CSP600: A Groundwork Project Literature Review (Blog Essay #3)

My Groundwork Project centers around the idea of foodlore activism (the telling of food stories with the intent to create positive social change) as a tool for cultural sustainability work.  Much of the literature I have explored over the past weeks falls into three general categories: the relationship between folklore and activism, the use of food and foodways to tell stories, and the role of stories in movements for social change.

After brief excursions into history and anthropology, folklore has emerged as the most promising field in which to cultivate foodlore activism.  Mary Hufford’s “Working in the Cracks: Public Space, Ecological Crisis, and the Folklorist,” Debora Kodish’s “Envisioning Folklore Activism,” and some words of wisdom from City Lore’s Steve Zeitlin all support the shift of the folklorist’s role to that of an activist who calls attention to the everyday performances that give meaning to our lives, particularly when those performances are at risk of being lost or when they bring social issues to light.  Additionally, Bill Westerman’s article “Wild Grasses and New Arks: Transformative Potential in Applied and Public Folklore” provides a strong framework upon which to build my argument of foodlore as a transformative art.

Marcie Cohen Ferris offers a number of writings that model how food and foodways tell a collective cultural story; her article “Feeding the Jewish Soul in the Delta Diaspora” is particularly helpful.  Jane Zeigelman’s 97 Orchard: An Edible History of Five Immigrant Families in One New York Tenement is another great example of this. Lucy Long’s Culinary Tourism introduces a number of essays that address issues of identity, authenticity, and community, all through the medium of food.  There is an ever-increasing variety of quality foodlore-related literature, written from both historical and folkloristic perspectives, focusing on a myriad of cultures and places.

There is also a significant amount of writing on the use of stories in movements for social change.  The essays in Stories of Change: Narrative and Social Movements (edited by Joseph E. Davis) and in Telling Stories to Change the World: Global Voices on the Power of Narrative to Build Community and Make Social Justice Claims (edited by Rickie Solinger, Madeline Fox, and Kayhan Irani), as well as Francesca Polletta’s It Was Like a Fever: Storytelling in Protest and Politics all do an excellent job of emphasizing the potential of stories to inspire meaningful action for change.  Marshall Ganz echoes this in his heartfelt article “Why Stories Matter: The Art and Craft of Social Change.”

What is missing, however, is literature that addresses the very point at which foodlore and the act of storytelling with the intention of creating social change meet.    I have trouble believing I am the first person to write about this intersection, but I have yet to find any books or articles that speak to this focus.

I am so grateful to have been able to attend the Cultural Sustainability Symposium this past weekend in Craftsbury, Vermont.  The Symposium was a collaborative effort between the Goucher College MACS program, Sterling College, and the Vermont Folklife Center, and it brought together a brilliant crowd of folks (folklorists, ethnomusicologists, farmers, and more) who are all engaged in shaping this incredible field.  One of the most inspiring presentations at the Symposium was given by Rosann Kent, the Director of the Appalachian Studies Center at the University in North Georgia.  Rosann (who has an MA in Storytelling!) spoke about the SAGAS (Saving Appalachia’s Gardens and Stories) project at UNG, through which students combined oral history, seed banking, and quilting to save heirloom seeds, document stories, and strengthen the bonds of a place-based community.  I was stunned by how transformative this project is, and it is the first example I have come across that exemplifies foodlore activism.  SAGAS developed intergenerational and cross-cultural connections, emphasized the worth of traditional farming techniques and heirloom seed varieties, empowered longtime residents to tell their stories, established an organic garden and seed bank, and resulted in the creation of a beautiful community quilt as an art piece – all by working at the intersection of foodlore activism.  I will be using the SAGAS project as a case study in my Groundwork Project.

Any suggestions on sources that directly address foodlore activism are appreciated!

CSP600: Engaging with Theory and Frameworks of Cultural Sustainability (Blog Essay #1)

On the final day of our Introduction to Cultural Sustainability class, Amy and Tom asked us to reflect upon our time together and to write our own definitions of “cultural sustainability” on the board.  I wrote,

Cultural sustainability is participation in the dance that gives meaning to human existence.

One of the most critical concepts I learned during the residency is that cultural sustainability is at once a process, a product, and an undercurrent of intent.  As John Hawkes states in The Fourth Pillar of Sustainability, “culture is both the medium and the message – the inherent values and the means and results of social expression” (Hawkes 3).  A culture of sustainability embraces not only the dance itself, but also active participation in the dance, and the collective belief that both the dance and act of dancing shape our purpose in the world.

While the metaphorical dance can take many forms, I choose to focus on the intersection of food and stories as a locus for community-building and social change.  As a starting point, I will need to explore the relationship between the process, the product, and the undercurrent of intent in order to develop a clearer direction for my future work with food and stories.

“Food” embodies a number of processes: production, preparation, consumption.  Each of these processes is encoded in stories: Who grew or raised or manufactured the food, and how was it done?  Who prepared it to be eaten, and why did they prepare it this way?  Who eats the food, and what is the context in which it is eaten?  These processes are stories of interacting with the land, of working, of migrating, of celebrating.  Participating in these processes creates meaning and shapes our interactions with each other.  These processes align with what Debora Kodish calls “our individual authenticities – small acts of witnessing, experiencing, remembering, imagining – coalesce[ing] into a vernacular power that regenerates community” (Kodish 40).  To join in the harvesting of the garden, to fold dumpling wrappers around bits of filling, to sit down together over steaming bowls of soup on a snowy day – these are not only actions of community-building, but also of cultural sustainability.

Food and its accompanying narratives serve as products of these processes, as multisensory forms of cultural documentation.  A bowl of crawfish etouffee documents daily life on the bayous of Louisiana.  A plate of chicken tikka masala records the British colonization of India and the subsequent migration of Indian people to England.  A meager dish of rice is proof of struggle against the elements in a small Ecuadorian village.  A chocolate-chip cookie, soft and sweet and still warm from the oven, captures the love and care of a grandmother’s kitchen.  Every dish, and the stories that belong to it, is an attempt to define a place, a relationship, an identity, a moment in time – is an attempt to sustain that flicker of meaning.

Finally, food and stories provide a tangible pipeline for the undercurrent of intent required to sustain a culture.  Everyone eats; everyone has (and tells) stories.  Robert Cantwell argues that we must, “having acknowledged the constituted or invented character of folklore, embrace its invented and collaborative character freely and openly, lending ourselves to it not only as brokers or agents but, in effect, as creators and shapers of a human manifestation in which we are already deeply implicated” (Cantwell 66).  Cantwell points out that we, as human beings, are folklore, that our existence and actions shape our world; to create change, we need only approach our folklore with the right intent.  So too do our practices of eating, our acts of storytelling, shape our culture simply by our participation.  We need only intend to produce, prepare, and consume food in a way that breathes meaning into our lives, need only make the decision that this will be enough to help us figure out that indefinable thing we are trying to sustain.

The mission of cultural sustainability is illustrated by what Mary Hufford describes as “scavenging in a wide range of preserves to make room for realities spoken, sung, danced, cooked, hunted, sewn, cultivated, and built around the cracks” (Hufford 166).  These realities are the dance that gives meaning to human existence.  Collecting basil from the windowbox, kneading bread, laughing around the dinner table: these are the places where transformation and sustainability hover in perfect balance, ready for us to taste.

Works Cited:

Cantwell, Robert.  2001.  “Folklore’s Pathetic Fallacy.”  The Journal of American Folklore 114 (451):  56-67.  Accessed April 29, 2012.

Hawkes, Jon.  2001.  The Fourth Pillar of Sustainability: Culture’s Essential Role in Public Planning.  Melbourne: Common Ground.

Hufford, Mary.  1999.  “Working in the Cracks: Public Space, Ecological Crisis, and the Folklorist.”  Journal of Folklore Research 36 (2/3): 157-167.  Accessed April 29, 2012.

Kodish, Debora.  2011.  “Envisioning Folklore Activism.”  Journal of American Folklore 124 (491): 31-60.

CSP600: Public Folklore weblinks

Public folklore organizations come in all shapes and sizes, and while they are all undoubtedly committed to their various missions, each engages with the concept of cultural sustainability in a unique way.  Below, I have described three examples of public folklore organizations: a national institution, a university-run center, and a grassroots nonprofit, and considered how they fit into the cultural sustainability landscape.

Smithsonian Center for Folklife and Cultural Heritage (Washington, DC)

http://www.folklife.si.edu/

I am very lucky to live so close to one of the most distinguished public folklore resources in the world.  The Smithsonian Center for Folklife and Cultural Heritage conducts ethnographic research, creates documentary films, designs educational materials, hosts exhibitions and conferences, maintains folklife archives, and produces the annual Smithsonian Folklife Festival (which I attend every year).  The Center appears to define folklore as “traditional knowledge and artistry,” and they actively seek to engage with “diverse, contemporary grassroots cultures in the United States and around the world.”  The Center not only offers internships and volunteer opportunities for aspiring folklorists and documentarians, but also opens their archives to the public (by appointment only, however).  As part of the Smithsonian, the Center for Folklife and Cultural Heritage is federally funded and also receives foundation grants, donations from corporations and individuals, and income from the Folklife Festival and product sales.

Does the Smithsonian Center for Folklife and Cultural Heritage support cultural sustainability?  Absolutely.  This magnificent resource is a powerful force when it comes to raising awareness of folk cultures and heritage conservation.   The Center holds an influential position at the cultural policy table, and can be a powerful mediator between folklife and the forces of globalization. Additionally, the interest of the Smithsonian seems to validate and legitimize cultural sustainability work in the eyes of both the government and certain sectors of the American and global populations.

For all its dazzling exhibitions and incredible work, however, the Smithsonian Center for Folklife and Cultural Heritage is still an institution. Because of its financial relationship to the government and its place in the national dialogue on cultural issues, the Center likely has to consider the political implications of where it chooses to focus its energy very carefully.  It is part of a wealthy top-down organization and, as such, is definitively separate from the grassroots populations it works so hard to support and sustain.

Maine Folklife Center (Orono, ME)

http://umaine.edu/folklife/

The Maine Folklife Center, which was established over 50 years ago at the University of Maine, strives to document and teach the rich history of Maine and the Maritime Provinces.  The Center’s areas of focus include folk arts, Native American culture, labor (fishing, logging, milling), and tourism.  The Maine Folklife Center embraces the American Folklife Center’s definition of folklife as “the everyday and intimate creativity that all of us share and pass on to the next generation.”  In addition to ongoing cultural research and documentation, the Center houses the Northeast Archives of Folklore and Oral History, produces a Digital Commons on its website, offers University courses, participates in the American Folk Festival in Bangor, and is a partner in the Penobscot Language Dictionary project.  The Maine Folklife Center is funded through the University of Maine and also receives donations, partners with institutions such as the Library of Congress for particular projects, and earns revenue from the sale of published materials.

Maine is a fascinating place to document and study.  It is an economically struggling state with a relatively small population and few cities of size.  It is also the site of a rich history shaped by the relationship between the people and the natural environment, and home to an increasing number of immigrants from other countries.  I understand the appeal of exploring its folk culture, especially because Maine has a special place in my heart – I attended and worked at a summer camp on Lake Sebago for ten years, and the land there is sacred to me.  From the pristine air of Acadia National Park to the weather-beaten boardwalk of Old Orchard Beach, from the pine tree-covered slopes of the mountains to the narrow streets of Portland’s Old Town, my own stories are entangled with those of the northeastern-most state.

While the Maine Folklife Center seems to do an excellent job of documenting and exhibiting the state’s folk cultures, it appears that the organization is mostly focused on preservation.  Does the Center make a point of engaging in the (pro)active, creative side of sustainability work as well?  Are any projects initiated or led directly by members of the communities and cultures the Center is trying to support? I would be interested to find out more about how the Center moves beyond preservation efforts and involves the larger community in the dynamic process of truly sustaining folkways.  I’m also curious to learn if the Maine Folklife Center has done any research about the tensions between “traditional” Maine folklife and the culture of recent immigrants to the state.  This could be an interesting case study.

