feel the sadness, the anger and the confusion.

I believe this sorrow will make me better. It will allow me to share common grief and common sorrow with others who loved him as well. Embracing my feelings will make me vulnerable and humble, two traits I resent. Maybe it will also teach me wisdom. Hopefully it will make me more compassionate to the struggles of others. It will help me move forward. Life is sometimes cold and cruel. It is full of pain and heartbreak. But it is also unfathomably beautiful, and generous, and good. It is also full of love and joy. Leron is the proof of all those things.