Oluwasefunmi Oluwafemi ’25
To: Family and Friends
I hope this letter finds you well. Many of us went through a whirlwind of emotions during the trip—from our landing with The Black Church Food Security Network to our lobbying on Capitol Hill with Bread for America, and all the way to our final moments in our Airbnb, where we spent most of our time in community with each other. In these moments, we felt hope, powerlessness, and restoration.
On Thursday, March 13, 2025, the cohort traversed through Baltimore again—visiting our folks at the Baltimore City Office of Food Policy and Planning and the Beth Am Synagogue. In our first venture, we were educated about how Baltimore City’s Food Policy and Planning team works together to provide more accessible ways to integrate SNAP benefits across farmers’ markets, grocery stores, and online markets. This discussion was extremely inspiring for me as a Baltimore City resident, as much of my childhood meals were funded by government assistance. To see the emphasis of this work centered not only on making benefits more accessible through projects like B-More Fresh and Food is Medicine, but also on nutrition education and community involvement, truly touched my heart.
Taylor LaFave called ARF a “once-in-a-generation investment,” where $11 million are being allocated for initiatives to better invest in Baltimore residents’ nutrition. In the midst of this presentation, I had so many questions for the team and am extremely grateful for their willingness to engage in conversation with myself, the FFJ instructors, Shae McCoy, and the student advocates in our midst. My primary questions included:
– What are the means of outreach for the most vulnerable populations experiencing food apartheid? This would include children in public schools, elderly adults, and disabled folks in our respective communities—including higher education students such as college students.
– How can I be more involved?
At the synagogue, we met with Rabbi Burg, whose passion for community engagement and service was made evident in his discussion with us. He took us on a tour of the space and talked a lot about the history of Jewish people in and out of the United States. We left and had a beautiful cumulative conversation to round off the trip.
In our final discussion, we revisited the core questions of FFJ: Why in the 21st century are people in America still faced with food insecurity? How are people/communities responding? Where do we fit? We answered the first two questions before folks went out to celebrate Purim at Beth Am Synagogue, by invitation of Rabbi Burg. In the discussion of these questions, I could see the transformation right before my eyes—of students’ perspectives on what food insecurity looks like in the city. As people began to share their responses, others were challenged by the spaces we found ourselves in during this week’s venture.
My one and only hope for this trip was to teach and learn—to teach from my experiences as a Baltimore City resident and learn from the ways in which people’s perspectives of this class and the matter of food insecurity have changed, shaping their worldview of food, faith, and justice in America.
Most of our cohort attended the Beth Am Synagogue’s Purim celebration, filled with joy, levity, and strong political sentiment. We planned to commune after the celebration—and did just that. Before expressing and writing gratitude letters for each other and our friends in Baltimore and D.C., we concluded our discussion with the third question—“Where do we fit in?”
In our previous discussion that night, there were unspoken sentiments that left patches of hopelessness and feelings of powerlessness in the hearts of students, but this conversation truly established us greater in the start of something new. We continued our discussion with my input. I mentioned the impact that the Food Strategy and Planning visit left on me. For me to be a beneficiary of food stamps and be unaware of the means of making the program more accessible—or the gaps in understanding from residents, which I can help fill through my connections in the city—I was met with great hope that I can truly make a change in my city and be an active participant in the progress toward a healthier Baltimore.
Jazmin, shared a similar sentiment—stating how she has begun to draw similar lines to her upbringing in California. Jaiden, a Political Science and Economics student, left me wondering with his contributions to this discussion. He mentioned that we fit in by being contributors to policy. His passion for government really did show itself in his contribution. Another student, Keeler, demonstrated great resilience in his contribution. He discussed his impact as an engineer. This experience was transformative for him, and he believes he can make a difference with this new perspective on justice and how it is being addressed by various professionals. His contribution left me wondering: how can we train more well-rounded and competent physicians, teachers, mechanics—anyone working—to carry similar experiences like this? Maybe it’s possible. But it takes much more from the beneficiaries of experiences such as this class. The need to continue this stream of consciousness by educating ourselves and others is extremely vital. We are well aware of the means of education in America and have so much lacked formal teachings due to the abandonment of what it means to carry community value.
I was especially drawn in by Virginia’s contribution—emphasizing that experiences like this course must be sustained to continue expanding education and igniting understanding in those who have not yet received this light of awareness. And then there was Rose. In every one of our discussions, I found myself taking note of her words, quoting her as if I were writing her autobiography. In our initial discussion that night, she echoed a sentiment shared by another student—feeling, in a way, powerless after our work on Capitol Hill, with the weight of knowing the disparities that minoritized groups face both within and beyond this country. When addressing the final question, “Where do we fit in?” Rose responded, “I did not see where I fit in before—I think I can make a change now.” That moment felt overwhelmingly full-circle, one that overlapped with the work and presence of our community partners—Reverend Dr. Heber Brown III, Reverend Dr. Alvin Hathaway, Terris King, Shae McCoy, Rabbi Burg, our friends at Baltimore City Food Policy & Planning, and others.
Rose’s words brought me back to our first day at New Creation Christian Center in Baltimore, where we were welcomed by a community garden with six garden beds, neglected and waiting for a seasonal turnover, alongside a hoop house in need of cleaning and organization. At first glance, the space felt desolate. But as we worked to restore the beds and clean the hoop house, we began imagining ways to revive the space—inviting children to paint the borders of the garden beds, planning composting demonstrations inside the hoop house, and even brainstorming names for the community garden. What initially felt like a space of abandonment transformed into one of promise. That transformation carried a theme that echoed throughout the week: resilient optimism. Despite everything we were met with, it became clear that a persistent hope bore more fruit than any lingering feeling of insufficiency.
We then went into a time of gratitude for our partners—acknowledging the great impact of their community work and later shared deep appreciation for each other—noting the joy that sustained us in community and the love which kept us motivated to engage in every space we entered. Again, this was a time to show appreciation for each other’s contributions and see ourselves as the means for filling the gaps we have found in our respective courses of study or communities.This culminating conversation left me thinking: Inequity = Opportunity.
Thank you all so much for your passion, resilience, and love that draws us all together. This experience has marked the start of something new…
With much love,
Oluwasefunmi Oluwafemi
