Yes, I’m thankful. After all, it is Thanksgiving, the traditional day when we all pause and remember that there are really great things in this world of ours.

These days, it seems like stress, aggravation, exhaustion and hassle are also becoming traditional to Thanksgiving. Last week over a glass of wine, I was astounded to hear some of the ways my friends and colleagues are planning on spending the holiday. One friend was wrestling between a mother-in-law ‘s wish for “a traditional, beautiful roast turkey” and trying her hand at Bon Appetit’s Butterflied Turkey with Fennel, Sausage, and Ricotta Stuffing. Another friend was already deep in the throes of menu planning for not one, but three “official” dinners: Kicking things off with a small Thanksgiving Wednesday night with just a few family members, then driving several hundred miles in the wee hours of Thursday to the big family Thanksgiving, then heading back home Thursday night to prep for Friday afternoon’s college reunion-esque Thanksgiving get-together. Because The Man and I officially call our Thanksgivings “an open house for orphans, refugees, and wanderers of all types,” there’s never any consistency from one year to the next… and that’s our tradition.

But let’s put all the preparation angst and coordination woe aside. Those of us with menus to plan, schedules to juggle, and people to welcome are fortunate. Never has this been made more clear to me than when I sat down to read Lisa Miller’s article Divided We Eat, a fresh and somewhat frightening look at what food says about class in America these days. 

According to new data released by the U.S. Department of Agriculture last week, 17% of Americans live in households that are “food insecure,” a term that essentially means they sometimes run out of money to buy food, or sometimes run out of food before more money comes in. (If you’re wondering, 17% of our population is more than 50 million Americans.) So while one household may be sitting down to dinner featuring locally grown produce, organic fruit, and ethically raised meat, their neighbor’s house might be struggling to make their food stretch just one more day – or, sobering thought, empty of food altogether. Earlier this year, I heard Rachel Ray speak, and I was absolutely impressed by her view on obesity and starvation. I may not get the quote perfect, but her thoughts were thusly: “Obesity and hunger are next-door neighbors. The next step up from having no food, from literally going hungry, is having access to only poor quality, nutritionally empty food.”

If that doesn’t resonate, try this tidbit on for size — in Jonathan Bloom’s stunning book American Wasteland, which explores America’s current food fetishism and our rate of food waste, America wastes enough food every day to fill the Rose Bowl. Yes, that super big football stadium. Suddenly, all those childhood memories of “Clean your plate, there are children starving in (insert your grandparent’s or parent’s country of choice)” take on a completely different feel.

Between the incredible rate of waste Jonathan Bloom describes in his book, and Lisa Miller’s exploration of what our food beliefs say about us, can exist a world of balance and moderation. This is something we at the Whole Grains Council and Oldways truly believe – do your best with the finances you have to make the healthiest possible food choices for you and your family. Celebrate your food with friends and family – not in a boastful, showy way, but in a true social experience that helps us slow down and linger over what we find on our plates. Don’t shame a person for drinking soda or indulging in a cookie, help them see these can be occasional choices that can be truly enjoyed sparingly, without guilt. If shopping for breakfast cereals for your children, or frozen dinners, or prepackaged mixes and meal solutions, look for those that can give you the most bang for your buck – ones that contain whole grains, are low in sugar or sodium, can be combined with extra fresh of frozen vegetables to help one night’s dinner become two, three, and perhaps even a lunch in-between.

Today, I’m thankful for the whole wheat breadcrumbs I’m using in my dad’s stuffing recipe, for the all-natural chicken almost done it’s dip in brine in my fridge, for the apple pie I made with a friend’s all-natural apple pie filling (that, yes, she made and canned herself). Today, I’m thankful I work for an organization that helps people make better choices when it comes to food and lifestyle. Today, I’m thankful that my little tiny grandmother taught me a long time ago that it’s important to think of food as “keeping body and soul together” – and that her experiences during the Great Depression taught her to stretch every possible resource to the Nth degree, a skill I learned from her. Today, I’m thankful that I see my chicken not just as tonight’s dinner and perhaps a few nights worth of leftovers, but as the base for stock that I’ll make later this week, bits to be frozen and added to meals later this winter. 

Above all else, I’m thankful that I have the option and the desire to try and make the world a little bit better, one day at a time, one bite at a time. And I plan on doing just that. (Kara)