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Feeding the Other: Whiteness, Privilege, and Neoliberal Stigma in Food Pantries
How food pantries stigmatize their clients through a discourse that emphasizes hard work, self help, and economic productivity rather than food justice and equity.The United States has one of the highest rates of hunger and food insecurity in the industrialized world, with poor households, single parents, and communities of color disproportionately affected. Food pantries--run by charitable and faith-based organizations--rather than legal entitlements have become a cornerstone of the government's efforts to end hunger. In Feeding the Other, Rebecca de Souza argues that food pantries stigmatize their clients through a discourse that emphasizes hard work, self help, and economic productivity rather than food justice and equity. De Souza describes this "framing, blaming, and shaming" as "neoliberal stigma" that recasts the structural issue of hunger as a problem for the individual hungry person.
De Souza shows how neoliberal stigma plays out in practice through a comparative case analysis of two food pantries in Duluth, Minnesota. Doing so, she documents the seldom-acknowledged voices, experiences, and realities of people living with hunger. She describes the failure of public institutions to protect citizens from poverty and hunger; the white privilege of pantry volunteers caught between neoliberal narratives and social justice concerns; the evangelical conviction that food assistance should be "a hand up, not a handout"; the culture of suspicion in food pantry spaces; and the constraints on food choice. It is only by rejecting the neoliberal narrative and giving voice to the hungry rather than the privileged, de Souza argues, that food pantries can become agents of food justice.
De Souza shows how neoliberal stigma plays out in practice through a comparative case analysis of two food pantries in Duluth, Minnesota. Doing so, she documents the seldom-acknowledged voices, experiences, and realities of people living with hunger. She describes the failure of public institutions to protect citizens from poverty and hunger; the white privilege of pantry volunteers caught between neoliberal narratives and social justice concerns; the evangelical conviction that food assistance should be "a hand up, not a handout"; the culture of suspicion in food pantry spaces; and the constraints on food choice. It is only by rejecting the neoliberal narrative and giving voice to the hungry rather than the privileged, de Souza argues, that food pantries can become agents of food justice.
312 pages, Paperback
Published April 9, 2019
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November 28, 2022
A joke making the rounds a few years ago went something like this: there are two kinds of people in the world, those who believe there are two kinds of people in the world and those who don't. At the time most people, including me, who told this joke did so because we were firmly in the latter camp, but now I'm not so sure. The polarization in this country has become more and more real with every passing day.
I bring this up because when it comes to hunger there seems to be two distinct camps. The first, which I will call the progressive view, is that capitalism by its very nature creates poverty and hunger. The haves and have-nots are, for the most part, stuck in their respective positions and this inequity and inequality are, if anything, growing. It is also axiomatic, in the progressive view, that society and its governments are inherently racist and misogynistic. The second, neoliberal view, holds that we are all born equal, that we have an equal chance to excel and become wealthy. The corollary to this view is that the wealthy are deserving of their wealth and there is something vaguely (and often explicitly) illicit about being poor or hungry. All that needs to happen, by neoliberal logic, is for the poor person to work harder and good things will follow. (Yes, I recognize that both are oversimplifications, but they will do for this review).
This distinction is essential to my review of Feeding the Other because it is firmly in the progressive camp. (Full disclosure: I share this point of view). If your views tend toward the neoliberal you will not get much from this book; having disagreed with its premises, the conclusions de Souza reaches will only annoy you.
What de Souza is getting at here is that, far from being a solution to hunger, food banks are by and large part of the "hunger-industrial complex," which looks something like this: through subsidies and price controls, corporate producers of food make big bank by producing large amounts of food, much of which is highly processed and full of things such as sugar and salt. If there is excess food it is donated to food distribution programs, which is turn give it to food banks and pantries. Well-meaning liberal folks volunteer to do this food distribution without giving much thought to their place in the machine of food inequity and most with their neoliberal biases firmly intact. They are, in the words of the title, serving the "other," those unfortunate, marginalized people who need their charity.
We rarely take a step back and consider the absurdity of a society in which some people are allowed to build yachts the size of small cities while others are allowed to go without food, healthcare, and housing. I am enough of a pragmatist to recognize the utility to a society of incentives to innovation; thus, I believe that some sort of Marxist scheme to redistribute all wealth would be a failure on all levels. However, this idea can mask the fact that great wealth is an obscenity when even one person is without the necessities which make life possible. It is hardly original with me to say that the bare necessities of life are food, clothing, shelter, and health care (in fact, the first time it was stated, as far as I can tell, was by the Buddha several thousand years ago). I would assert that until all four of these are absolutely guaranteed to all persons, wealth is an abomination.
