Author: c22jr

Introduction

Before examining specific women and food justice movements of the 20th century, it is important to understand the broader history of Black women and foodways in the United States. 

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Analysis

Enslaved Black Women and American Foodways 

There was a gendering of Black food cultivation and production that stemmed from cultural practices in pre-enslaved West African communities. On the Rice Coast, the assignment of tasks related to rice cultivation was clearly defined by gender: men would clear the fields, and women would select seeds and plant them. Furthermore, learning how to properly cultivate and cook rice was a rite of passage for women, as only then were they eligible to marry.

Women from the Rice Coast were intentionally captured and enslaved because of their extensive knowledge of rice cultivation. In slave markets, Black women were valued solely on their ability to “grow, pound, and process rice,” and fertility. 

Similarly, some enslaved women were responsible for caring for the livestock on plantations. Many West African cultures deeply engaged with the agricultural process, including interacting with the guinea fowl and other birds. Enslaved women brought these practices and knowledge to the New World, and it was this knowledge that kept plantation geese, hens, turkey, and chickens alive.

The labor and knowledge of Black women were quickly commodified by white enslavers. Without Black women’s understanding of rice, poultry, and other crops and foods, many American foodways that we know today may not even exist. 

Black Motherhood and Racial Uplift

There was a prevalent belief that the Black woman was responsible for “racial uplift” and social elevation. Various HBCUs were established in order to produce female graduates who could be positive influences on the Black community; Organizations such as the National Association of Colored Women (NACW) worked to promote “responsible motherhood” and “community respectability.”

The promotion of social responsibility is also present within the family and domestic sphere with the idea of the “Black matriarch,” a term to describe families led by Black women. This notion has roots in slavery, as enslaved Black women were responsible for taking care of the men and children surrounding them. This labor was necessary for community survival.

The Black woman’s familial responsibility continued into the 20th century, particularly concerning the preparation and consumption of food within the family. Psyche Williams-Forson argues that Black mothers, as the main cooks, were responsible for familial foodways and ensuring that her family received a complete, nutritious, and “acceptable” meal.

Despite a large amount of familial responsibility the Black woman held, labeling this gender role as “the Black matriarch” — an idea with roots in slavery — is a harmful misconception. Angela Davis argues that when one is called a matriarch, it implies that they hold power. Particularly in the context of slavery, families were entirely controlled by the enslaver, and the slaveholding class did not recognize Black women as human. Black women were stripped of their personal autonomy, the right to motherhood, and, thus, their power. To designate Black women as matriarchs is a misrepresentation that fails to acknowledge the systems of oppression working against them.

Conclusion 

Throughout this exhibition, it is important to keep these themes in mind. Black women have a long history of being exploited and having their labor (specifically food/kitchen-related labor) be commodified. Additionally, while Black women had immense responsibility in the domestic sphere, this can be acknowledged without resorting to labeling them as a Black matriarch or other harmful stereotypes. 

In that vein, one of the most notable stereotypes of Black women that is essential to the contextualization of this exhibition is the mammy, explored in-depth in the next section.

Introduction

Notions about the Black matriarch and domesticity drive the creation of the mammy stereotype. Enslaved Black women were heavily abused and labored for hours in hot, detached plantation kitchens.¹ In stark contrast, the “Old South” was glorified in the eyes of postbellum Southerners, thus, in their collective memory, the enslaved Black woman was regarded as merely a “happy, loyal Mammy.”²

Chris L. Rutt and Charles G. Underwood, the owners of the Pearl Milling Company, were looking for a trademark for their self-rising pancake mix. In 1889, Rutt attended a minstrel show where the song “Old Aunt Jemima” was performed.³ In the show, the Aunt Jemima character was highly superstitious and fearful of all advances in technology. She also acted as the highly skilled cook for what Maurice Manring describes as “an idealized version of the Old South.”⁴

Rutt and Underwood proceeded to use this mammy caricature as the face of their product. Manring argues that the mammy figure of Aunt Jemima “soothed guilt over slavery, kept white women out of the kitchen, and put hot food on the table. Like the real slave woman, she saved whites from work.”⁵

With Aunt Jemima Pancake Mix, the Pearl Milling Company was not only selling a product, they were selling a narrative. In 1893, Nancy Green, a formerly enslaved woman and servant for a Chicago judge, was signed to play Aunt Jemima at the Columbian Exposition in Chicago.⁶ There, she cooked pancakes for guests, sang, and told stories of “Aunt Jemima’s” life on the plantation, some of them real experiences from her own enslavement.⁷ 

Green’s portrait was used as a “pleasant”’ logo on all Aunt Jemima products, and her slave stories combined with imagined stories of the South to create the legend of Aunt Jemima. Purd Wright created the first Aunt Jemima backstory, which said that she protected the South and calmed tensions during the Civil War by serving northerners some of her pancakes.⁸

Many other women played the role of Aunt Jemima after Nancy Green’s death in 1925. Each woman followed the pattern of weaving their personal life stories into the legend of Aunt Jemima, to the point where the origins of the character began to blur and countless Black women had their identities lost to a fictional figure.⁹

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Analysis

Particularly noticeable in the television advertisements for Aunt Jemima Pancake Mix, the company placed a large amount of emphasis on the ease of the product. A consumer only has to mix water and the pancake mix and will then have a full meal to serve for their family.¹⁰ Essentially, Aunt Jemima removes the labor of cooking from the consumer — namely the white woman — just as enslaved Black women did the labor for their white enslavers. Aunt Jemima Pancake mix was selling white families a modern mammy.¹¹ This is made more explicit in the first image, as a painting of Aunt Jemima serving her master is a key aspect of the advertisement.¹² 

The second advert says one can get a coupon for a “funny Aunt Jemima Rag Doll” after buying a package of pancake flour.¹³ The third and fourth images show how Aunt Jemima expanded into other kitchen products, a salt shaker and syrup specifically.¹⁴ Similar to a live-in servant or a mammy, Aunt Jemima was present in all aspects of the home, from the rest of the kitchen to a child’s playroom. Aunt Jemima was saving the white woman from labor throughout their daily lives, and therefore, the Black woman was effectively reduced to nothing more than her ability to serve other (white) people. 

Aunt Jemima caricatures and ad campaigns were released as Black women across the country were fighting for food security in their communities. As they worked in food justice, they were consistently dragged down by white America’s perception of them as mammy’s; not only did Black women have to combat hunger and oppression in the Black community, they also had to fight against having their labor and personalities being reduced and intertwined with Aunt Jemima. 

Introduction

Huey Newton and Bobby Seale founded the Black Panther Party (BPP) in 1966 in Oakland, California. Developed in response to the prevalence of police brutality in their communities, the BPP focused on the liberation and self-defense of Black people. ¹

Newton and Seale published the BPP’s Ten-Point Program on May 15, 1967, in the second issue of The Black Panther (the BPP’s weekly newspaper). While the Party is often remembered for their push for armed self-defense, Point 10 reads, “we want land, bread, housing, education, clothing, justice and peace.” ² 

The BPP understood that “self-defense” and liberation was more than just armed resistance, it required ensuring that the basic needs of the Black community were fulfilled. The American government failed to provide the Black community with adequate health care, education, and access to food. The Panthers particularly “recognized hunger as one of the greatest forms of oppression,” as the Black community’s relationship to food is heavily intertwined with racial trauma and structural racism.

In the wake of the state neglecting the Black community, the Black Panthers created a series of community-based “survival programs,” including health clinics, legal aid, and, notably, the Free Breakfast for School Children program.  The first Free Breakfast Program began in Oakland and spread to BPP chapters nationwide, serving 15,000 to 30,000 children daily. The program, which relied on volunteers and donations, helped hungry Black children better focus in school and, eventually, became an educational space itself. The BPP created “liberation schools,” opportunities for children to learn about the Ten-Point Program, structural inequity, and famous Communist revolutionaries. The political nature of the program was highly intentional, as the Panthers believed food itself was political, and their survival programs could be a gateway to Black consciousness and revolution. 

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Analysis

The photos above capture numerous scenes from Free Breakfast Programs across the nation. In addition to the countless children being served in these photos, a noteworthy detail is that many of the volunteers seen cooking and supplying food are women. Despite the number of primary sources that document the contributions of women to the program, secondary literature on the BPP’s survival programs rarely reflects on the theme of gender. 

It can be argued that the Breakfast Program worked to reinforce stereotypes about Black women and perpetuate sexist ideology. 

In a statement to the press, published on April 27, 1969, in The Black Panther Black Community News Service, The Black Panther Party asked for donations of food, kitchen supplies, and money to support the Des Moines breakfast program (see second to last image). 

Point 2 of the statement explicitly asks for “sisters and mothers… to help prepare food and serve the children.” By only asking for female volunteers, the statement perpetuates gender roles that designate (Black) women to the domestic sphere and performing heavy labor there. 

The BPP also held particular beliefs on family structure and motherhood; they believed in the notion of “revolutionary motherhood,” which stated it was the (Black) woman’s responsibility to have children who would then continue the revolution. Thus, some female members became mothers specifically for the cause of the BPP and not out of personal desire. The recruitment of mothers for the breakfast program reinforces this concept and effectively merges Black motherhood with/equates it to political labor. 

An alternative argument, however, is that the Free Breakfast Program provided a unique opportunity for women to engage with and lead radical Black liberation efforts. 

The BPP established that leadership roles and rankings of members were assigned based on merit, not gender. Kathleen Cleaver was the first woman on the Party’s Central Committee; Elaine Brown was chairman of the organization from 1974 to 1977; Andrea Jones and Shirley George-Meadors founded the Boston and San Diego branches of the BPP, respectively.

The BPP allowed for Black women to hold leadership roles in a time where they were often suppressed. As former Panther Safiya Bukhari noted, “In a time when the other nationalist organizations were defining the role of the women as barefoot and pregnant and in the kitchen, women in the Black Panther Party were working right along side the men, being assigned sections to organize just like the men, receiving the same training as the men.” 

Bukhari began her involvement with the BPP by volunteering with the Free Breakfast Program (initially as part of a sorority project). Each morning at 5:00 with her young daughter in tow, Bukhari helped cook and serve food and aided the children with homework. As she continued her work with the Program, she discovered that the police were spreading rumors to parents saying the BPP was serving their children poisoned food. Bukhari then increased her political awareness and engagement with the Party. By 1970, she was a full-time Panther, establishing a Liberation School and working with mothers on welfare in her community.

The Free Breakfast Program was a partial catalyst for Bukhari’s career as a Black political organizer. Though sexist rhetoric and ideology were certainly present within the BPP and the Breakfast Program, the labor Bukhari and other women performed was still empowering, essential to liberating the Black community, and increased their engagement with radical Black politics. 

To say that the Breakfast Program only perpetuated gender roles and male chauvinism is to undermine the intensive labor the women performed — labor which they actively chose to do.  Without the work of female Panthers, many children may have remained hungry, and the BPP’s message may not have reached as many community members.

Introduction

Since the arrival of the first slave ship in 1619, Black people have been deeply connected to American land and agriculture. The African knowledge and culture of enslaved people allowed for growth and development on once uncultivated soil;¹ During Reconstruction (1863-1877) and the latter half of the 19th century, Black leaders believed that increased land ownership would lead to full independence and self-determination within the African-American community.² 

Black farmers, however, have always been exploited by legal structures and government institutions, greatly hindering their ability to own land and gain a substantial income from farming. In the late 19th to early 20th century, a majority of southern Black agrarians were sharecroppers. This legal system severely oppressed Black farmers, as they were immensely indebted to white landowners who continuously exploited them with forceful, demanding labor³

The 20th century saw a continuation of these patterns of oppression and exploitation. To prevent Black land ownership, physical violence towards African-Americans increased. Additionally, a lack of knowledge on finance and real estate in the Black community made it easy for land officials to exploit African-American farmers.⁴

One of the largest contributors to Black land loss in the 20th century was the United States Department of Agriculture (USDA). Under the New Deal, a series of organizations and legislation was created to end sharecropping and better support rural Americans. However, as the 20th century progressed, small farmers (both Black and white) became “outdated,” and large white-owned farms were prioritized.⁵ 

This disparity was especially pronounced after the Farm Security Administration (FSA — a branch of the USDA) created county committees responsible for allocating funds to local farmers.⁶ (The majority white) committee members actively discouraged Black farmers from applying for loans, and since fund distribution was locally centralized, there was no oversight or regulation from the federal government.⁷

Black farmers continuously call the USDA “the last plantation” due to a large amount of systemic discrimination they face from the department. In the past 100 years, the number of Black-owned farms has declined by 96% (from around 1,000,000 of all American farms to 35,000).⁸

Throughout the 20th century, numerous organizations were established to protect Black farmers and their land, including the Southern Federation of Cooperatives (1967) and the Land Loss Prevention Project (1982).⁹

Perhaps one of the most impactful, yet relatively unknown, Black agricultural resistance initiatives of the 20th century was The Freedom Farm Cooperative, founded by female political activist Fannie Lou Hamer. 

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Analysis

Fannie Lou Hamer 

Fannie Lou Hamer was born in 1917 in Ruleville, Mississippi.¹⁰ Her involvement with agriculture and food began from a young age. When she was six years old, playing outside on the unpaved streets in her neighborhood, a white man approached her and asked if she would like to pick cotton in exchange for goods at the local store.¹¹ From this moment on, she was trapped into working the fields of the Marlowe Plantation, eventually picking upwards of 300 pounds of cotton per day.¹²

To support their family, particularly in the winter months, Hamer’s mother would clean the homes of white families in direct exchange for milk, butter, and other foods. Once her mother died in 1961, Hamer vowed to work to change the power structure of the state. She said, “I’m determined that my children don’t have to suffer like I suffered and that these old people won’t have to suffer like my mother suffered.”¹³

Hamer began volunteering with the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) in August 1962. After attempting to register to vote at a nearby courthouse, she was shot at by vigilantes and fired from the Marlowe Plantation (where she worked for 18 years).¹⁴ These incidents only strengthened her political involvement; she worked with fellow activist Ella Baker during SNCC’s first statewide voter registration campaign in Mississippi, and was well-known for her public speaking skills.¹⁵

 

The Freedom Farm Cooperative

Sunflower County (which was 67% African-American at the time, according to the 1960 Census) suffered from high rates of type 2 diabetes, hypertension, and malnutrition. Furthermore, the state of Mississippi continuously stripped Black residents of access to social services and state assistance.¹⁶

There were a few efforts to solve the chronic hunger problem in Sunflower County, including a visit from Senate representatives who asked for more USDA food programs in the area.¹⁷ However, these efforts were shut down by Congressman Jamie Whitten, and US farm policy continued to marginalize and oppress minority farmers and the Black community at large.¹⁸

In response to the food insecurity and systemic oppression in her community, Hamer established the Freedom Farm Cooperative (FFC). In much of her political work with SNCC, Hamer emphasized the notion of self-sufficiency, focusing on improving access to healthcare and housing in the Black community.¹⁹ The FFC was yet another mode of achieving self-sufficiency, as she hoped the farm would provide safe housing, employment, agricultural knowledge, and sustainable and nutritious food sources.²⁰

Farm leaders were to be “black and local,” and membership was open to anyone who needed the farm’s services.²¹ Members set aside thirteen acres of community land for growing kale, corn, sweet potatoes, okra, and other greens. Cooperative families and other community members shared these crops, and in 1972, the garden served around 1,600 families.²²

Notably, the farm also had a pig bank (which supplied over 100 families with pigs by 1969), a catfish cooperative, 640 acres of housing developments, and initiatives encouraging members to vote and run for office.²³

In 1960, Mississippi had the lowest median household income in the nation. More specifically, Sunflower County had a median household income of $1790, making it the 55th lowest in the nation.²⁴ Thus, importantly, the FFC provided full- and part-time jobs for the residents of the county, paying each employee ten dollars an hour or with free housing and food.²⁵

Similar to the Black Panther Party’s Free Breakfast Program, all of the farm’s initiatives operated with the understanding that hunger is political and a means of oppression. Hamer’s work with SNCC was deeply intertwined with the Freedom Farm. She understood that starvation reduced the amount of Black people registering to vote, as finding food was a greater priority.²⁶ By fulfilling the basic needs of Sunflower County residents, Fannie Lou Hamer and the Freedom Farm created an increased sense of political awareness and collective resistance to systemic oppression.²⁷

Conclusion

The farm closed in 1976 after a lack of financial support and an inability to make mortgage payments. Despite its unfortunate downfall, the work of Fannie Lou Hamer and members of the Freedom Farm was highly impactful and essential to narratives on Black food justice. 

There is often a belief that rural America or agriculture is less “sophisticated” than urban areas and developments. However, when discussing the history of Black food justice, it is critical to look beyond the urban movements and deeply consider the work of activists in rural communities — particularly the Black women — as their contributions were just as important in ensuring the survival of the Black community. 

Introduction

Food justice movements of the 20th century – and the women who spearheaded them – continue to have a large impact on other Black food justice initiatives. Even before the turn of the century, other communities and organizations were taking inspiration from Black food activists; The Young Lords Organization, a Party committed to the self-determination and liberation of Puerto Ricans, was founded in the late 1960s after direct inspiration from the Black Panther Party.¹ Similar to the Panthers, the Young Lords established a variety of mutual aid initiatives including a free-breakfast program Here, Party members (particularly female members) could deeply engage with the surrounding community (mainly women and children).² 

Similarly, despite the US government making continuous efforts to shut down the BPP, the BPP’s breakfast programs in California pressured the Reagan administration to implement a free state breakfast program. Even further, the model of the BPP’s breakfast program is followed by all federal school breakfast programs in public schools today.³

In the 21st century, there are greater numbers of individuals engaging with food justice initiatives, particularly as the pandemic has amplified economic disparity and chronic food insecurity. Furthermore, with the rise of the Black Lives Matter movement in recent years, people are becoming more aware of the intersections between food justice and Black lives.

This section works to highlight BIPOC women involved in contemporary food justice movements and how their work relates to that of the BPP, Fannie Lou Hamer, and other 20th century events.

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Analysis

Leah Penniman and the Soul Fire Farm 

Leah Penniman is the co-founder and director of Soul Fire Farm, a community farm located in Petersburg, NY.⁴ Penniman and her husband lived on the South End of Albany —an area classified as a “food desert” — and struggled to find easily accessible fresh food for their family.⁵

However, Penniman and her partner had a wealth of farming experience between them, and after requests from neighbors for a community farm, they bought some land and established Soul Fire Farm in 2010. Membership is based on a pay-what-you-can scale, and once a week during the 20 weeks of the harvest season, members have fresh food delivered directly to their doorsteps.⁶ 

Soul Fire Farm has various initiatives to increase community engagement with agriculture and food systems. Three years after its founding, the farm began the Youth Food Justice Program. With this project, Albany youth could choose to complete on-farm training instead of juvenile sentencing.⁷ Young people have the opportunity to connect with their ancestors through the land, and Soul Fire Farm aims to end the school-to-prison pipeline that exists within the Black community.⁸ 

The farm also hosts “Ask a Sista Farmer,” a weekly Q and A session on Instagram Live where followers can ask Black female farmers questions about agriculture and gardening.⁹ This free programming allows for the farm to reach individuals outside of the local community and educate a broader audience on food justice and land usage. 

One of Soul Fire’s more recent initiatives was created during the peak of the pandemic. Furthering their engagement with communities outside of upstate New York, the farm began working with marginalized individuals in cities. They helped them plant gardens and made fresh food more accessible. Leah Penniman said the program ultimately was “for our neighbors to reclaim their food sovereignty in a time of extreme food scarcity.”¹⁰

Similar to the Freedom Farm Cooperative, Soul Fire Farm operates with the understanding that hunger has been used to oppress and marginalize BIPOC communities for centuries. Leah Penniman even lists Fannie Lou Hamer and other 20th-century food activists as inspirations for her work and the farm’s initiatives.¹¹

Community Fridge 120 

The pandemic also saw the creation of smaller mutual aid programs throughout American cities. Especially here in New York, free “community fridges” began to emerge in various neighborhoods around February 2020. The fridges reduce food waste by sourcing its contents from restaurants, supermarkets, and other local organizations that have excess (and still fresh) food. The fridges also work to reduce food insecurity in the surrounding communities, as anyone can take and share the ingredients when they need them.¹²

The refrigerators are often plugged into delis or residential buildings and since community fridges are mutual aid initiatives and there is no sole power policing them, neighbors hold each other accountable for maintaining and respecting the fridges.¹³ 

Community Fridge 120 (located on West 120th Street) was the second established community fridge in Manhattan. Chef Jazmin Johnson founded it during the peak of the pandemic, working to raise funds and eventually receiving a donated refrigerator.¹⁴ 

Before serving as Dalton’s Teaching Kitchen Coordinator, Johnson worked with Wellness in the Schools, a non-profit dedicated to promoting healthy and sustainable eating in NYC public schools. She specifically worked with children at a K-5 school in the Bronx, teaching them about introducing fresh foods into their diets and daily lives.¹⁵

Johnson views Community Fridge 120 as an extension of her work with Wellness in the Schools.¹⁶ The fridge not only provides accessibility to fresh food but also educates residents on how to incorporate healthy food into their lifestyles. 

With a current total of 153 in NYC, community fridges are becoming increasingly prevalent in conversations about solving food insecurity and hunger.¹⁷ While soup kitchens and pantries are large operations that provide food security, they often only distribute canned goods that lack nutritional value. Thus, these projects unintentionally contribute to poor health and do not address the systemic roots of food insecurity. Contrastingly, the fridges more effectively address the root causes of food insecurity by providing healthy food options and placing the means of production and distribution in the hands of historically marginalized people.¹⁸

Similar to the work of Fannie Lou Hamer and the Black Panthers, Johnson and the other volunteers with Community Fridge 120 do more than just provide their neighbors with food. They respond directly to the needs and wants of BIPOC, provide education and employment, and work to improve the overall health of their communities. These initiatives resist systemic oppression and chronic hunger in Black communities, making the work of the fridge deeply political. In the words of Jazmin Johnson, “For me personally, protesting is scary. But I know how to feed people… and how to empower people through food. That’s ultimately what my mission is.”¹⁹ 

Chef Gillian Clark

21st-century resistance and food activism also present themselves as the Black woman’s continued struggle against the mammy figure and other stereotypes. A notable example of this is with this work of Chef Gillian Clark, who has boldly reclaimed and refined Aunt Jemima. 

Marcia Chatelain argues that Black women’s cookbooks and culinary literature can provide humanizing perspectives about Black domestic labor.²⁰ She supports this point by referencing Clark’s memoir, Out of the Frying Pan: A Chef’s Memoir of Hot Kitchens, Single Motherhood, and the Family Meal (2007). In the book, Clark describes how she left her marketing job to begin working as a chef. She writes of how she loves the kitchen and views it as a place of comfort, contrasting how the kitchen was forced upon and “intolerable” for previous generations of Black women.²¹ 

Clark opened her first restaurant, Colorado Kitchen, in Washington, D.C. Of particular interest is the bold decor in the space, with images of Aunt Jemima and Mrs. Butterworth hung around the dining room and Aunt Jemima’s red bandana used as napkins.²² 

Some customers took deep offense to this — particularly Black patrons — and even refused to sit at tables with mammy photos and decor.²³ However, Clark stood by her design choices, arguing that reclaiming images of Aunt Jemima forces customers to grapple with the dark history of Black women’s domestic labor while understanding that, in contrast, they were currently being served by a multidimensional chef and Black woman.²⁴

While Clark’s work and restaurant garnered much criticism, her memoir further emphasizes that Black women have to continue resisting stereotypes as they perform labor they are passionate about. Reclaiming Aunt Jemima and the mammy stereotype in such a bold manner resists centuries of the Black woman’s identity being defined by someone else and allows for more emphasis on the empowering aspects of Black domestic labor.

Other Contemporary Food Justice Initiatives: 

Tubman House’s Fannie Lou Hamer – Sundiata Acoli Farm in Baltimore, Maryland 

The People’s Kitchen Collective in Oakland, California 

The Black Feminist Project’s Black Joy Farm and Community Food Program 

Despite their lack of coverage in the secondary literature about food justice, Black women had essential roles in devising and operating 20th-century food justice movements. Not only should we work to further include them in narratives about food justice and mutual aid, but also take note of and situate their work within the context of their unique history. 20th-century Black female food activists fought against both hunger in their communities and mammy stereotypes, which was a specific experience to them.

This fight continues in the 21st century, and during discussions about contemporary food justice and chronic food scarcity, Black women need to be centered. Not only are they disproportionately affected by systemic racism and hunger, but their ancestors have been at the center of solving food inequity in their communities. When thinking about implementing future food justice initiatives, we can turn to the work of Fannie Lou Hamer, female Black Panthers, and other farmers and activists to help guide us.