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Sometimes the world seems irreversibly damaged. There’s so much anger and hatred, produced by what I have to assume are (or once were) good intentions. I wonder how we as a society step away from our current loop of confirmation bias and create a new trend of listening. And loving our neighbors. And wanting what’s best for our fellow man because at the end of the day their well-being is ours.
What do we do when we don’t know what to do?
It’s disconcerting to look at the big picture and realize the frame is falling off the wall. How do we even begin to prioritize the seemingly endless list of troubles we’re facing?
The best way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time, right? So we will plant seeds and water crops and breathe. We will wait until the crops are ripe. We will harvest. Then, in a modest, meager attempt to act on our convictions, we will deliver our organic, lovingly-raised, hard-fought-for crops to a nearby minority-dominant community that doesn’t have access to fresh produce. We believe wholesome food can do a body good, and that’s what we have to offer.
This is one small way of acknowledging we come from a place of privilege by being born into white skin, by being raised in safe neighborhoods with decent schools that opened doors to future successes, by never being unfairly suspected of wrongdoing because of the way we look, by being blessed with the opportunity to tend this land in the first place. We acknowledge our privilege in this moment, and we refuse to squander it on ourselves.
How do we already know our plan is a failure of sorts?
We know this is a drop in the bucket. We know it’s more impactful to teach a man to fish than to give him one you’ve already caught. We hope one day our outreach will be a partnership with local communities, through which we work with people to raise their own food, but we’re just not there yet. In the meantime, we’re doing what we can do share our bounty.