De Souza castigates these neoliberal do-gooders (another disclosure: I volunteer in a food bank), painting them as rather clueless and standing in judgment over those they serve. This is no doubt true; the neoliberal façade is very appealing and seems to explain so much of what goes on in the world. It also absolves us of responsibility for the outcomes of our economic system so long as we do "good works." Of course, the problem of the moment is that people are hungry, so getting food to them is a good thing, no matter the underlying system which created the hunger in the first place. She acknowledges this and prescribes a combination of ongoing food distribution with enlightened advocacy for true food justice.
The odd thing about this book, though, and the reason I could not rate it more highly than I have, is that de Souza herself reeks of privilege and judgment; rather than compassion she wields the weapon of intellectualism and social services jargon to place us all into our categories and determine, as if from on high, who is noble and awakened (all poor people and any person of color) and who are ignorant, well-meaning dupes (all middle-class people, especially the white ones and those who have religious motives for their actions). Don't get me wrong, she may have something of a point—being white and privileged myself, I become more aware each day of my blind spots. But this sort of division simplifies a narrative which is far more complex than she would like to portray. Granted, this book seems to have sprung from a dissertation or thesis, thus the need to tie oneself up in jargon and draw firm conclusions; academia is no place for ambiguity.
De Souza also seems to not realize she is acting from within the patriarchal mindset when she believes she can draw conclusions from what the food bank clients say, as if she has some special insight and can speak for them. Yes, she often reproduces their words, which is a good start, but then uses those words to fill in a thesis she has already spun rather than allowing them to lead to a natural conclusion which may not entirely fit her world view. At one point in her interviews she says of her subject, "...there are many things she does not say...but in how she moves, in her stutter, in her silence, desire, loss, chaos, sorrow, and grief are made clear." It must be amazing to be clairvoyant and given permission to speak for others when they are apparently not self-aware enough to do it for themselves. Of another she states, "Her disorder is the hunger of the mind related to trauma, depression, a life of deprivation, and violence;" de Souza can apparently deduce this from a single, simple interview. This is the arrogance of privilege; the author seems to be wholly unaware she is displaying it.
I also found tiresome de Souza's nearly constant use of sociological jargon; she also seemed to use made up words with some frequency. ("responsibilized"?) In particular, if I had a dime for every time she used the word "discursive" I would have a pocket full of change. I suspect this word has a very specific meaning in her field, but its use here feels vague and communicates very little. A good editor should have asked the author to rewrite this book in more accessible language.
Three other things which fall into the realm of quibbles, but which annoyed me:
1. She states that use of products past the "sell-by" dates somehow benefits the food producers when, in fact, quite the opposite is true. Sell-by dates are largely an invention of food manufacturers and are wholly artificial, not based on any science at all, the hope being that these foods will be discarded and thereby increase sales.
2. She implies that gardening increases food independence and can be a major source of affordable sustenance for those who are hungry. Gardening, while it has distinct psychological and ecological benefits, is a very expensive way to produce a relatively small amount of food. Gardening on a small scale is a hobby; a lovely one which may well have other benefits, but very inefficient as a food source.
3. De Souza endorses her clients' bias toward brand name foods, implying that off-brand food is somehow inferior. This is precisely what the big food producers would like us to believe. At best, name brand foods are exactly the same but pricier; at worst, they represent the most abusive practices in the industry. It is ironic that she uses as an avatar for brand name quality the chicken-producing conglomerate Tyson, a corporation well-known for its abusive treatment of both animals and workers.
I don't want these complaints to detract from the fact that I fully endorse de Souza's basic premise, that food banks are part of the hunger problem unless they openly acknowledge the essentially paternalistic role they play in a deeply unfair society. This, to my way of thinking, is irrefutably true. We must all continue to advocate for a more just society in which we all get what we need without feeling stigmatized, but as full citizens receiving what we deserve and have every right to demand.
