FoodLove: Nothing Wasted
Artwork inspired by Wendell Berry’s The Peace of Wild Things, made by Rufina.
This spoken word tribute to a handful of slain Asian Americans and elements of my Chinese-Filipino American heritage begins with appreciation for a scallion. In it, I explore the tension of being Asian American, of feeling and behaving as exemplary and loyal Americans, while being undervalued and unrecognized “model minorities,” not even a soldier is American enough in today’s climate. The beauty of nothing being wasted from a cooking utilization standpoint is juxtaposed with the disappointment and anger of one’s very breath being wasted in speaking to the crimes against Asian Americans.
The tribute questions whether speaking to the atrocities that befell notable Asian Americans is a waste of one’ breath because few seem to be listening or to care. Taoist meditation (in the reference to “tying the horses to the post”) is offered as both a traditional comfort and an opportunity. Speaking to the tragedies is the discipline, whether it is productive or fully understood. In this approach of non-attachment, the breath is never truly wasted.
Nothing Wasted
by Rufina C. Garay
When I think of Chinese cookery,
I picture the economy of a scallion, the high yield
of the purest white and pale green parts, stir fried.
Bias-cut, dark green tops, all thin to garnish soy and vinegar sauce.
Add garlic. Almost always, add garlic.
Left behind are the small grassy roots just as slender,
Compost for the earth.
Returning is the motion of the Tao.
To me, Chinese cookery means nothing wasted,
Everything and everyone valued,
‘Round the kitchen watching matriarchs and masters cook,
‘Round the table, eating, laughing.
Chicken dinner’s not yet truly done,
Until the cartilage is gnawed,
Still to come,
Roast the bones until dark,
when the marrow runs dry
Like the blood of my elder, 84-year-old Mr. Vicha, tackled to his death on a “regular morning walk” in “misty Northern California.”
“Make soup with the bones,” says my mother’s voice inside my head.
Nothing wasted.
In the oven, the carcass sits while I am empty like the hollow of its chest cavity. Our ribs heave silent sighs, browned.
How do we make soup with these dead bones?
Even chicken feet are more valued, not thrown away
But frozen together
With others,
then unthawed
transformed to stock
or even better,
authentic
healing
bone broth.
Nothing wasted.
But here, today not one Chinaman is valued.
A ripped shirt reveals
This military patriot’s scars,
important to him.
Alone.
All the same now.
Fathers and grandfathers
Already built your railroads,
Ushered in the American Manifest Destiny
at a discount.
All discarded.
Denied their blistered American citizenry daily
because of the slant of their eyes.
In wartime, camps opened, holding a mirror to overseas horror,
one step shy of the enemy, justifying
citizens held captive by their own government.
Why not weep for a sin-less Sisyphus
who eternally slides back down the hill of
betrayal and loss?
You’re taking too many bones.
You’re making too many bones.
“I can’t breathe,” became “We can’t breathe” a long time ago.
No words wasted
for a man, woman, or child from Japan
until the too-late apology.
Korematsu’s justice came forty-four years—a lifetime—too late
His personal diaspora drove him Eastward.
But, thank Tao that Korematsu spoke his words.
You can scarcely appreciate the economy of a scallion, until your bones are cracked
Or hollowed out from what you see and feel.
Returning is the motion of the Tao.
Tie the horses to the post.
Nothing wasted.
But maybe our breath.
©2021 Rufina C. Garay. All rights reserved.
“Returning is the Motion of the Tao” reference: https://tao-in-you.com/cyclical-movement-of-tao/
Citizens held captive by their government reference: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Internment_of_Japanese_Americans
Ripped shirt reference: https://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/ny-official-lifts-shirt-ohio-scar-asian-violence-20210327-qohjkmtbtrem3lgqxdqpikkxlu-story.html
“Sinless Sisyphus” reference: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sisyphus
“Korematsu” reference: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Korematsu_v._United_States
“Tie the horses to the post” is what a Taoist meditation teacher would say to students to remind them to quiet their minds and lower one’s gaze beyond and past the nose. This type of statement is often followed with reminders about meditative breath.
