For a taste of our #Unlearning emails and to unlearn Thanksgiving, a food-filled holiday that hides the racist and colonial history of US food culture and our food system behind a false origin story of Native-settler mutual cooperation and gratitude, check out this video featuring 6 Native American girls:
If you're peeved that the US is still celebrating Thanksgiving, the most food-centric holiday in dominant US culture, here's what you can do:
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My CoFED Racial Justice Fellowship has been an incredible learning experience. Considering the sheer ridiculousness of the current state of the US and the World, I could not think of a more important time to be centering this work. To center food justice in our work is to center all justice; environmental, racial, sociocultural, economic; whoever we are and whatever we do, we all need to eat, and all need to eat well.
This summer marked the beginning of a two-fold journey; on a personal and political level, I learned the importance (and the difficulty) of putting your money where your mouth is. For all my love of urban foraging and horizontal, non-hierarchal learning, in the past 23 years I had never once truly attempted to teach myself the skills I was hoping to gain over the course of these 10 weeks. I had read the books and the articles, had the proper role models, and knew all the right words to say, but too much of my personal shit got in the way of putting theory into practice. From mental health crises and emotional abuse to a jam-packed academic schedule, to helping my friends through their shit and refusing to healthily prioritize myself, I never felt I had the time. My life has been a series of reactions, of following through on plans others have made for me and doing my best to roll with the punches and refusing to take a stand for myself, up until graduation day of 2016. Having followed through on the preconceived plan of “poor brown kid makes it to private top tier college and graduates in 4 years”, I really had no clue what to do with myself. I had “made it”; albeit as a Theatre major, but still. I had made it. There was no plan for after.
My name is Dorian, and I've been working as an activist and ally of the food justice movement since I first started working at the Maryland Food Collective, which is a modest sandwich shop and coffee spot on a university campus. When I first began my work there, I didn't understand the politics around the food that we purchase, cook, and consume. I came to my local food co-op because, like many college students (both undergrad and post-grad), I was in search of a way to earn resources that I could use to sustain myself, and because I needed to be fed.
When I was growing up, my passion for cooking (and for food itself) was almost as large as my hunger for new stories to process and tell. I spent my free time spinning stories in crudely made booklets of printer paper and staples, trying to create space for histories sprouted in my mind’s eye. I created physical subjects from cloth and thread, formed stories of revival and revolution for spaces I hadn’t entered into yet yet, and imagined worlds outside my reach. As I entered organizing spaces in my late teens and early twenties, I clutched my rolling imagination for better ways of working together and coexisting as tightly as I held my own lived experiences as a person of color.
Let's be clear. An attack on DACAmented youth is a cruel attack on all immigrant families. Having arrived in the US as a child, even with the privilege of "having papers," I know that being a young immigrant often means being your family's interpreter, their lifeline to mainstream society, the person who has to negotiate everything from basic cable to basic human rights.
Last Tuesday, when the Trump administration announced the end of DACA (Deferred Action on Childhood Arrivals), a program that protected 800,000 immigrant youth from deportation and allowed them to work in the US, the administration also challenged Congress "to address immigration reform in a way that puts hardworking citizens of our country first." The truth, however, is that the US immigration system is racist and has always put (white and wealthy) citizens first. From the first immigration law passed by Congress (the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882) to today's Dream Act (which has not been passed yet), the overwhelmingly white political and economic elite have attempted to draw divide-and-conquer lines to maintain a racialized class hierarchy.
As an organization that seeks to build new culture and a new economy by supporting young people to develop food co-ops, we stand strong for immigrant justice. We reject the racialized divide-and-conquer narratives that pit citizens against immigrants, "legal" immigrants against "illegal" immigrants, and childhood arrivals "who committed no crime” against their parents who made "poor choices". Now more than ever, we must cooperate for our collective liberation.