I bring this up because when it comes to hunger there seems to be two distinct camps. The first, which I will call the progressive view, is that capitalism by its very nature creates poverty and hunger. The haves and have-nots are, for the most part, stuck in their respective positions and this inequity and inequality are, if anything, growing. It is also axiomatic, in the progressive view, that society and its governments are inherently racist and misogynistic. The second, neoliberal view, holds that we are all born equal, that we have an equal chance to excel and become wealthy. The corollary to this view is that the wealthy are deserving of their wealth and there is something vaguely (and often explicitly) illicit about being poor or hungry. All that needs to happen, by neoliberal logic, is for the poor person to work harder and good things will follow. (Yes, I recognize that both are oversimplifications, but they will do for this review).
This distinction is essential to my review of Feeding the Other because it is firmly in the progressive camp. (Full disclosure: I share this point of view). If your views tend toward the neoliberal you will not get much from this book; having disagreed with its premises, the conclusions de Souza reaches will only annoy you.
What de Souza is getting at here is that, far from being a solution to hunger, food banks are by and large part of the "hunger-industrial complex," which looks something like this: through subsidies and price controls, corporate producers of food make big bank by producing large amounts of food, much of which is highly processed and full of things such as sugar and salt. If there is excess food it is donated to food distribution programs, which is turn give it to food banks and pantries. Well-meaning liberal folks volunteer to do this food distribution without giving much thought to their place in the machine of food inequity and most with their neoliberal biases firmly intact. They are, in the words of the title, serving the "other," those unfortunate, marginalized people who need their charity.
We rarely take a step back and consider the absurdity of a society in which some people are allowed to build yachts the size of small cities while others are allowed to go without food, healthcare, and housing. I am enough of a pragmatist to recognize the utility to a society of incentives to innovation; thus, I believe that some sort of Marxist scheme to redistribute all wealth would be a failure on all levels. However, this idea can mask the fact that great wealth is an obscenity when even one person is without the necessities which make life possible. It is hardly original with me to say that the bare necessities of life are food, clothing, shelter, and health care (in fact, the first time it was stated, as far as I can tell, was by the Buddha several thousand years ago). I would assert that until all four of these are absolutely guaranteed to all persons, wealth is an abomination.
De Souza castigates these neoliberal do-gooders (another disclosure: I volunteer in a food bank), painting them as rather clueless and standing in judgment over those they serve. This is no doubt true; the neoliberal façade is very appealing and seems to explain so much of what goes on in the world. It also absolves us of responsibility for the outcomes of our economic system so long as we do "good works." Of course, the problem of the moment is that people are hungry, so getting food to them is a good thing, no matter the underlying system which created the hunger in the first place. She acknowledges this and prescribes a combination of ongoing food distribution with enlightened advocacy for true food justice.
The odd thing about this book, though, and the reason I could not rate it more highly than I have, is that de Souza herself reeks of privilege and judgment; rather than compassion she wields the weapon of intellectualism and social services jargon to place us all into our categories and determine, as if from on high, who is noble and awakened (all poor people and any person of color) and who are ignorant, well-meaning dupes (all middle-class people, especially the white ones and those who have religious motives for their actions). Don't get me wrong, she may have something of a point—being white and privileged myself, I become more aware each day of my blind spots. But this sort of division simplifies a narrative which is far more complex than she would like to portray. Granted, this book seems to have sprung from a dissertation or thesis, thus the need to tie oneself up in jargon and draw firm conclusions; academia is no place for ambiguity.
De Souza also seems to not realize she is acting from within the patriarchal mindset when she believes she can draw conclusions from what the food bank clients say, as if she has some special insight and can speak for them. Yes, she often reproduces their words, which is a good start, but then uses those words to fill in a thesis she has already spun rather than allowing them to lead to a natural conclusion which may not entirely fit her world view. At one point in her interviews she says of her subject, "...there are many things she does not say...but in how she moves, in her stutter, in her silence, desire, loss, chaos, sorrow, and grief are made clear." It must be amazing to be clairvoyant and given permission to speak for others when they are apparently not self-aware enough to do it for themselves. Of another she states, "Her disorder is the hunger of the mind related to trauma, depression, a life of deprivation, and violence;" de Souza can apparently deduce this from a single, simple interview. This is the arrogance of privilege; the author seems to be wholly unaware she is displaying it.
I also found tiresome de Souza's nearly constant use of sociological jargon; she also seemed to use made up words with some frequency. ("responsibilized"?) In particular, if I had a dime for every time she used the word "discursive" I would have a pocket full of change. I suspect this word has a very specific meaning in her field, but its use here feels vague and communicates very little. A good editor should have asked the author to rewrite this book in more accessible language.
Three other things which fall into the realm of quibbles, but which annoyed me:
1. She states that use of products past the "sell-by" dates somehow benefits the food producers when, in fact, quite the opposite is true. Sell-by dates are largely an invention of food manufacturers and are wholly artificial, not based on any science at all, the hope being that these foods will be discarded and thereby increase sales.
2. She implies that gardening increases food independence and can be a major source of affordable sustenance for those who are hungry. Gardening, while it has distinct psychological and ecological benefits, is a very expensive way to produce a relatively small amount of food. Gardening on a small scale is a hobby; a lovely one which may well have other benefits, but very inefficient as a food source.
3. De Souza endorses her clients' bias toward brand name foods, implying that off-brand food is somehow inferior. This is precisely what the big food producers would like us to believe. At best, name brand foods are exactly the same but pricier; at worst, they represent the most abusive practices in the industry. It is ironic that she uses as an avatar for brand name quality the chicken-producing conglomerate Tyson, a corporation well-known for its abusive treatment of both animals and workers.
I don't want these complaints to detract from the fact that I fully endorse de Souza's basic premise, that food banks are part of the hunger problem unless they openly acknowledge the essentially paternalistic role they play in a deeply unfair society. This, to my way of thinking, is irrefutably true. We must all continue to advocate for a more just society in which we all get what we need without feeling stigmatized, but as full citizens receiving what we deserve and have every right to demand.
March 5, 2021
Powerful indictment of the political context of food insecurity wherein corporations profit and poor people are stigmatized. As De Souza argues convincingly, " food pantries cannot and will not end hunger, but what they do instead is manage hunger and control the poor through the perpetuation of neo-liberal forms of stigma."
April 3, 2025
I normally try to live (unsuccessfully, but I try!) by the mantra that I store my books at the public library, ahem, but this is a book that I wish I owned, because I wanted to highlight and underline and marginalia the ever-loving snot out of it!
As a middle-aged, mostly stay-at-home white woman with lots of experience volunteering, with lots of that volunteer experience having taken place with food provision programs, I quite resembled some of the remarks de Souza made about the practice of volunteering at food pantries, and I’ve also witnessed most of what she noted, both good and bad. I did think that her first-person perspectives leaned too hard towards overtly religious programs, because as a devout atheist I’ve mostly worked with secular programs, but in most parts of the country part of the problem IS that most/all food provision programs are overtly religious. Still, I think that spending more time with secular programming would have given de Souza a more nuanced perspective.
But regardless of whether the food provisioning is done through religious or secular means, the point of de Souza’s book is this: are we or are we not entitled to food?
If we ARE entitled to it (and I’d say that we are, as the “life” part of “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness”), then we should have entitlement programs that enable us to receive it with dignity and enjoy it and thrive from it. If we’re not entitled to it, as we’re currently acting like we’re not, then it becomes the province of charity, and all the meanings that the word “charity” entails.
Here’s what de Souza claims that charity entails:
Instead, de Souza advocates looking at hunger from a social justice standpoint, in which everyone is entitled to healthy, culturally appropriate, palatable food, and if some of us lack that, then it is because there is something amiss in the structure of our society and it must be addressed.
It’s interesting to see a societal blindspot just laid out like that, and it reminds me of other American ideologies that many people seem to blindly believe without cognition: patriotism, for example, and the fervent nationalism at its extreme end. The idea that with hard work and determination, your dreams will come true. Racism. Xenophobia.
Also, the ideology that “free” food, food you didn’t actively earn the money to buy through your hard work and determination, doesn’t need to be palatable, fresh, “fancy,” or desirable in any way. There’s a collective belief that people can “donate” the weird food they don’t want to eat, or expired food, or the absolute cheapest schlock they can find at the grocery store, and the recipients ought to be grateful to get it. Fuck them if they were craving fresh strawberries, or want to bake the same exact birthday cake their grandma used to bake them, or got food poisoning once and now have a healthy fear of products past their expiration date. If food is an entitlement, then you’re entitled to food that makes you feel satisfied both physically and emotionally. If food is charity, then you get what you get and you don’t pitch a fit.
