The holiday period only exacerbates the demand for kai donations at charities and food banks. We asked Jackie Clark from The Aunties how to make sure we’re donating in a way that’s helpful.
This is an excerpt from our weekly food newsletter, The Boil Up.
As Christmas rapidly approaches (sorry for the reminder), so too does the call for donations from charities. And alongside that, the corresponding wave of well-meaning tinned food unceremoniously plonked in food bins and under office Christmas trees. Charities across the country have spoken out consistently about the growing need for donations in response to the rising cost of living, and like every year, Christmas will only compound that need. I spoke to Jackie Clark, the founder of The Aunties, a charity helping women rebuild their lives after surviving violent relationships, about the politics of food donations at Christmas, and how you can give with purpose.
CML: What kind of attitudes do you observe when it comes to food donations?
JC: People come from a very kind place but they have no idea about the complexities involved with donations, and giving to other people. What it boils down to is most people are not aware of the complexities of need. They’re not aware because they don’t have any connection with the people they’re giving to.
Why are you so particular about the quality of donations at The Aunties?
Stuff becomes incredibly important to people who’ve been through trauma or survived trauma. For example, with our donated clothing, for these women, the moment they put it to their face, and they’re smelling this beautiful, freshly laundered smell they know somebody cares about them because somebody’s made the effort. These are people who have lived lives. We’re talking about lives full of emotional and physical violence. And the legacies of colonisation leave a tremendously long shadow.
So when you’re in a situation where you’re giving something, if it’s thoughtful that transmits such a powerful message to the person. If they open that box and somebody has put in a bar of chocolate or a can of fruit salad, that’s really important to them. It’s about being aware that people might not have the stuff in their kitchen to cook what you think they should cook. Take a tin of tomatoes: to make it taste nice you’ve got to have the herbs and spices. So I say to people, give with purpose, give with intent.
A few years ago, you asked people to stop donating tinned tomatoes and it sparked quite a heated response – what did that symbolise to you?
The major response wasn’t about tomatoes. The response was: “beggars can’t be choosers”. I get feedback all the time that it changed peoples thinking and that’s great, but a lot of people still think that. It also spoke to people’s reluctance to understand other people’s lives, from a socio-economic and cultural point of view. Because the dominant culture in this country is Pākehā, and therefore anything else is foreign, we can’t imagine that people wouldn’t cook with tinned tomatoes. It was really interesting to me because most people reach down the back of their pantry and get the tins they haven’t used yet, which might be expired or almost expired, or they go to the supermarket. When they’re doing that, they’re not putting themselves in the place of “OK, what would I want to eat when I’m hungry”. They’re thinking, “I’m giving food, at least it’s something”. It might be something for somebody but it’s likely to be nothing for most people.
You’ve said ‘asking for food is one of the hardest things for someone to do’. Why is that?
It’s soul destroying and we already have a generation of people whose souls have been destroyed comprehensively through loss of language, loss of land. And then we have other groups of people who’ve been fired or laid off. And they have found themselves in a place where they don’t have enough money to buy food, so they think of themselves as failures. It’s not their fault. It’s the most shameful thing in the world to have to ask for help at all, but to have to ask for food is really hard. They’re already carrying shame from years and years of compounded trauma, they don’t need more on top of that.
Most people who use food banks are from cultures where food is massively important, where if you’re going somewhere you take a koha and sharing food is really important. And if you’re in a situation where you patently can’t do that, because you just don’t have enough money to buy food, it’s shit because it means you can’t do something that is really, really important to you. The concept of manaaki runs through most indigenous cultures, even if they call it different things. That’s why there is so much whakamā.
If ordinarily there’s a lot of shame surrounding food access, what’s it like at Christmastime?
If you’re going to give at Christmas, you have to understand all of this stuff. It’s a really, really important time of year, particularly for people who find themselves in circumstances where they can’t afford presents, they can’t afford Christmas. It’s stressing them the hell out because they want to spoil their kids. How do you explain to a kid that there aren’t any presents this year? Let alone, we don’t have any food. At Christmas, I want people to think about the fact that you’re giving to people who are already feeling shame.
What should people keep in mind when it comes to donating at Christmas?
The number one useful thing is: give them money. Number two is asking people what they need. Because they will tell you, they’re the ones that know. The thing that people wish was in those food parcels most is meat, fruit and veg. For food banks, it’s not always possible because they don’t often have big enough freezer space so these people are getting mostly canned and dry foods. So make it a bit zhuzhy and a bit exciting.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
