Crops of the African Diaspora

8th graders at Martin Luther King Jr. Middle School in Berkeley, CA got the opportunity to explore many crops cultivated by Africans and people in the African Diaspora. From the history of the crops to aspects of the cultural significance, 8th grade students also got to taste a few such as hibiscus tea sweetened with honey in the garden along with black eyed peas and braising greens (in this case collard greens) in the kitchen. It was special for me because I was able to share parts of my heritage and allow space for students, who were unfamiliar with Black American and African culture, to learn.

When learning about topics or subjects that you aren't deeply familiar with or connected  with, it can be a little daunting or make you feel a little apprehensive. In our case it was the unfortunate journey for the millions of enslaved Africans. The way we approached it was through the art of storytelling. It allowed for a space of compassionate learning. To bring that compassion even more to the front we completed a story telling writing assignment in which students got to share their own Food Memories. A Food Memory is a strong remembrance of an event or moment in time where food was consumed. We all have Food Memories to share and, to me, they are another important part of the human experience. It's how we pass down knowledge within cultures, from generation to generation, and for our own familial lives.

The students wrote these Food Memories to share out and they were encouraged to not only write  using vivid language but also to express  memories from the myriad of emotions we all face. Some stories were full of positivity from the food, the atmosphere, and the people. Others were more complex with the food being a great experience to an overall bad day, or the food being the catalyst for a memory for a loved one that has passed away. Whatever the reason, students really dug deep to share these stories. Middle school can be a place of great discovery but it can also be a place of great shame and fear of sharing your true self, so I am very proud of each and every student who allowed themselves to share these experiences with others. This will go down as one of my all time favorite lessons. 

Now without further ado, here are a few of the Food Memories that were shared from our 8th graders - these stories come from students from many backgrounds, but will be shared anonymously meaning personal information such as names and specific details  have been taken out.
 

FOOD MEMORIES 

This recent Chinese New Year, I was with my family (Mom and Dad). We all sat down and made potstickers by hand, my dad filled the wrappers, my mom crimps the filled wrappers, and I made the wrappers by pressing the dough ball with a tortilla press. Before that, me and my mom had made the dough by mixing the dry ingredients with hot water little by little, kneading steadily. 

After making a bunch, my mom cooked them up, with boiling water, the sizzling sound lighting up the room. We ate them with dipping sauce and a mushroom and bamboo soup. We've done this in the past, but this time the bottoms of the potstickers were crispy brown, one of the best dinners of my life. The chewiness of the wrappers and the fullness of the filling still lives in my mouth.

After getting a vanilla ice cream from Habit, my father and I set off to see my grandmother at her assisted living home. As usual, she was very excited to see us and ready to have her desert! She was sitting at a round table in the back of the family dining room with a man across from her. Once I handed her the ice cream, she surprisingly asked the elder man if he wanted a lick. He nodded and took the ice cream. He ate it all, except for the clump that landed on his shirt. We were shocked and bursted out in laughter. That was the last time I saw her. 

One of my core food memories is making Latkes, Matzo ball soup and sufganiyot (jelly donuts) with family. One year we decided to spend the first few nights of Hanukkah all together. My aunts, uncles, and cousins filled up our weird ladybug infested rental and on the first night of Hanukkah we spent the whole day cooking. Oniony smells filled the house soon after I woke up, and when I ran into the kitchen my dad was already cooking. Throughout the long day, I learned how to not cut my fingers off when chopping potatoes, what chicken stock was, and most importantly that if you work really hard to cook a delicious, elaborate meal it tastes even more delicious.

My family and I have a weekly tradition. Every Friday we make pizza and watch a movie together. It's our way of saying goodbye to the week and spending time together. Even if we spend less time together now, we still have this thing we always do together. 

My parents started it when they lived in Switzerland. It cost way too much to buy pizza, so they started making them, and they brought the tradition here. It's given me an opportunity to experiment with foods and figure out what I like. I also got more skilled at making pizza (I can spin the dough) :)

I don't know if you can call it a food. But on those hot spring days during  covid me and my little brother would play in the backyard and we would make sourgrass "soup". I was around 8 and my brother was 5. We would pretend to "survive" on sourgrass soup as we lived on our trampoline. It wasn't really anything besides handfuls and handfuls of sourgrass and water from our garden hose, and it didn't really taste good. But the imagination that came with it was enough. We would also bring our blankets and pillows, pretending to sleep while we hid from the "monsters" on that trampoline.