When Harry Anderson discovered an artichoke growing in his garden in Washington State, he rejoiced. Here he ruminates on the significance of this “lowly relative of the thistle,” both historical and current. “Its tough outer leaves protect a soft and tender core. And if left untouched in the garden, the bud, which is what we eat, eventually opens to reveal a stunning violet-colored flower, generously offering its inner beauty to the world. That’s about as symbolic as it gets: I now consider it a model of how all of us might learn to live as we negotiate a pandemic and widespread civil unrest.”
Over the last decade, the Indigenous Marind in Papua, Indonesia, have lost their customary forests to agribusiness projects, writes Sophi Chao. “These developments … are promoted by the Indonesian government in an effort to achieve national self-sufficiency … On the ground, however, agribusiness expansion is undermining the food and water security of Marind communities. ‘Now, oil palm eats our land,’ says the wife of a clan chief. ‘Our skin is dry and grey, and our bodies are weak. Our children are small and frail. Many die before they have even learned to walk the forest. Now, Marind eat rice and instant noodles. Since oil palm arrived, everyone is hungry. This hunger never goes away.’”
Nancy Green, a formerly enslaved woman from Mt. Sterling, Kentucky, was working as a cook for a Chicago family when she was “recruited in 1890 as the original living incarnation of Aunt Jemima and played the part into the first decade of the 20th century,” writes Sam Roberts. She died in 1923, but “Aunt Jemima, the character, would outlast Green for another 97 years on labels and boxes, until last month, when Quaker Oats” retired her, “acknowledging that she had been ‘based on a racial stereotype.’”
In the middle of the pandemic, two Trader Joe’s shoppers — Mercedes Davis and Lauren Hight — created an Instagram page, Black Girls in Trader Joe’s — because they weren’t “seeing any brown hands” among the store’s numerous fan pages. It quickly became “a space where Black people, particularly Black women, are finding solace amid the chaos of a global pandemic and civil unrest.” It also, writes Kristin Corry, launched the two women into the political debate over food access. “By centering their page around Black consumers, the two are debunking the myth that quality food is reserved for predominantly white communities.”
As ongoing civil unrest forces an uncomfortable reckoning within corporate America, Ben & Jerry’s is leveraging its decades of progressive activism, including early support for Black Lives Matter, to push for change. “While most shoppers came to know the brand for apolitical waistline crimes such as Caramel Chew Chew, it simultaneously became a committed corporate activist, campaigning for causes such as same-sex marriage, criminal justice reform, and nature conservation,” write Jordyn Holman and Thomas Buckley.