Although de Souza spoke a lot about this, and about the low nutrient density in the highly processed, industrial food that’s the staple of most food provision programs, and how many people who wish to eat healthier, fresher, more natural food can’t access it through food provision programs, I think there’s much more to be said about how this type of food is also ruining the palates of generation after generation of children. Remember when Michelle Obama put more nutritious lunches in front of schoolchildren and lots of people pitched that fit? I mean, yes, most of that was racism, but there actually was a good bit of food refusal going on with kids who were all, “EW an orange!” and then came home and told their parents who are all, “EW they gave you an ORANGE?!?” Because when you’re used to the flavor and texture of highly-processed, overly salted and high fructose corn syruped industrial food, then fresh, healthy, nutritious food, even though it’s delicious and so much better for you, is not going to taste right in your mouth. And if you keep not choosing it, then it’s never going to taste right in your mouth. And that’s another win for the huge industrial food manufacturers.
If we have to have an ideology, then, let it be that all of us are entitled to food that is healthy, palatable, and culturally appropriate. We’re entitled to fun food. We’re entitled to fancy food. We’re entitled to comfort food. We’re entitled to both locally-grown sweet corn and novelty chicken nuggets, a bite of black truffle because we’re curious to know what it tastes like and a bowl of Top Ramen because that’s the only thing that sounds good when we’re sick. To legislate from that ideology, then, we need to increase minimum wages. We need to lower rents. We need to streamline access to food entitlement programs like SNAP and WIC so that half the purpose is no longer to stigmatize the recipients. We need to slap down political machinations and racist and sexist narratives the second they leave a politician’s mouth.
But also, we’re not nearly there yet so, you know, keep donating to your local food pantry.
As a middle-aged, mostly stay-at-home white woman with lots of experience volunteering, with lots of that volunteer experience having taken place with food provision programs, I quite resembled some of the remarks de Souza made about the practice of volunteering at food pantries, and I’ve also witnessed most of what she noted, both good and bad. I did think that her first-person perspectives leaned too hard towards overtly religious programs, because as a devout atheist I’ve mostly worked with secular programs, but in most parts of the country part of the problem IS that most/all food provision programs are overtly religious. Still, I think that spending more time with secular programming would have given de Souza a more nuanced perspective.
But regardless of whether the food provisioning is done through religious or secular means, the point of de Souza’s book is this: are we or are we not entitled to food?
If we ARE entitled to it (and I’d say that we are, as the “life” part of “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness”), then we should have entitlement programs that enable us to receive it with dignity and enjoy it and thrive from it. If we’re not entitled to it, as we’re currently acting like we’re not, then it becomes the province of charity, and all the meanings that the word “charity” entails.
Here’s what de Souza claims that charity entails:
“Charity depoliticizes the issue of hunger, making it a personal and a private issue, not a public one [...]. Unlike entitlements, charity does not confer upon people guaranteed rights, but rather traffics in the language of gratitude. Charity legitimizes the distribution of substandard products and services and makes it impossible to question the giver or the gift. [...] Charity reinforces social distance and hierarchy between givers and receivers and Us and Them [...]. Consequently, charity silences civic participation and resistance from those on the receiving end by creating subject positions that furthers their political and communicative disenfranchisement.”
Instead, de Souza advocates looking at hunger from a social justice standpoint, in which everyone is entitled to healthy, culturally appropriate, palatable food, and if some of us lack that, then it is because there is something amiss in the structure of our society and it must be addressed.
It’s interesting to see a societal blindspot just laid out like that, and it reminds me of other American ideologies that many people seem to blindly believe without cognition: patriotism, for example, and the fervent nationalism at its extreme end. The idea that with hard work and determination, your dreams will come true. Racism. Xenophobia.
Also, the ideology that “free” food, food you didn’t actively earn the money to buy through your hard work and determination, doesn’t need to be palatable, fresh, “fancy,” or desirable in any way. There’s a collective belief that people can “donate” the weird food they don’t want to eat, or expired food, or the absolute cheapest schlock they can find at the grocery store, and the recipients ought to be grateful to get it. Fuck them if they were craving fresh strawberries, or want to bake the same exact birthday cake their grandma used to bake them, or got food poisoning once and now have a healthy fear of products past their expiration date. If food is an entitlement, then you’re entitled to food that makes you feel satisfied both physically and emotionally. If food is charity, then you get what you get and you don’t pitch a fit.