In a capitalist system that seeks to reduce immigrant families to paper -- the ones we own and the ones we make -- co-ops are surprisingly one of the few ways that undocumented immigrants can earn a dignified living. Yet, our racist immigration system forces DACAmented students seeking to learn about food co-ops to choose between risking their safety to travel and attend CoFED's Summer Co-op Academy and staying home. With DACA protections phasing out and immigration reform unlikely to deliver justice for all 11 million undocumented immigrants under this current administration, the co-op movement -- our best chance at self-determination and economic democracy -- is set up to fail. Immigrants, many undocumented, literally build and feed America. We simply cannot build a new economy when the people who built and continue to build this country -- immigrants, Black folx, indigenous peoples, people of color, and poor people -- are living under a police state that criminalizes us for daring to be a part of US society and contributing to our country's successes.
So when immigrants are under attack, what do we do?
Stand up! Fight back! Call Congress to pass permanent protection for all immigrants.
To win economic justice, we have to build movements that are multiracial, multiclass, multicultural, and unflinchingly committed to destroying white supremacy. Co-ops are a critical part of this work. To build sustainable food co-ops that allow communities to survive, thrive, and push back against the corporate colonization of our food system, co-op teams -- especially white people -- have to practice anti-racism in our personal and professional lives.
It’s not easy. As white people, we are conditioned to not even notice white supremacy, even though it’s omnipresent and foundational to the U.S., our entire political system, and economy. We benefit from it, too, every single day. That’s why a commitment to unlearning racism, especially anti-black racism, and white supremacy is both daily and lifelong.
So, we’ve compiled a few resources from white anti-racist organizations and activists to get you started on your path to showing up for racial justice. The anti-racist organizations listed emphasize the importance of white people listening to, following the lead of, and being accountable to people of color in the fight for racial justice.
Showing Up For Racial Justice (SURJ)
SURJ is a national network of groups and individuals organizing White people for racial justice. Through community organizing, mobilizing, and education, SURJ moves White people to act as part of a multiracial majority for justice with passion and accountability. They work to connect people across the country while supporting and collaborating with local and national racial justice organizing efforts. SURJ provides a space to build relationships, skills and political analysis to act for change.
SURJ has chapters all over the U.S. Check them out here.
Catalyst Project is a center for political education and movement building based in the San Francisco Bay Area. They are committed to anti-racist work in majority white sections of left social movements with the goal of deepening anti-racist commitment in white communities and building multiracial left movements for liberation. They are committed to creating spaces for activists and organizers to collectively develop relevant theory, vision, and strategy to build our movements. Catalyst programs prioritize leadership development, supporting grassroots fighting organizations and multiracial alliance building.
Check out Catalyst’s latest video about their work here.
In the aftermath of Charlottesville and the death of Heather Heyer, ‘white supremacy’ and ‘anti-racist’ showed up in media coverage probably more frequently and consistently than ever before, magnifying a white anti-racist taking direct action to challenge white nationalists and the alt-right. This is a major opportunity to bring white folks into anti-racist practice -- the above list is just a place to get started. It’d be great for you to start some of these readings in a group or with friends and family. But, as Heather’s cousin Diana Ratcliff asked in an op-ed in USA Today, "Why is it that the death of a white woman at the hands of a white supremacist group has finally gotten the attention of white folk?" The answer is that a white supremacist culture reinforces white supremacy in more insidious ways than direct, public displays of racial violence, like the alt-right marching through campus. It’s when white liberals are consistently silent on state-sanctioned violence against and murder of Black people and people of color, but feel compelled to churn out a press statement condemning the actions of white nationalists in Charlottesville when a white woman dies. It’s when Democrats champion diversity commitments from businesses, but support austerity policies and allow corporations to gut regulations and safety standards so that when economic and environmental disaster hits, poor and working class communities of color are hit first and worst.
To challenge white supremacy in all its forms, white people need to take action in solidarity with communities of color. Hopefully, Heather Heyer’s actions -- counter-protesting with a multiracial crew of folks -- galvanize more of us to drop the ‘colorblind-ness,’ neutrality, or passive claims of ‘not being racist’ and instead pick up our responsibility of being actively anti-racist and destroying white supremacy. A death should never be what it takes to push people into reflection and action. But white supremacy will continue to claim more lives, overwhelmingly from Black folks and people of color, until our multiracial, multiclass, multicultural movement for economic, racial, and social justice wins.
