I am what I eat

In our workshops with community members and rehearsals with NEW ART dancers we've been gathering poetry about food and identity. Below are a few samples:


I am what I eat. I am curiosity.
I am spicy and watery.
The taste of the soil still clinging to a shape
I am the garden, the farm, the sunset
I am the crunchy texture
The sting on the tongue.

-Katie Rutterer, NEW ARTiculations


I am what I eat. I am part of the Berard family. I am the big orange shop. I am what I eat. I am boiled crawfish, corn and potatoes. I am what I eat. I am too much pepper that burns within the pores of my fingers. I am music, laughter, family, excitement. I am hot muggy Coteau Holmes, with kids everywhere. I am what I eat I am Paw Paw, Gan Gan, Mamma and Daddy. I am newspaper covered tables, cans of beer and dancing.

-April Douet, NEW ARTiculations


I am what I eat
I am sloshing around, a bear in the lake reaching for blueberry bushes
I am little glass canning jars all lined up, empty
I am perspiration to the extreme
I am a jersey peach too big for my mouth
too big for my body
I am what I eat
I am sticky with fuzzy skin like fur
I am pure enjoyment

-Kitty Ufford-Chase, Community Food Bank


I am Passover celebration stuffed with simple exodus
I am what I eat I am sexy velvety basil in Gianni’s bright Tuscan kitchen
I am what I eat
I am homey chicken soup
I am passion with mineral goodness
I am the basket filled with deep green
I am Raoul’s farm
Friend, rich with nourishment

-Dana Hefler, Community Food Bank


I am what I eat. I am fleshy hills of squash. I am firm and soft. I am energy. I am tradition revitalized. I am basic. I am versatile patches. I am sweet and juicy, slimy and chewy. I am rainbow—red, orange, yellow, green and blue. I am in a pot with soil. I am in a pot on the stove. I am a potluck. I am family and friends satiated with love.

-Bryn Jones, Native Seeds/SEARCH


I am my favorite holiday
I am laughter and snow outside
I am what I eat. I am mom, dad, tordie, Mona, Grandma, Gramma & Grandpa
I am the blue house dining room and the ceramic dish with blue metallic marbling
I am what I eat. I am Uncle Don and Aunty Na, Quin, and Keith
I am connected
I am laughter
I am the phone being passed around the room for the missing person
I am missing home.

-Janine Holton, NEW ARTiculations


I am what I eat
I am a burro from the barrio
The barrio where mi mama was raised
made with homemade tortillas
I am what I eat

-Victor, City High School (gardening class)


I am what I eat
I am my family's cooking
I am the banana leaf and twine
that wraps the dong like a present.
I am what I eat
When I eat my aunt's cooking
I am
happy
surprised
hungry
I am what I eat.

-Carrie Soohoo, City High School (gardening class)


I am what I eat
I am the apple on the tree
I am the sun that ripens me
I am the girl who picked the fruit
I am the one who cherished each bite
I am the apple inside of me

-Lydia Davis, City High School (gardening class)


I am dusty, spiny, rocky slopes
I am parched arroyos with hidden moist sand
I am fuschia coyote poop
I am sugary, bloody nectar
I am grainy liquid on a hot black square
I am crispy, round, satiated

-Amy Schwemm


I am what I eat
I am a wild creamy Santa Cruz blueberry
I am a tart kitchen
I am a happy Gloucester amazake
I am a childhood bursting with almonds
I am sweet summertime
I am satisfying purple juice
I am a cold chunky family
I am me

-Julie Ray


I am what I eat
I am red and white
I am sweet and crunchy
I am happy
I am what I eat

-Abdikadir, age 7 (Somalia)


I am what I eat
I am spaghetti
I am hot
I am wiggly
I am what I eat
I am an apple
I am from Somalia

-Gamara, age 9


I am what I eat
I am hot
I am excited
I am an island
I am what I eat
I am home
I am brown, hard, full of juice
I am Madagascar
I am adopted.

-Cannelle, age 9 (Madagascar)


I am what I eat. I am strong, I am essential. I am my dad. I am what I eat. I am a craving, a burst of flavor. I am my mom. I am what I eat. I am longing, I am guilty. I am what I eat. I am energetic, satisfied I am me.


I am what I eat
Mama Maria’s kitchen warm
I am what I eat
Happy, sad, hopeful
I am what I eat.
Yellow kitchen, warm food, garlic, chili
I am what I eat
The sound of rock against rock in her molcajete
I am what I eat
Tortillas being kneaded and rolled out on the table,
Rolling, thumping, stretching



Every year I wait to eat
In Santa Rosa we meet

Just so I can have just one
I could eat a whole tone

The meat inside of it
there isn't just a little bit

All of us sit and wait
anxious like your first date

They're so good
I'd make them myself if I could

The masa so nice
we also have it with rice

Just gotta wait another year...

-Gabriella Enos, City High School (gardening class)