Real Change

I didn't go the the big rally on the Mall for Darfur today, not because I wasn't supportive of the cause, but because I had to work. I run a market that specializes in fine foods, mostly imports, but also some small local producers. Weekends are the busiest times for my business, so there aren't many that I don't work. Since no one really wants to work on Sunday, I am usually short staffed, and I found myself having to run a cash register. I was scanning some pricey items for a young couple, really expensive wine, some Chilean Bass, some great looking hydroponic tomatoes, and when I totalled the purchase, it came to $182.89. As the young woman swiped her Amex card, I turned to begin putting the purchases in bags, and I noticed that the young man was wearing a button that said: "Ask Me About Darfur." They had obviously just come from the rally, and as they discussed what they were going to have for dinner, I felt a moment's shame and thought that maybe even most of us well-meaning liberals don't get it, and if we don't get it, then how do we expect to change the priorities of our foriegn policy?

Just this past week, I've watched Americans screaming about paying over $3 dollars a gallon to fill up their tanks, but I haven't heard any screams for better public transportaion. And that's because Americans don't want to take the bus, they don't want to sit next to that poor person who hasn't showered today, they don't really want to sit on the same seat as that person who hasn't showered unless they can spray some kind of anti-bacterial product on it first. Americans want to go on driving luxury cars and buying expensive homes on four acres somewhere really far from the rest of us who take the Metro and smell funny. They expect George Bush to pull a couple of oil wells out of his ass and produce enough petrol to keep our SUVs running forever.

What troubles me greatly is that we are willing to send our soldiers to a country that is rich in oil to change the regime to one that is more friendly to America, but we are not willing to ask our soldiers to protect helpless people from genocide.

We don't get it. Washington doesn't get it.

And me personally, I sell fabulous food to rich people, many who make the decisions about our foreign policy priorities. And even though food is my passion, it's been my career for twenty-five years, I feel as if I might kiss my soul good-bye if I sell one more tin of caviar to one more American who has never known a moment's hunger or been threatened with extinction. To me it doesn't seem right to sell great food to people who are already so well-fed that it wouldn't even matter if they skipped dinner. I need a new gig, one that is moral and just, because selling fish eggs to fat people when people starve in Africa makes me feel feel like a food whore for the rich.

I can't change the world, but maybe I can change a small part of it, and maybe we all can get by on a little less oil, ride the bus, volunteer at a soup kitchen, or show a little generosity to those who have less. Buttons and bumper stickers don't feed starving kids, and there are hungry kids in your neighborhood. Maybe if we all stop whining about how much it costs to put gas in the Dodge Caravan, and start thinking about those who don't get enough calories every day to walk to the soup kitchen, we'll realize that we have it pretty good.

| +Save/Share | |