The news headlines are constantly changing -- White Supremacists Rally in Charlottesville, homeowners of color lack financial resources to rebuild after Hurricane Harvey, Trump administration ends Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) -- but the larger story we are living traces the same threads of racism and exploitation.
My personal journey brought me to cooperatives because I dreamed of a more democratic and equitable world, where communities can hold power and wealth through their ownership of the structures that they live in: food, educational, political systems and more. However, this journey has also taught me that I and other white people must own up to the ways we have benefited from the historic and current ownership structures that are neither democratic nor equitable, and only further the concentration of power and wealth among the white upper class. As a white person with many generations of family living in the south, I know that I am a direct descendant of people who owned enslaved Black people. Now is not the time for white people--especially those of us within the solidarity economy movement--to distance ourselves from the roots or the current manifestations of racial and economic disparities that we live within, but to face them boldly. Yes, in this moment white people may want to distance ourselves from the reality of white supremacy because we feel guilt and shame, or perhaps it is painful to break rank and we fear being ostracized, or we even may resist change and be in denial of the reality. We might look for quick fixes, or strive to have the 'best' analysis without taking any action, or claim that the problem exists somewhere else. But if you too dream of a more democratic and equitable world, we must own up to the reality and our relation to it.
We are reaching out to the CoFED community for your support in recruiting a Programs Director. Do you love what CoFED does and want to see us level up? Want to help us grow our work and organizational capacity? We need you! Please join in the effort to share this announcement with family, friends, and colleagues who would be interested and qualified for the position - or consider applying yourself!
CoFED has a deep belief in the power of young people to build a multiracial, multiclass, multicultural movement committed to creating alternatives to a racist and extractive food system that does not serve us as people or the planet. By building food co-ops, our communities can nourish, heal, and provide jobs and livelihoods for ourselves. In the process, which we believe must be led by all of us together, we evolve towards collective liberation. If you’ve been following our work this past year, you’ll know that we’ve been working on exciting projects and accomplished much:
Launched our inaugural Racial Justice Fellowship
Organized our biggest, most diverse Summer Co-op Academy to date
Published our #UnlearningWithCoFED monthly email series, where we’ve been questioning and learning together how co-ops fit into the larger visions of food, racial, economic, gender and climate justice.
And right around the corner, look out for the release of the Co-op Cultivator Course
Help us power this growth and find the best person to join the CoFED team! Please share this job description with your community! The deadline to apply is September 25th.
See full job description below.
The circle is a universal symbol. It can signify unity, wholeness, infinity, integrity, timelessness, earthly cycles, protection and inclusion, among other divine meanings.
At this year’s Summer Co-op Academy, which brought together 20 young people from various walks of life, the circle was how we began and how we ended, where we told our stories, where we had hard conversations and challenged each other, and where we affirmed our commitment to growing ourselves and our co-ops.
Organized in a circle, we set our Collective Altar...
Everyone offered something of personal, cultural or spiritual significance to the altar, which stayed there for the entire week.
Shared our stories...
Dorian (CoFED Racial Justice Fellow) leads us through a story quilting workshop. Everyone creates a patch that tells a story about their community and journey. As we go around the circle and share our stories, Dorian collects each patch to make a quilt next to our Collective Altar.
Built power for our co-ops...
"P-O-W-E-R, we got the power because we do it like this!" Briana (Maryland Food Collective) shows us that she’s got the power after we learned how to do the Power Circle from Irving (Ignite NC).
Created unity across our various identities and struggles...
From left to right: Enlylh (Spelman College), Malikia (Howard University alum), Hnin (CoFED Co-Director), and Eva (Spelman College). With our collective timeline of resistance in the background, Hnin and Gio (Earthfoods Cafe, not pictured) show the group how to do the Unity Clap, which Filipino and Mexican farmworkers of United Farm Workers used to organize across language barriers. Before the final clap, you say “Isang Bagsak!”, which means “together we rise, together we fall.”
And celebrated the entire process!
On the last day, we formed a large circle under a tree and next to the French Broad River, the third oldest river in the world. We have our Water Ceremony, Graduation and Appreciation Circle. Later that evening, we have an Open Mic to close out the Academy!
