Rhonda Young
Program Associate
Laboratory to Combat Human Trafficking

One of the greatest pleasures I have experienced in life is the blessing of sharing a meal with people I love. And while many of US holidays have been hijacked by overt commercialism, it seems like Thanksgiving has remained a holiday that is primarily about the relational importance of sharing an extended meal. Yet, as a food-centered holiday, there are aspects of Thanksgiving that give me pause. And while LCHT wishes you and yours a safe and festive Thanksgiving holiday, I want to start a discussion about how to consider food justice while planning this year’s festivities.

Primarily, I want to consider the star of the Thanksgiving meal, our old friend Tom. Now, I have to admit, I am not a fan of turkey and have always been more than willing to forgo his white meat for an extra helping of green bean casserole. But I surmise that most of you out there (excluding my vegetarian and vegan friends – yeah to-furkey!) would consider turkey essential to the feast. So to that end, let us consider Tom and his heritage.


Photo Credit: The Washington Times

One of my favorite pieces of useless trivia: Did you know that the founding fathers considered making the turkey the American national symbol? What a long way turkeys have fallen in national consciousness! Today, the turkey species revered (and eaten) by early Americans is now edging on extinction due to genetic engineering. In a 2001 New York Times article Marian Burros writes, “The turkey you'll be eating could never exist in nature. After 50 years of overengineering, it has morphed into a bizarre, ungainly beast that can no longer run, fly or even lay eggs. And all in the name of progress: what it can do is supply copious quantities of white breast meat at the expense of the dark meat from the leg and thigh.”

That’s right, folks. The proud turkey that once competed with the bald eagle for the title of “America’s National Symbol” is now a genetically modified mess. And given that most white-breasted turkeys today are slaughtered at the ripe old age of 18 months, the bird’s existence is surely a sad one. All in the name of quick, tasteless, commercialized perfection.

No, we are not an animal rights organization. But as I mentioned in my last blog, food issues are often interconnected. I would argue that the respect and value (or lack there of) given to animals is only a reflection of how we respect and value humans. And while white-breasted turkeys live a miserable 18-month existence, labor rights advocates fight a daily struggle to gain basic human rights for workers in the food processing industry. The Food Chain Workers Alliance outlines the serious realities of America’s food processing:

• Meatpacking is the one of the most dangerous jobs in America – more than 1 in 10 workers in meatpacking plants suffer illness and injuries, double the rate for all U.S. manufacturing.[4]
• The average earnings of meatpacking workers are $11.13/hour, 29% less than the average wage for all manufacturing jobs in the U.S.[3]
• “Without living wages and benefits, food system workers cannot afford healthy food and often must work more than one job or 12+ hour days in order to pay for rent, food, and other necessities, and therefore they do not even have the time to cook fresh food.”

(Citations can be found at the bottom of this page.)

But I don’t want to leave you all in a funk as a result of my “Debby Downer” thoughts about turkey and food industry workers. I will leave you with just a few things I’m truly thankful for:

• My Monroe Organic Farm Share with yummy local veggies that will soon become my own version of a Colorado-style Thanksgiving feast.
• My “family,” including blood relatives, colleagues, and friends. I’m thankful for the conversations we engage in together, and the connections between us as we all navigate this crazy thing called life.
• Grace to make mistakes, learn more, and grow. I know that I don’t know everything. And when it comes to food (and life!) the choices and connections are so complex that I can only make decisions based on what I know today. Tomorrow, I may learn something new and decide to approach food in a totally different way. Or, in an all too often moment of weakness, I may have an insatiable craving for a milk shake. I will go to the nearest fast food joint, ignore my scruples, purchase and consume said milk shake. (I’m only human after all.)
• You! I am so thankful for the support, deep conversations, and true progress that we are making together on issues like food justice. Thank you!

We at LCHT are interested in continuing the conversation about the holidays and food justice, and we would love to hear your own thoughts on the issue. Please post any resources that have helped you make decisions about what food you buy and/or consume during the holidays or throughout the year.

Here are few of my own recommended sources:

• Slow Food’s Support of Heritage Turkeys
• What is a Heritage Turkey?
• Immokalee Workers negotiate important labor rights
• Food Workers Rights – connection to immigrant rights, exploitation
• The connection between food, labor exploitation, and poverty

Rhonda Young
Program Associate
Laboratory to Combat Human Trafficking

It started with my move to Denver. I expected the acclimation to the altitude, the outdoorsy “let’s hike a 14er” attitude, and the presence of jeans and cowboy boots at every event from graduations to weddings. I did not expect the meaningful conversations about agriculture, the prevalence of buy local sentiments, or the general culture of foodie-ness. And I most certainly did not expect to connect my food choices to my understanding of human trafficking.

But moving to Denver and meeting socially- and gastronomically-conscious foodies has fundamentally shifted my perception of daily meals. While the national and international voices of Vandana Shiva, Wendell Barry, Michael Pollan, and Nina Planck have informed my decisions philosophically, it has been the day-to-day discussions with fellow students, coworkers and friends that have sent me on a path of local discovery and personal food choices.

That said, I canned pickles this summer. As I poured the hot and smelly brine into the last jar, I thought to myself, “How did I get here?”

It started with a conversation with a fellow church congregant and friend, Gretchen. I told her that I had been thinking about the connection between where our food comes from and exploitation. I wanted to start making personal life choices that matched my professional decision to pursue a career in the anti-trafficking field. Gretchen, who pursues local eating herself, recommended I check out a local Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) farm share with Monroe Organic Farms here in Colorado. Months of new recipes, bags of veggies, and a purchase of canning supplies later, I was turning Monroe’s cucumbers into tasty jars of pickles. But even as I savored my culinary accomplishments, mentally, I was still navigating the complicated connection between food and exploitation.

Wendell Barry suggests that intentional eating involves more than choosing an organically-produced vegetable. He emphasizes the need to relink human, animal, and vegetable life in the agricultural process. As our video, "Every Small Action" says, “they’re connected.” And it’s true; they are connected. What’s more, those connections make my own food choices even more complex.

So, as I’m still figuring out what to do with the two dozen ears of corn in my freezer, I’m also working through what it means that food and human trafficking, community and animals, labor and agriculture are interlinked. I’ve had some great conversations with folks at my local farmers market, staff at LCHT, friends and family. I hope to expand upon some of these individual themes in future blogs.

But today, I want to start a conversation with you.

How do you understand food and food production in relation to the issue of human trafficking? Where do you get information about food and where food comes from? What individual choices do you make regarding what and where to eat? Let’s start this conversation about connection today.