the first word
the first, real, long word
i learned to spell was
Safeway
S-A-F-E-W-A-Y
i would lean in to the stranger
unwillingly invited into my secret
as i shared
that the hardest part was which came first
the f or the e
with all the wisdom of someone who still sucked her thumb
teeth bucked slightly out
the first word i learned how to spell
was Safeway
safe haven of food
and candy beckons over tranveyer lines, watching receipts funnel out of black boxes
and tell me i am not capitalism’s dream daughter
tell me a good sale doesn’t make my jewish heart kvell
tell me nothing feels better than a kitchen filled with food
that i like my house prepared for an earthquake
or three
tell me why i continuously anxious i will not get enough to eat
when i have never been hungry
tell me if i bear the remnants of generational trauma
this epigenetic anxiety
i have been too scared to ask
because i am not a victim of anything
if anything i am bewildered by this oxymoron of privilege
why a buffet line feels like a personal challenge
how much can you eat?
why we always order too much at restaurants,
promise to remember our error
than always repeat it again
why we eat fast
faster to make sure no one will take our last bite
why intuitive eating has always been so hard for us
when my mind tells me i should eat more for later
when is later?
i wonder if this has to do with my not too distant ancestors
when they hid in pickle barrels
crossing unfamiliar land
i wonder what food they thought about
when their stomachs growled
i wonder if rations made their shoulders tense
i wonder if those memories
etched onto stomach lining
passed on
haunted those same places
because although true hunger is a stranger to me
i’ve always thought he looked familiar
like i had seen him somewhere
and i can’t quite place it
jews have always had tense relations with food
our religion prescribes
fast and indulgence, fast and indulgence,
in quick, unrelenting spurts
because food
food has always been how we communicate
my jewish calendar is also my menu.
food is our history.
on yom kippur we fast
to remind ourselves of our mortality
to remind us that these skins and bones
can be hollow too
because food is a privilege
because when moses went up to mount sinai
and we were too busy with our golden calves
our golden credit cards, and grocery stores and all-you-eat-buffets
he asked for forgiveness
and centuries later
we ask for forgiveness too
we are artisans at practicing self-denial
self-control
everything in moderation even moderation
living in a society with nine different types of eating disorders
cause didn’t you know gluttony is one of the seven deadly sins
teshuvah
we submit to discipline
and food does not cross our lips
maybe this is why food is always associated with guilt for me
and we are reminded, that it was only with full stomach,
sated from agricultural empires
that art could flourish
that people could turn their eye to beauty
look up from an empty stomach
hunger is a gatekeeper.
so the first word i learned to spell was safeway.
safeway to the promise land
safe
sated
s-a-f-e-w-a-y
and i like a supply and an oversupply of food
because i know food
food is guilt
and family
and religion
and history
and
food is power
(won a Gold Key at the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards; won a Silver Medal at the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards)