In Graduate School, I completed my thesis on Puerto Rican food, embodied measurements, and the storytelling behind cooking. So much of cooking at home is viewed as part of a “woman’s” duty. An ideology entrenched in patriarchy, passed down by not just our fathers, but our matriarchs as well. “Ya te puedes casar” is the compliment one receives after making a delicious meal, usually learned by watching our mothers and grandmothers cook. Without the financial means or the choice of purchasing one’s groceries due to the power disparities faced in IPV, it poses a difficulty in staying connected to one’s culture. Theoretically, deeming the work of homemaking and cooking as unproductive simply because there are no wages earned. This way of thinking continues to uphold violent ideologies our survivors experience. In Wages Against Housework, Federici writes, “Capital had to convince us that it is a natural, unavoidable and even fulfilling activity to make us accept our unwaged work. In its turn, the unwaged condition of housework has been the most powerful weapon in reinforcing the common assumption that housework is not work, thus preventing women from struggling against it, except in the privatized kitchen.” Consider the woman who had to cook daily for the person who caused them harm. Once she flees the violence, stepping foot into a kitchen might be difficult again as memories trickle in.

Food has been political for the longest time and continues to be, from its smells, pricing, sanctions, and the ability to access fresh food, down to how food is transported and prepared. Many cultures across the U.S., Caribbean, and Latin America use food as a way to connect with those dearest to them, be it through family gatherings and holidays. So much of our culture is rooted in traditions celebrated with food. According to our 2023 annual report, 96% of our survivors make less than $15,000 a year, and there is a direct correlation to poverty and an increased risk of IPV. It is estimated that from 2025 to 2034, SNAP funding will be cut by roughly 186 billion dollars. So many families we support will be without assistance or reduced assistance. As an advocate and support system to survivors of IPV, one of the most frequently sought-after services we provide is our emergency food vouchers. Over the years in my work, I have seen a pattern in food items purchased. Nearly every household I have worked with purchases rice and beans, and a protein. Things I grew up eating. These vouchers allow our survivors to stay connected to their culture(s) through food, which might otherwise be difficult without these services and support in place.

In ways, these emergency food vouchers and continued SNAP assistance allow our survivors to reclaim the kitchen and experiment in different ways to feed themselves and their families. Opportunities, they may not have been able to have while living with those who have caused them harm, be it a partner or family member. As we know, harm can be done by anyone and is caused by those closest to us. If I can be a part of the reclamation of their autonomic processes, that is all I could ever hope and ask for as an advocate for those I support and will continue to support while in this line of work.

Reference:

Federici, Silvia. (1975). “Wages Against Housework.” In Revolution at Point Zero:Housework, Reproduction, and Feminist Struggle. (15–22) Oakland, CA: PM Press; Brooklyn, NY: Common Notions; London: Autonomedia. 

Dinatalia Farina is a Housing Case Manager with the Casa Sandra Transitional Housing & Rapid Rehousing Programs.  She has over four years of experience in social services and received her Master’s Degree in Women, Gender, and Sexuality Studies in 2022. Her research focused on memory, storytelling, and embodiment in Puerto Rican cooking.

Image Credit: Untitled, 1924. Diego Rivera (México, 1886-1957)