Throughout our week together, which participants described as...
"Complex, vulnerable, powerful and well worth it."
"Incredible. Unforgettable. Transformative. Powerful."
"Good! Really learned more about coops and feel pretty empowered."
"Amazing! I loved the setting and the majority of the folks involved are great contacts to have. I feel like we built family."
By Dominique, CoFED Racial Justice Fellow
I’d never actually experienced the sting of tear gas before, but I thought I had prepped myself for it pretty well. I rolled into Charlottesville feeling ready. But when I jogged up to Emancipation Park, formerly known as Lee Park, and the tear gas came flying, I was proven terribly wrong. The first tickle in the back of your throat before your throat starts to close up in protest, the slow burn that seeps into your pupils, the involuntary clenching that only stands to make it worse—little can prepare you for that. I ran through a cloud of yellow gas, trying my best to help everyone I could, coughing my lungs out and burning like hell, herding as many folks away as possible. I was surprised by how hard that gas hit me.
I wasn’t surprised by the cops who threw it in the first place.
Or by the Nazis beating a black woman in front of the cop who threw the tear gas. Many things about being in Charlottesville surprised me, but the racism? The violence? The sheer, unadulterated savagery required to descend, six-on-one, upon a person in the middle of a parking lot?
That didn’t surprise me at all.
America is literally built on the back of prejudice; racism, sexism, xenophobia, colonialism; these are the values that catapulted the US to success in the first place. From the laws we pass to the food we eat to the land we stand on, there is no United States of America without someone to subjugate. So I wonder why we are surprised when reminded of that fact. I also wonder how any organization with the word “Cooperation” in their paradigm can rest easy knowing half of their collaborators are constantly in fear for their lives. I wonder how many customers your student-run food co-op is going to get when the crowd of Party City torch-wielding Nazis strolls through your campus? How much diversity can you expect in your membership when the racist mansplainer becomes a worker-owner? How much respect should I give a cooperative organization that will not cooperate with my liberation?
Make no mistake; we are being targeted. Black, Brown, Jewish, Muslim, Indigenous, Queer, Femme, Different, Other: we are all targets for a state that looks for conformity to the status quo. Cooperatives are an alternative to the system, a way to recognize the autonomy, humanity, and capability of everyone and to give us back control over the ways we live and thrive. For too long that control has been held in the hands of the few -- the white, the wealthy, the able-bodied, the cis, the Christian, the man. These dominant voices have drowned out the needs of the rest of us. Cooperatives seek to balance that scale; to give back the power, the wealth, the access to those of us who have not had it. So that we can all have power. So we can all have wealth, and abundance, and access.
At 2:10 pm this past Saturday, I was behind the wheel of my black Honda Civic in Houston, about to drive my partner to work. Like we do on most of our weekends, I was offline and not checking social media and he was going into the lab. We were still parked in our garage when one of CoFED's board members texted asking for CoFED to issue a statement about Charlottesville. Alarmed, I immediately checked the news and then called a CoFED Racial Justice Fellow who I knew was there, protesting the white supremacists and fascists. They were "safe," but what does that really mean in a country hell-bent on wiping us out -- Black folx, people of color, immigrants, women, poor folx, people with disabilities, LGBTQIA individuals, Muslims, and Jewish people?
As I drove that afternoon, gripping the steering wheel tighter than usual to gain control of the adrenaline and anger coursing through my body, I couldn't imagine the amount of hate that would drive a young white man, 20 years old, to crash his car into a crowd of people nonviolently protesting white nationalism, killing one person and injuring nineteen others. I still can't.
