Recently, I embarked upon a new mission to live awake. That is, to engage in ongoing education (of myself, and then hopefully, for my students) regarding issues in our economy, society and environment. "Sustainability" is the term our world has adopted to coin the trend to improve each of these vital sectors. For each of these systems suffer; not only among my own community in Chicago, but globally as well.
Phrases like "sustainability" and "going green" might unfortunately be apt to serve as reasons for turned heads against these enterprises. I know that, because in the past, these were the exact types of terms I would hear about in social circles, or catch a faint glimpse of in the occasional article, but also never paid much mind to follow up on. This could be due to my (albeit ever maturing) rebellious nature, and a desire to ignore all things media grabbing and seemingly complicated in nature. But I also attribute my ambivalence to just that: the sheer complication of what these issues entail on a community member level.
Going green, as far as I could recently understand, meant paying more mind to recycling, incorporating more LED lights into the household, being mindful toward the amount of energy and water we use at home and a cornucopia of very high-tech, scientific practices that someone on an aspiring freelance writer/part time college teacher's salary could never partake in. Like I own property, or if I did, would I have money to implement a green roof? If only.
But then, several weeks ago, my boyfriend Ian and I visited Nationwide video in Lakeview, for purposes of turning up a new title that might (if we were lucky) assuage our household entertainment thirsts for the evening. We found a couple of winners (the names of which elude me, so maybe they weren't superior winners), and I was pleased. It's always disheartening to leave the video store empty handed, if only because it reminds your cultural craving that a lot of crap film is produced in this world. That or the video store carries a limited selection. Or I simply see more movies than I probably should, as I don't much care for repeat viewings.
But before I checked out, for whatever reason, Food Inc. popped into my mind (it wasn't among the pair we'd selected), and I asked the clerk if the store carried it. The dark-haired, bespectacled and jovial sir looked it up and said they did. Always the compliment to my methods, Ian then graciously retrieved the small tab from where the film lived on the shelves of the section "Documentary/TV Shows" (to signal to future customers the film had been rented). I signed the slip that states I promise to return the selections, we three said our thank yous, exchanged smiles, and Ian and me were homeward bound.
What fun! I thought, as we walked north to the Ravenswood area. I had wanted to see the much talked about film since I attended Michael Pollan's lecture at the Harold Washington Library some years ago (the film is closely correlated with Pollan's work explored through his book, The Omnivore's Dilemma). But little did I know what was in store for me; or that the film would ultimately change my world view. I began to notice this change almost immediately when we arrived home and fired up the DVD. Over the next days, I would observe the change ever more each day as I digested more literature on the subjects explored through the film.
The film, for those who aren't familiar, approaches topics of the U.S. food industry. It delves into the simple, yet not so comfortable question to face: Where the heck does our food really come from? The answers are far less than glamorous. And yet, when you get right down to it, though it can initially be disheartening to learn about the perils of our food economy: that we mistreat animals to produce meat on a mass scale to name one, there is something inherently satisfying about knowing how food A gets from point X to point Y (where Y in this case equals my plate). This film, I would come to find, would set in a motion a quest for me to consider "the truth" behind our food.
Note to the reader: I understand that "truth" is an interpretive concept. Of course I took this material at face value. But believe me when I say that "Food Inc." makes a very compelling argument about the to and fro of American grub.
And so what about all that exactly happened to me--in my mind, and to my senses--in those initial moments of watching the film? It was like my soul was craving a message, and this message was the one to latch upon: Stare your food in the face. Really peer into how our food is processed before reaching our naive little plates.
I don't know about you: I'd rather be disgusted and informed, as opposed to oblivious and not disgusted. That's just me. Awareness is the most beautiful gift in life, even if it can be tough to embrace at first glance.
And more on this upcoming ... In the meantime: Watch Food Inc., and stay informed about what you put in your mouth.
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