We are in this together: Thoughts from our Board Chair

In her opening remarks at FoodShare’s 2024 Annual General Meeting board chair Germaine Catchpole offered insightful, honest reflections on the year gone and the heavy heartedness that she experiences as an Indigenous person advocating for a fair food system. 

We wanted to share her wise words with our broader community as they serve to remind all of us that the work of food justice is urgent and necessary but that it must be done with care and connectedness.

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Germaine ndizhinakaaz, Obishikokaang nindonjibaa, atik ndodem. My name is Germaine, I am from Lac Seul First Nation and a member of the Caribou clan.

Reflecting on my second year on the board and first as Chair, for me,  means acknowledging how necessary I believe FoodShare’s work to be and how much the context behind that necessity hurts my heart.  It’s been a little over 40 years since the first food bank opened in Canada and yet food insecurity continues to rise along with the cost of housing and just about everything else. And we know it’s people in our communities– those of us who are Indigenous and Black and other People of Colour– who are likeliest to face food insecurity. We didn’t need studies and reports to tell us. We know. I don’t know about all of you but I’ve been the kind of person who doesn’t always acknowledge that part of myself. For me, it’s that deep knowing that also comes with being Indigenous, being deeply impacted by colonialism and the Indian residential school system. My Dad survived residential school. A lot of us have been taught to diminish many parts of ourselves. That part that knows. 

That’s why I joined the Board of Directors at FoodShare. Because I saw an organization that was valuing the expertise of people like me. Those of us who know very well that the same communities who are so often spotlighted as “having the problems” also have the solutions. Tackling the joint problems of poverty and food insecurity means rejecting the way that charities have historically operated. It means listening to the lived experiences of those of us pushed to the margins in all manner of ways, and appreciating that expertise as much as the stats and the studies. We know.

By doing things differently, by working alongside community food leaders from communities across Toronto, FoodShare has been able to make an incredible impact. In 2023 alone FoodShare composted nearly 67,000 pounds of food waste, distributed more than 1 million pounds of produce, supported over 200 community-led initiatives, and reached over 204,000 people. That’s not just a number. They’re people.

• They are the elders who were able to come together to garden, harvest and cook each week last spring and summer and to engage with our team on the way food injustice shows up in their lives 
• They are the racialised young people who got the chance to carve out their path to agricultural entrepreneurship and challenge assumptions about what a farmer looks like
• They are the market coordinators and their dedicated volunteers who were supported in making sure there was at least one place in their neighborhood where folks could shop for affordable food 

Looking back on the last year I’m awed that all of this was able to be accomplished despite a great deal of challenge and change. Having to navigate a full calendar year without permanent senior leadership wasn’t easy, especially for a food justice organization, one that had just had to grow, adapt and respond rapidly to the COVID-19 pandemic.

But all year I watched the staff team do what they needed to do to deliver important programming and show up for FoodShare’s values. They embodied the organization’s commitment to “self examination and ongoing critical assessment of our work” and showed us that true leadership comes from all levels of our organizations, just like it does in our communities. 

In the last year all of us committed to FoodShare’s vision and mission found ourselves asking what choosing to define ourselves as a food justice organization really means, especially  when— more than ever before— we were being pressured to stay in the food security “lane”. 

But food justice is about more than making sure people have the food they need- as important as that is. It’s about acknowledging that the food system on which we have been forced to depend is failing everyone, in particular those of us who it was never built to serve. 

I won’t lie to you. My heart often gets heavy thinking about how much work lies ahead of us. 

While the people of Gaza stare down starvation and the police right here in our city violently quell the protest of those who are crying out for a genocide to end. While the money and political will to clean the poisoned river of the Anishinaabek people of Grassy Narrows never seems to materialize, but our so-called leaders have time to lunch with grocery store CEOs who see fit to celebrate record profits. All while so many are dying, while so many are hurting, while so many are hungry, while so many are hopeless.  

No. Our work isn’t anywhere close to done. 

But I’m heartened to be here at FoodShare with so many people who believe in a better way. 

We are in this together.

Gitchi-Miigwetch.

About Germaine

Germaine Catchpole is a Anishinaabekwe from Lac Seul First Nation in Treaty 3 territory, with relations in Serpent River First Nation. She currently works as a fundraising consultant. She has a background in Community Development and studied Fundraising and Resource Development in a post graduate program. Germaine is involved in Indigenous Philanthropy initiatives as well as managing her own small food product business, Mnopgwad Preserves.