That someone so young, a millennial who belongs to a generation that is supposedly more open to diversity, would be driven to terrorism and murder at a college campus, where racial diversity is often a selling point to prospective students, doesn't seem like a story that's possible in 2017. But increasingly the faces of white nationalism are young and millennial. Earlier this year, Richard W. Collins III, a young Black person just 23 years old, was stabbed to death at the University of Maryland College Park campus by a 22 year old white man who belonged to a Facebook group called “Alt-Reich: Nation.” We learned about this tragedy from a CoFED Fellow and worker-owner at the Maryland Food Collective, a student-run food co-op, which organized their community in the aftermath of yet another hate crime in our country's history. Just a few weeks later, worker-owners at the Flaming Eggplant, a student-run food co-op at Evergreen State College in Olympia, WA, were organizing their community after yet another white man, 53 years old, made threats to "execute as many people on the campus as [he] can get ahold of" after a series of student protests against racism. So when white supremacy claimed the life of Heather Heyer this weekend at the University of Virginia, I felt the pain of a very, very old festering wound that this country refuses to acknowledge.
You know this wound. It birthed this nation, covered in the blood spilled by slavery, genocide, capitalism, white supremacy, colonization, toxic masculinity, and other forms of hate and exploitation. It has too many names, too many of which belong to trans women of color and people with mental illness -- among them are Charleena Lyles, Chay Reed, Philando Castile, Mike Brown, Eric Garner, Sandra Bland, Alphonza Watson, Jojo Striker, Nabra Hassanen, Danny Chen, Tamir Rice, Trayvon Martin, Deborah Danner, Desmond Phillips, Richard W. Collins III, and now Heather Heyer too (rest in power). Millions more are trapped in prison and victims of institutional white supremacy. So how do we heal? What do we do?
We are all a part of CoFED because we are united in the belief that building food co-ops, like the Maryland Food Collective and the Flaming Eggplant, is part of the answer. Having the autonomy to take care of ourselves and our communities outside of capitalist and white supremacist institutions mean our communities can build resilience in a culture that doesn't care about our survival. We are also united in our clarity that history will not measure our impact solely by the number of food co-ops we help develop. What matters more are the choices we make every day to bend the moral arc of history to "form a more perfect Union [and] establish Justice" for everyone. As an American who was born in another country, where just three decades ago thousands of students led a nonviolent national movement for democracy against a dictatorship -- and died for it -- I am absolutely clear in the power of young people, and students in particular, to heal and transform the injustices of today and history into a future where everyone can live in safety, with dignity, and thrive as ourselves and as we wish. But we are going to have to fight for it -- in the streets and every day and everywhere we live, work, and play.
For CoFED, this means that we will continue naming white supremacy, racism, and capitalism as what we're fighting and destroying by strengthening food co-ops and food sovereignty -- even though we have lost some financial support for doing so. Because white supremacy is insidious, destroying it requires naming it in all its forms, from rallies of white supremacists with torches to liberal and conservative spaces, friends, family, allies, and in policies, laws, and institutions. We will not stop challenging homophobia and transphobia -- even as we've had to part ways with folks we once called friends and allies. We will not stop centering the leadership of people of color, LGTBQIA individuals, poor and working-class people, women, immigrants and people with disabilities -- even when it means confronting those who see our liberation as their oppression, whether they look like us or not.
We are willing to risk financial support and friendships to build co-ops that are on the side of racial, economic, and social justice because it so deeply matters that we do. People's lives are at stake. Last month at the Summer Co-op Academy, about which you'll receive a newsletter next week, we visited the Three Rivers Market Food Co-op. Three Rivers is the only food co-op in Tennessee today in part because 125 years ago, Thomas Moss, Calvin McDowell and Will Stewart -- the worker-owners of People’s Grocery, a black-owned co-op grocery store in Memphis, Tennessee -- were lynched by a white mob for being too financially successful. We share this with you because far too many people tell us to focus on building co-ops and not social justice (this happens more than you might think), and we know that a more cooperative, fair, and just economy is not possible without dismantling white supremacy, toxic masculinity, and other forms of hate that seek to rob so many of us of our human right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
When unthinkable hate continues to drive wedges into our communities or drive young men (and women), often white, to murder those who are different from them, it is up to all of us to end hate and intolerance in all its shades of gray. CoFED is queer, of color, working-class, immigrant, differently abled, multiracial, multicultural, multifaith and multiclass. We know where we stand in the fight for America; it's in the hope that all of us stand together on the side of destroying white supremacy and fighting for racial, economic, and social justice.