City Lore (New York, NY)

http://citylore.org/

City Lore, founded in 1986, is a phenomenal organization that celebrates the beautiful mess of New York’s stories.  As their mission statement explains, “We document, present, and advocate for New York City’s grassroots cultures to ensure their living legacy in stories and histories, places and traditions.  We work in four cultural domains:  urban folklore and history; preservation; arts education; and grassroots poetry traditions. In each of these realms, we see ourselves as furthering cultural equity and modeling a better world with projects as dynamic and diverse as New York City itself.”

City Lore is a multi-sited, multi-media effort that includes oral history and image archives, virtual exhibitions, local advocacy and activism, a documentary training institute, school and out-of-school-time programs for youth, and incredibly creative poetry projects.  The organization receives funding through numerous foundations and individual donations, as well as some local, state, and national funding.

One of the many reasons I love City Lore is their Endangered Poetry Initiative, a unique and brilliant program that endeavors to document poetry in endangered languages in order to keep this critical form of human expression alive.  “Khonsay: Poem of Many Tongues,” an Endangered Poetry Initiative project led by Bob Holman, was featured at the 2013 Smithsonian Folklife Festival’s “One World, Many Voices” exhibit.  I had the opportunity to meet Holman at the Festival last month, and he explained to me the lengthy process he undertook to produce this piece as a collaboration of poets around the world.  Check out “Khonsay” here: http://citylore.org/grassroots-poetry/endangered-poetry-initiative/khonsay/.

City Lore is a dynamic organization that approaches cultural sustainability work in a myriad of creative ways.  The culture of City Lore is inclusive, community-centered, and collaborative.  The organization is explicitly committed to diversity and activism.  Part of City Lore’s power lies in its existence as a grassroots organization that is shaped by its direct, two-way engagement with New York’s people.  Every city should have a City Lore – this organization is both the process and product of cultural sustainability in action.

(Oh, City Lore. How I hope to be on your staff someday.)

As students of cultural sustainability, my classmates and I will inevitably encounter public folklore organizations in the course of our studies and work.  Which type of organization has the greatest positive impact in the field of cultural sustainability?  Obviously, it depends on who you ask and how they choose to measure that impact.  Each organization fills a particular niche in this increasingly important field.

Get Cantwell?

The newest class of Goucher College’s Master of Arts in Cultural Sustainability program does.  (And someday we’ll have the t-shirts to prove it.)

Yes, grad school has begun.

I just spent July 24-August 4 in Baltimore for the Fall 2013 MACS residency, which gave a new meaning to the word “intensity.”  In addition to eight jam-packed hours of class a day (Introduction to Cultural Sustainability in the mornings and Introduction to Cultural Documentation in the afternoons), plus helpful advising sessions, confusing technology trainings, fascinating field trips, inspiring special presentations, and great social events, there were countless stories and plenty of laughter, late-night conversations about everything under the sun (moon?), and some of the loveliest people I’ve stumbled across in a while.

(I even got my copy of Conserving Culture autographed by Mary Hufford!  My friends only laughed at me a little bit.)

While this blog is a requirement for Introduction to Cultural Sustainability, I also intend to use this space to document my wanderings and wonderings over the next few years in the MACS program.  I’ve never blogged before and I’m apprehensive about sharing things on the internet (and about social media in general), so we’ll see how it goes.  (If I make it past the one-month mark, we’ll have a party.)

On the last day of Intro class, we created a Wordle (oh, technology!) from our collective definitions of “cultural sustainability”:

Excellent, yes?

I think Cantwell would agree.

Start.

Exactly one year ago, I stuffed a last bite of warm pain au chocolat into my mouth, hoisted my too-heavy backpack onto my shoulders, and set off down the Camino de Santiago with no idea of what might lie ahead.

And so today, we begin.