A recipe for sustaining hope 

Reflecting on what’s next in the wake of the US election 

By Matt Johnstone, Executive Director 

After a U.S. election, we in Canada have always found ourselves looking southward, not simply out of curiosity but with a sense of shared stakes. The shifts in our neighbor’s political and cultural landscapes inevitably reverberate across our own communities. This is especially so now, for those of us working in civil society, championing values like equity and dignity in the face of an increasingly divided and complex world.

As executive director of the food justice charity, FoodShare Toronto, my work—and that of my colleagues—rests on a foundation of deep-rooted values, not as abstract ideals but as skills we practice every day. Equity, dignity, and joy are not just the cornerstones of FoodShare’s mission; they are, and they should be, tools we employ and refine, much like a chef perfects a recipe. They help us bring people together, creating spaces where everyone, regardless of background, can experience the richness of shared experience.

This election reminds us how fragile that connection is. For some, the results might be seen as a reaction against progressive movements that can sometimes overlook the importance of unity in pursuit of justice. For others, this loss might be seen as an abdication of genuine progressive values by the Democrats. Either way, the right has found its voice by tapping into a populist message that resonates with individuals who, rightly or wrongly, feel alienated by a particular vision of progress that they don’t see themselves reflected in.

Either way, the right has found its voice by tapping into a populist message that resonates with individuals who, rightly or wrongly, feel alienated by a particular vision of progress that they don’t see themselves reflected in.

And here is where the work of civil society becomes paramount: to build movements that bridge divides rather than deepen them, and to stand firm on the foundations set by those values.

At FoodShare, we have learned that if we genuinely want to advance equity, we must also foster a shared sense of joy. Addressing food insecurity isn’t about ensuring access to calories or nutrients; it’s about creating opportunities and means for people to thrive. It’s about cultivating places where dignity is non-negotiable, and joy is as essential as food itself. These values aren’t simply statements we make to reassure ourselves of our “goodness”—they’re the practices that hold us accountable to communities facing the injustices we aim to address. 

As I reflect on the U.S. election results, I wonder if some of the divisiveness we are seeing is rooted in a focus on values as abstractions rather than as skills we can actively develop and wield. Perhaps the lesson here is not only for our American neighbors but for all of us: we must be intentional in welcoming everyone to participate in shaping a more inclusive, a more dignified, a more joyful society. This means meeting people where they are at and bringing them along. Just as a chef must consider the preferences and tastes of their guests, we must create spaces that respect and make room for everyone, so that nobody feels left behind. 

In my years working in Vancouver’s downtown east side, I learned that people navigating life’s most challenging circumstances often do so with remarkable compassion and resilience. They practice equity and empathy, imperfectly yet earnestly, as they care for those around them. These communities taught me that dignity and joy can flourish in hardship—not because life is easy, but because it is hard.

Folks who have had to find ways to do more than simply endure, including Black folks, Indigenous folks, poor and working class folks, have a lot to teach the rest of us about cultivating joy.

Folks who have had to find ways to do more than simply endure, including Black folks, Indigenous folks, poor and working class folks, have a lot to teach the rest of us about cultivating joy. Demonstrating that it is far more than a personal, internal emotion. Joy is a skill, an action, a choice we can make every day. In this country, our cultural commitment to diversity, humility, and collective care is one we can strengthen by bringing joy into our advocacy and by grounding our values in lived experience. This doesn’t mean glossing over the real struggles that remain, or allowing people without values to run roughshod over people around them, but rather, it means committing to a vision where joy and dignity are integral to justice. 

I heard a lot of people talking about hope last week. In a memo with the FoodShare staff team the day after the election I too shared a message of hope, inspired by Elamin Abdelmahmoud’s framing on X of  hope, not as something we wait for to arrive, but as “an act of cultivation.” Hope is not something that we turn on like a flashlight when we need it. Instead, he describes the light of hope as the spark that comes from “rubbing two sticks together.”

The more I think about it, perhaps joy is just hope sustained. As the heartbeat that keeps us going it can serve as a reminder that even in the face of the most extreme political shifts, our shared humanity is worth celebrating.

The more I think about it, perhaps joy is just hope sustained. As the heartbeat that keeps us going it can serve as a reminder that even in the face of the most extreme political shifts, our shared humanity is worth celebrating.

In the wake of this election my challenge to myself, my colleagues and really to all of us in civil society who dream of a better way is this: let’s live our values with an integrity and sincerity that invites others in. Let’s share a vision of a society that all communities, regardless of political affiliation, can see themselves in. One where practicing values like equity, dignity, and joy is as familiar and essential as preparing a meal to share with the ones we love. 

In solidarity, 

Matt

Matt Johnstone is the Executive Director of FoodShare Toronto, whose vision is a Toronto, and a world where everyone can feed themselves and their loved ones with dignity and joy. Previously he headed up Sole Food Farms, an urban agriculture project located in Vancouver’s downtown east side. Before working in the charitable food sector he was a chef and restaurateur for almost 15 years in his hometown of Regina, Saskatchewan.