FERN’s Friday Feed: Who decides what Native Americans eat?
Welcome to FERN’s Friday Feed (#FFF), where we share the stories from this week that made us stop and think.
The case for boosting tribal food sovereignty
FERN and Mother Jones
“For years, the Oneida Nation has been growing crops and raising cattle and buffalo on its 65,000-acre reservation near Green Bay, Wisconsin. Now, some of that food is doing more than nourishing people: It’s helping undo centuries of government overreach. As part of a pilot program included in the 2018 farm bill,” Bridget Huber writes, “the tribe is using federal dollars to buy food grown on the reservation and by other nearby Native producers and distributing it for free to low-income members of its tribe and another, the Menominee Indian Tribe of Wisconsin.”
Riding the meal train
Taste
“When I gave birth to my son late last year, I had recently moved into a new co-op building complex in a new neighborhood in Upper Manhattan. In leveling up to a space more suitable for child-rearing, I had sequestered myself some 15 miles—and a long subway ride—from my friends, most of whom were scattered throughout Brooklyn, where I had lived for the last 20 years,” writes Cathy Erway. “So I didn’t expect to receive the procession of lovingly prepared chicken soups, ragùs, and enchiladas that sprang into production whenever one of us was recovering from birth or a surgery, or while a whole household was quarantining with COVID. Instead, I was stunned by the generosity of my new neighbors, and I was soon up to my elbows in three-bean chili, lobster ravioli, and oatmeal cookies. It turns out my building complex has an active parents’ committee that takes meal trains, as these charitable Tupperware dinners were often called, very seriously.”
Butcher shops are struggling. Women are picking up the knife.
Longreads
“I am standing in the middle of a large, stark classroom,” writes Olivia Potts. “If you glanced through the window or peeked through the door you might think it’s a school science lab. But as you enter, it’s apparent that this is not a space for Bunsen burners or glass beakers. For starters, it is very cold, like standing inside a fridge, and in place of desks, there are large, thick slabs of wood with steel legs, nailed into the floor and spaced at regular intervals. I’m wearing a white coat—not unlike a lab coat, actually—paired with non-slip safety shoes and a particularly unflattering white mesh, trilby-style hat. I am also sporting a chain-mail vest and a thick, plastic, wipe-down red-and-white-striped apron. More tellingly still, on the block in front of me are half a dozen dead pheasants. This is the butchery department, deep in the bowels of Waltham Forest College in North East London, UK, where I am the only female student.”
Solving farmers’ food-loss problem
Ambrook Research
“Farmers regularly have to deal with surprise surpluses that eat into their labor and planning costs. It’s a problem, and not just because of the pressure those surpluses put on farmers: The U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) estimates that nearly 13% of US households are food insecure. At the same time,” writes Emma Glassman-Hughes, “108 billion pounds of produce go to waste in the U.S. annually, according to the Farmlink report, accounting for 58% of our landfill methane emissions. And while food waste has become a hot topic — growing hotter everyday thanks to those greenhouse gasses — the related issue of food loss, or food that’s lost before it even makes it to the consumer, is less studied and less understood.”
Could we literally invest in nature?
The New York Times
“Picture this: You own a few hundred acres near a growing town that your family has been farming for generations. Turning a profit has gotten harder, and none of your children want to take it over. You don’t want to sell the land; you love the open space, the flora and fauna it hosts. But offers from developers who would turn it into subdivisions or strip malls seem increasingly tempting. One day,” writes Lydia DePillis, “a land broker mentions an idea. How about granting a long-term lease to a company that values your property for the same reasons you do: long walks through tall grass, the calls of migrating birds, the way it keeps the air and water clean. It sounds like a scam. Or charity. In fact, it’s an approach backed by hardheaded investors who think nature has an intrinsic value that can provide them with a return down the road — and in the meantime, they would be happy to hold shares of the new company on their balance sheets.”