A Beginner’s Guide to Food Justice

Franny Choi wrote a poem titled “Too Many Truths” in which the opening line is: “I am in love with a broken glass.” That describes perfectly how I feel about bananas. Bananas make the top twenty-five of the “Clean Fifteen” list of fruits and vegetables with the lowest pesticide residues, because once peeled, they’re safe to eat. Bananas are amazing. They are full of potassium and magnesium (have a leg cramp? eat a banana) and Vitamin C and B6. Vitamin B6 supports your immune system, develops brain function, regulates your mood and helps you sleep better—the list goes on. They also come in their own biodegradable wrapper, kids love them, and they are delicious in smoothies—but their backstory is filled with strife. A Google search will lead you down a rabbit hole of child labor, pesticide-exposure-related illnesses for farm workers (which include birth defects and sterility), deplorable working conditions, water pollution, soil erosion, and poverty. It made me look at “clean” bananas differently, because somebody else is paying the real price.

This is not the only area of our food system we should have a conversation about. I met a single mom who worked at a local grocery store. She was coming to the food pantry for help because she struggled to afford her own groceries. She was looking for a second job but was finding it very challenging because her shifts were posted at the grocery store once a week, and they were never the same from week to week. Something as simple to fix as shift predictability would be completely life changing for many of the workers across our food system. That would allow workers to plan childcare and use second jobs to fill in gaps. Imagine creating systems that empower workers to stabilize their situations?

We can’t have this conversation if we don’t also talk about the environmental impact of food production. Just last week I read a study about foods with the worst reputation when it comes to pollution, carbon footprint, soil erosion, or water use. Some of our favorite treats are on that list, including chocolate, coffee, and sugar. Beef was number one. Food waste only produces 170 million tons of carbon dioxide compared with beef’s extravagant three billion, but food waste is not just about the landfill because we should also account for all the resources deployed during food production, which are then also wasted. Are food waste and food security opposite sides of the same coin?

All of these conversations can be rolled into one giant tortilla: Food Justice. In an ideal world, a utopia, we would all have access to affordable, nutritious, healthy, culturally-relevant food. Our neighbors, near and far, working in the food production process would have safe working conditions and be paid a fair wage, and children would be in school, not carrying machetes or working twelve-hour days. Food would be produced with absolute consideration for (and protection of) our collective resources: soil, water, and air. Every person, regardless of race, ethnicity, or gender, would have equal access to land to grow food. That’s a world I want to live in.

I do not broach this topic from a place of judgment, privilege, or even indignation. I find plant-based meals delicious, and I also enjoy the occasional steak. I make the healthiest choices I can, but I do love salty bacon, and also potato chips, and chocolate.

In the past one hundred years, we have seen a huge growth in population on this planet. Production of food has scaled up rather magnificently, to feed the human race’s expanding appetite. You and I are alive today in an era of human history that is the most “resource rich.” On average, humans have more regular access to food, better shelter, access to water, clothes, sleep, connection, information, and knowledge than any other generation in history.

Supporting Food Justice in your Community

I’m not advocating that we give that up. It’s not a this-or-that choice. What I am advocating for is that we be brave and have difficult conversations. That we be honest with ourselves and each other. That we evaluate these systems, look for what is working well, what needs to change, and collectively apply ourselves to finding solutions. We need to be accountable. Like it or not, we have ownership in the flaws and challenges because we participate in the food system. We literally feed off of it.

In my job as Executive Director of both the Weymouth Food Pantry and the South Shore Food Bank, I wrestle with balancing food cost and food access, and I strive for food equity every day. I understand, with real-world first-hand experience, that if bananas cost $7 each, so many more people would go hungry. Affordable food is essential if we, regardless of our earnings, are to have enough nutritious food to eat. I have to believe, however, that right now, in this moment of being resource-rich humans, we have the tools and ability to do better.

In the last 12 months, households experiencing food insecurity in Massachusetts had to choose between paying for food and paying for:

There is a lot of work already underway. A global initiative by the World Economic Forum and the UN Food and Agriculture Organization have formed a coalition to transition to net-zero, nature-positive food systems by 2030. It supports local solutions and incentivizes farmers to adopt climate-friendly and nature-friendly agricultural practices. This can’t all lie on the shoulders of farmers, though, and some initiatives in operation closer to home also work towards righting the scales of food justice: community gardens and urban agriculture, food recovery networks, mobile markets, policy advocacy and education, and food systems innovation. Weymouth Food Pantry recovers nearly 250,000 pounds of food each year, and South Shore Food Bank has plans to implement a regional food recovery network within the next year.

If you are like me—and here we are, having a conversation, so I suspect we have a lot in common—you might like it when writers offer solutions. Food justice has a lot to do with food sovereignty. People have the right to define and control their own agricultural systems and have access to healthy, culturally-elevant food, and the good news is that this wonderful magazine has been talking about this since the first issue.

Here’s what you can do starting right now, and you probably already do some of these, if not all.

• If you are a gardener, save and share seeds.
• With land comes access to food, shelter, and wealth, so speak up for equitable land access.
• Consider supporting the Southeastern Massachusetts Agricultural Partnership’s work.
• Volunteer at or donate to your local food pantry.
• Shop at farmers’ markets.
• Be a champion of or volunteer at food literacy programs that teach health, nutrition, or cooking skills.

This list is a start, but we have so much to do. Here are some other ways you can help that are critically important:

• pay attention,
• stay informed,
• use your voice, and
• vote with your dollars.

I have faith in our collective intellect and common goodness. We can create a world where we all have equal food access, and a banana isn’t defined by how much you paid for it, but what it really cost. In this world, food justice isn’t a movement. Call me Pollyanna, but I truly believe we can have our bananas and eat them too.

Pamela Denholm was born in Southern Africa. One of her favorite words is Ubuntu. Translated, it’s “to act with kindness and humanity in ways that benefit a community.” It means “I am because we are.” I am full, because we are fed.

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