FOOD
Bridging Chicago’s Food Gap
Why’s it so perennially hard to get food to those in need? BY MARTHA BAYNE, KARI MCMAHON, MAURA TURCOTTE, AND KARI LYDERSEN
VOLUNTEERS DISTRIBUTE FOOD AT THE GRAND BOULEVARD PLAZA SHOPPING CENTER ON JUNE 4, 2020. PHOTO BY MARTHA BAYNE
“With the pandemic’s significant impact on both the food supply chain and individual food security, the consequences for hunger relief organizations are expected to be dire.” 18 SOUTH SIDE WEEKLY
¬ AUGUST 5, 2020
S
ylvester and Felicia Toliver heard about it from a friend. Catherine Williams found out from her sister. Lolita Taylor’s cousin called her to tell her about it. On a sunny Tuesday morning in May, they and scores of other Chicagoans—bus drivers and day care operators and home health care workers and custodians and retirees— waited on foot and in their cars for a pop-up food pantry staged by the Greater Chicago Food Depository (GCFD). For many, this was the first time that they’ve ever waited in line for supplemental food. As they waited, volunteers from local churches and the Greater Auburn Gresham Development Corporation hustled around the parking lot of a closed Save-A-Lot at 79th and Halsted, stacking boxes of produce and dry goods on folding tables. A video truck screened slides depicting proper handwashing and social distancing techniques, as well as graphics showing the most recent breakdown of COVID-19 deaths in Chicago by race. The Black and Latinx communities have been hit disproportionately hard, and Auburn Gresham has one of the highest per capita death rates in the city. Over the PA, Bill Withers crooned “Lean on Me.” “Are you here for food?” a volunteer asked a passing pedestrian, then pointed her down 80th Street to the end of the line. Scenes like this played out all over town in May as the GCFD, the food bank serving Cook County, launched a series of pop-up pantries in South and West Side neighborhoods—not just Auburn Gresham but in South Shore, Roseland, Little Village, Austin, and elsewhere, including Guaranteed Rate Field, aka Sox Park, in Bridgeport. These and other predominantly Black and Latinx neighborhoods were already food insecure before the pandemic, said Nicole Robinson, the GCFD vice president for community impact. “There's a large group of folks [on] the South and West sides of the city who have had a history of structural challenges related to doubledigit unemployment, housing, and racial segregation that has made living a full healthy life—which includes access to nutritious food—more difficult.” Now, need is skyrocketing.