Although de Souza spoke a lot about this, and about the low nutrient density in the highly processed, industrial food that’s the staple of most food provision programs, and how many people who wish to eat healthier, fresher, more natural food can’t access it through food provision programs, I think there’s much more to be said about how this type of food is also ruining the palates of generation after generation of children. Remember when Michelle Obama put more nutritious lunches in front of schoolchildren and lots of people pitched that fit? I mean, yes, most of that was racism, but there actually was a good bit of food refusal going on with kids who were all, “EW an orange!” and then came home and told their parents who are all, “EW they gave you an ORANGE?!?” Because when you’re used to the flavor and texture of highly-processed, overly salted and high fructose corn syruped industrial food, then fresh, healthy, nutritious food, even though it’s delicious and so much better for you, is not going to taste right in your mouth. And if you keep not choosing it, then it’s never going to taste right in your mouth. And that’s another win for the huge industrial food manufacturers.
If we have to have an ideology, then, let it be that all of us are entitled to food that is healthy, palatable, and culturally appropriate. We’re entitled to fun food. We’re entitled to fancy food. We’re entitled to comfort food. We’re entitled to both locally-grown sweet corn and novelty chicken nuggets, a bite of black truffle because we’re curious to know what it tastes like and a bowl of Top Ramen because that’s the only thing that sounds good when we’re sick. To legislate from that ideology, then, we need to increase minimum wages. We need to lower rents. We need to streamline access to food entitlement programs like SNAP and WIC so that half the purpose is no longer to stigmatize the recipients. We need to slap down political machinations and racist and sexist narratives the second they leave a politician’s mouth.
But also, we’re not nearly there yet so, you know, keep donating to your local food pantry.
February 3, 2021
Rebecca’s research provides a tremendous counter narrative to the traditional stereotypes associated with nutrition assistance programs, poverty, and food insecurity. As a current foodbanker and “good white woman” (ch 4), I am thankful for the space this read created to assess my own bias and my contributions to an unjust food system.
April 27, 2021
Compared to other scholarly writings, I found this book to be really engaging. The author does a great job mixing research, history, theory and personal stories for a captivating read. I learned a lot about food insecurity from sides that aren't typically exposed (ex. stories from people experiencing food insecurity, critiques of faith-based organizations and challenging "good white liberals").
April 6, 2019
70 quid? are you kidding me, I downloaded it free off the net. reads like someone who has spent too much time gazing into other peoples navels.
March 3, 2021
Powerful research-based book on how capitalism has allowed the US Government to abandon its citizens and turn to rich (mostly white) people to feed the hungry without much compassion or dignity.
July 26, 2020
Great read summarizing the issues with food pantries that many Americans may not realize: the upholding of the industrial food complex, white savior mindset and racial/gender stigma among pantry volunteers, the trappings and failures of government assistance, and the concept of a "good" and "deserving" citizen as viewed through a capitalist, racist, and patriarchial lens. Rebecca de Souza features interviews with several folks who use food pantries and paints a picture of complex, nuanced human beings -- a far cry from the stereotypes many hold of people who utilize food pantries. She also recommends policy changes and a reimagining of food pantries in a way that promotes structural change benefitting underserved, food-insecure communities. Highly recommended read for anyone interested in food justice.
December 6, 2023
Tactics of food division based on the color of your skin, why YES that's exactly what this book is about!
How does one become so disenfranchised with reality that they would actually think hard work, self-help and economic productivity is a BAD thing, and that food justice and equality isn't? You can't make this stuff up, you really can't.
Either this author works on behalf of our government with the intended goal of food reduction to certain or all ethnicities (pop control), or she's truly just legitimately crazy. I think she's both.
How does one become so disenfranchised with reality that they would actually think hard work, self-help and economic productivity is a BAD thing, and that food justice and equality isn't? You can't make this stuff up, you really can't.
Either this author works on behalf of our government with the intended goal of food reduction to certain or all ethnicities (pop control), or she's truly just legitimately crazy. I think she's both.
October 13, 2025
As someone with two degrees in nutrition, I have almost no sense of hope that food insecurity will be fixed anytime soon. Unfortunately I think it will take a lot of work for individuals with implicit biases to get over these and a lot of the time it starts in the home and so patterns of racism continue.
March 28, 2024
An amazing place to start for anyone interested in food justice work. Feeding the Other is a personable and approachable look at how we are doing food wrong broadly and more specifically the wrongs in food pantry practices in America. This novel largely influenced the work I do in my community and inspired my undergraduate thesis project.
Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews