You know, I didn't set out to bash Monsanto or the other Big Ag offenders. I really just stumbled into all this because we discovered heirloom tomatoes, and a crazy farmer who supplies produce to the best restaurants in town. At least we thought he was crazy. Especially when he tells the story about the goat with the giant ... never mind. All his ramblings about fertilizers and WWII and Nazis, about government and organic certification being a crock were a bit odd, I thought.
And then I changed.
Then I got involved in the Eat Local Challenge. I was writing about food, but there were so many issues. As I looked deeper into real food, I found myself taking a hard look at some truths about the health of our food supply and our environment. I started researching issues, checking different sources. The same names kept coming up in the "bad guy" column. Over and over. My food got all tangled up in politics.
It always was, I was just to busy to care. I needed to change.
The lies, the manipulation, the unethical and the shocking. All centered on our food. Our sustenance. Our health. All with a blatant disregard for our safety and our environment. By the people that make our food and the people who make our laws.
And nothing changes.
People have died. A friend who used to work with me just had a liver transplant as a result of E. coli contamination. Two kids under the age of five, siblings in a family we know, have matching dialysis scars from a bout with E. coli. Can you imagine the weeks their parents spent at the hospital with both of their children in critical condition? I saw the look in their eyes, living in hell with a parent's worst fear. Thank God the kids made it.
And nothing changes.
Kids at school lunch have been served potentially dangerous meat — and a company that knew the meat could be dangerous and knew it would be fed to children, but opted to just make a few extra bucks, 'cause who's gonna know and hey, the other guys are doing it too, why shouldn't we? And then we, the people, DID find out, and we do know.
But nothing changes, not quickly enough, perhaps not ever.
My spouse says, when I am venting and ranting, "Where's the outrage?" Even though, he lives with me and sees me wrestle with it every day. He means in general, by "normal" people. Not me. He's right, there is not nearly enough honest, activist outrage these days. It's our food, people, it's our food.
Something must change.
Or, maybe, I'm just crazy. Or a bit tired. Or both.
This was selected for a March Just Post.