A Twist on a Classic: DJ Mack

DJ Mack is our new Opening Manager, and what he brings to the bakery in recipes is matched tenfold by what he brings in energy and expertise. Our latest vegetarian rolls with spinach and mushroom, and spinach and sun-dried tomatoes, respectively, are a new twist on the pepperoni roll classic. 

DJ is a twist on a classic himself. Born in Bay Ridge Brooklyn while his mom was on vacation and raised in Pittsburgh, DJ has a very reflective and real relationship with the city. While he has deep love for his community—enough to run everything from softball leagues to cook outs—he feels that the city fails to provide enough opportunities and resources for its own citizens.  

DJ Mack, photo by Angela Gross

“The job opportunities. The people, like the people in the communities that aren’t upscale, it’s like they just give up on life, you know what I mean? And it’s really sad to see. Sad to see people hanging out in the middle of the street at all times of night, and not being what they are supposed to be as human beings, you know what I mean? But, it’s just really sad.( …) And it’s like the rest of the city acts like it doesn’t go on. That kind of sucks. It sucks a lot actually.”

In our conversation, DJ went on to point out that those making political decisions are inactive in the face of the city’s gentrification, segregation, and economic despair. The extraction of resources from communities and lack of investment back into communities by those in power is an all too familiar story across Appalachia. Most livable city for who?

DJ offers some perspective from his time living elsewhere: 

“People down South, they seem to have this care... No matter how good this group is, they’re still only worried about their own group. I didn’t feel like that in Atlanta or in South Carolina or Florida. You know what I mean. Florida, it was so many different people from different places, different countries, but it still had way more togetherness than in PA and in NY, Detroit. These are all cities I’ve been to more than ten times. You know what I mean? So, even Chicago with their high murder rate, they still have a different type of togetherness as a whole than there is here. I don’t think it’s the crime that has a lot to do with it, I think it’s the outlook being projected by the media or just people’s lack of knowledge of what’s going on.”

DJ and his daughter.

However, despite feeling disconnected, there is a good deal of hope and solidarity in DJ’s words. His life has been led by compassion and joy, and as we know from experience at the bakery, he is always willing to lend a helping hand. He notes that mutual aid, the commitment to care for each other’s basic needs, shouldn’t be exclusive to times of crisis.

“But we’re all together. You know what I mean? We’re all on this universe as a whole race of people, a whole... what’s the word I’m looking for. You know what I’m saying. We’re all here together so why is it separate? Over here, you take care of you and I’ll take care of me and that’s not… it was never like that. You look back in the day it was never like that. The barter system wasn’t just about trading things that we had, it was “I’m going to go work here so my kids will be over here with your kids until I get back,” and it was no issue. I mean it was, “this person is older so we have to make sure we cut their grass, take out their trash, and keep their house clean, make sure they have their medication. These are things that are supposed to happen in our communities all the time. But they don’t. You know what I mean? And I disagree with it a whole lot.” 

In that disagreement, DJ’s faith in humanity shines through. He’s dedicated to making the most of his time and talents—most of which are based, simply, in having a good time. In the past DJ has organized a softball league and focuses on making people laugh.  He is a wielder of joy as a tool for connection. Though at first, when asked about identifying as a storyteller, he said that the title came mostly from others—at parties, gatherings, and more—he said he’s been speaking up more recently, which he attributes to his girlfriend. He remarked recently in the bakery that “I wouldn’t call myself a storyteller if I didn’t like country music!”

DJ rolling out dough at Rolling Pepperoni, photo by Angela Gross.

“I’m passionate about almost everything, but I really love sports. I really love watching people have fun. Like seeing people have fun, enjoying themselves, it’s really… I love it. It makes me feel great. Children’s laughter. Like when kids are laughing and playing, I think that’s the best sound in the world. It’s hard to be mad, you know what I mean? I love when people help other people. Like, I like organizations that actually do stuff for other people. You know what I mean? I’m passionate about so many different things—music, art, culture, architecture—i’m all over the place, you know? I’ve always been like that though. I’ve always just looked for happiness, you know what I mean? Gotta help people get happiness, if I can. That’s kind of been my goal, since I’ve been an adult.”

His cooking experience runs the gamut, from working at 14 at a Sicilian family-owned restaurant in Penn Hills to Grand Concourse and Jerome Bettis’ restaurant Grille 36 to kitchen managing at Central Catholic, Baker Tavern on Mount Washington, The LaMont, and Top of the Triangle restaurant downtown. Under Landry’s Restaurant Management, DJ was known as “The Cleaning Chef” and claims to be “allergic to dirt”. He’s travelled all over the country to get kitchens in ship shape before his work with Community Kitchen and Rolling Pepperoni. 

Our partnership with Community Kitchen has been an incredible resource, and we are grateful for their work and guidance in this partnership. 

“I’m most excited to see the progress. I want to look back on the beginning and like ‘remember when we didn’t have this?’ You know what I mean? The feeling of accomplishment and success for Rolling Pepperoni is what I’m excited for.” 

DJ, Katt, and Jules at Rolling Pepperoni.

Climate in Rural Systems Partnership

Though the Carnegie Museum of Natural History is operating at limited capacity, its community programs continue. The dinosaurs, hall of taxidermied birds, and mirrored room displaying gems that you might miss visiting is only a small part of the work the museum accomplishes. The Climate and Rural Systems Partnership is a three year program bringing together the Carnegie Museum of Natural History, the Mercer County Conservation District, and the University of Pittsburgh’s Center for Learning in Out-of-School Environments to create learning networks. These learning networks exist in order to educate, communicate, and organize work surrounding climate issues in rural communities. This is done through a 2 million dollar collaborative grant from the National Science Foundation, awarded to the University of Pittsburgh and the Carnegie Museum of Natural History. (In the interest of transparency surrounding public funds, the award numbers are as follows: NSF 1906774 and 1906368.)

The program may sound familiar to those who followed along with the Climate Urban Systems Partnership (award number 1239782), a similar program in the city of Pittsburgh. Working from this existing model, the researchers at the University of Pittsburgh and administrators at the museum and hub organizations involved have been able to expand into Mercer County. 

The museum leaders of this work include Taiji Nelson, an outdoor educator and the Senior Program Manager of this project from the Carnegie Museum, Dr. Bonnie McGill, a scientist representing CMNH’s Center for Anthropocene Studies and Dr. Mary Ann Steiner, a passionate learning researcher representing UPCLOSE. These three work in close collaboration with Jacqueline McCollough at Mercer County Conservation District and Lauren Horner at Powdermill Nature Reserve in Westmoreland County.

The Laurel Highlands Kickoff Meeting  took place in March. The energy of people gathering, albeit online, to make change was electric. There were 26 attendees, all with their own perspectives and understandings of what is necessary to make change occur. Conversations surrounded how to talk about climate change in everyday life, and what it means for these conversations to feel productive. We reviewed personal and public opinions, and ways to “hook” people into the topics at hand. These hubs are being created with its members in mind, and that means everyone from the Hoesch Touchstone Center for Crafts to Trout Unlimited to the Mountain Watershed Association. This dynamic gathering allowed for a sense of hope and connectivity, as well as movement forward. 

I also met with Jay Russel, the District Manager for the Mercer County Conservation District, and Jacqueline L. McCullough, the Enviro. Education Coordinator of the same organization. They were full of hope and excitement for this project, and expressed particular excitement for the kits accompanying this outreach. Illustrating landslides, floods, and other natural disasters in tactile ways, the kits were a starting tool to help the network members think about communicating about climate change in public gathering spaces. Now the network is exploring additional strategies in the times of COVID, to meet people online!

The history of climate activism in rural areas is fraught. At first glance, it would seem that an extractive relationship dominates the narrative. Coal mining, fracking, and even farming can wreak havoc on the natural environment, not to mention the shipment of these resources to benefit bankrolls outside the community. However, the ethos of Appalachian activism is the dire response to a need. From the Battle of Blair Mountain Maria Gunnoe and Judy Bonds, we can witness a tradition of community care and protection. You’d be hard pressed to find a self-respecting Appalachian who doesn’t care about the land on which they live. 

In conversations with the many moving parts of this project, a striking theme emerged: pacing. While the issues of climate in rural communities are urgent, real change must start small. Beginning with demonstrative kits at places like farmer’s markets, PTA meetings, and other gathering spaces, folks from these organizations began with small conversations. The conversations were based on shared experiences, like a recent landslide or the state of the local park’s muddy soccer field. Mary Ann Steiner emphasizes that “the importance of the local network, the voice of people who live in the region, experience the impacts of climate change and the trusted organizational leaders who know their audiences and neighbors can't be underestimated. We know from climate surveys that over 60% of the people in the region believe climate change is happening but only about 30% talk about it even occasionally.” Building on the network's local knowledge, project partners from the museum and university work with network members to define the actual barriers to having these conversations, and then, together we develop new tools and resources to create a safe context to ask questions, share experiences and figure out what is right for this unique place, at this specific time. It is about building an ongoing shared process for addressing a root problem and then moving on to the next. The organizations also convened local networks and put out questionnaires in order to identify the most prescient of issues. These were surveys in Mercer County to, according to Dr. Steiner,  find out more “about people's outdoor interests, climate beliefs, and awareness of local solutions to better understand starting points and assumptions we might be holding heading into this project.” This kind of education as activism works slowly, trickling like a stream working its way through a forest. 

Taiji Nelson, in an interview with Rolling Pepperoni’s Porch Talk series, brought up the necessity of emotional understanding in this work. Climate change is a tragedy, but it cannot be an unspeakable one. The meaningful acknowledgement of a shared reality allows us to look at it more clearly, and together.  It’s one close to home, especially for the generations of people whose families dedicated themselves to mining or farming as a means of survival. The aftermath of this is all the more personal when it has come at such a high cost. Making space for the process of confronting the emotional toll of climate change in rural places has been a key element in creating meaningful relationships, from which meaningful work can emerge. 

All this integral educational and social awareness is rooted firmly in a scientific understanding of rural climate change. According to Dr Bonnie McGill, Ecosystem Ecologist & Science Communication Fellow at the Center for Anthropocene Studies, 

illustration by Dr. Mary Ann Steiner

“We recognize that simply giving people more information does not change their minds or behaviors. That actually, too much global-scale information that paints a doom and gloom kind of picture makes people less likely to engage with climate change. So we are focusing our discussions on locally relevant climate changes and impacts, and will be working with climatologists at Columbia University to get down-scaled (localized) climate projections for the hubs. Most climate projections are for nations, multi-state regions, or maybe cities and can be difficult to connect with people's lives in rural communities. We are also making sure to pair climate information with actions people can take, so that they see the problem and what they can do about it. Individual level actions like changing to LED lightbulbs are good but will only address a small part of the problem, that's why CRSP's network approach allows us to talk about actions at the community and systems level. Climate change is the result of society's systems as a whole, not individuals acting alone, and the same is true for solutions to climate change.”

This project, like anything else, has taken on a major shift in the last few months, as we connect in new ways. They have taken on a holistic approach, working within preexisting community spaces (both virtual and physical) in order to connect on a personal level with the folks these issues are directly affecting. This acknowledgement of shared reality on so many levels allows for this work to be more systematic than reactive. It allows for shifts to begin slowly, for us to learn how to change. 

Stay tuned- this is part 1 in a 3 part series to understand the scope of this amazing project! 

Check out our interview with Taiji here:

Policy for Pabulum: The 2020 Pittsburgh Food Action Plan

“No one wants to ask for food from someone else. You want to be able to feed your children, take care of your own needs, pay your own bills.”

This story is about the Pittsburgh Food Policy Council and its 2020 Pittsburgh Food Action Plan. Direct quotes from an August 2020 interview with Dawn Plummer are boxed.

Dawn Plummer recently celebrated her sixth year as the Executive Director of the Pittsburgh Food Policy Council where she has led a charge towards the Greater Pittsburgh Food Action Plan. This plan, a guide for country-wide large-scale steps towards food justice, has been conceived over months of meetings, round table discussions, and careful listening to community members. The Pittsburgh Food Policy Council’s guiding principles of inclusivity and community conversation have laid the groundwork for deep relationships, which, in turn, have formed the infrastructure and informed the trajectory of the project. 

Food is a unifying issue: all communities need good food and safe spaces to come together, be it online for now, or someday in person. The PFPC has built a shared leadership model that is intentionally inclusive, inviting participation from activists, farmers, gardeners, bakers, restaurant owners, grocery store clerks, as well as an open invitation to anyone who eats (or otherwise needs nourishment.) On any team, campaign, or working group, they are able to bring together a multi-stakeholder coalition, holding space for the knowledge of community members, research, policy expertise, information and community organizing skills to come together and inform one another. 

Photo courtesy of Pittsburgh Food Policy Council

“The PFPC has been around since 2009. We started out as several organizations wanting to come together to share in our individual missions, to try and understand the systems behind what it was that they were doing. Some of those organizations were the Penn State Extension, the East End Food Co-op, Sustainable Agriculture, Food Bank, Grow Pittsburgh, all of us were at those early stages. So while one organization worked in one area, say, urban farming, for example, or urban agriculture, knowing that food insecurity, supply chain issues, environmental and sustainability issues are all connected, really trying to just create space for those people to come together. And over time,that turned into projects and collaborations, a need to really expand that conversation (...)”

Photo courtesy of Pittsburgh Food Policy Council

The pandemic has encouraged (and even demanded,) a mindful consideration of things we perhaps used to do on autopilot. Some of us have had to learn how to get groceries only once every few weeks instead of swinging by the local store for a missing ingredient on the way home from work, revealing the commodified nature of our relationship to food. However, for many, the commodification of food has always been an obvious reality. Food deserts exist by design in neighborhoods where resources are already scarce. The PFPC has prioritized the advancement of collective impact, that which can make the most change for the largest number of people. They not only prioritize leveraging resources, but reach the hearts and minds of those represented. I asked Dawn what Pittsburgh needs to know in order to build a more just food system. What do we need to do to increase understanding, increase sustainability, and decrease food waste? How do we address these deep disparities? What things can we work towards and hold as ideals?

“
I think one piece that’s really important is for us to understand the system as a city, as a region. What are our systems? What food do we have in the region? Where can I get it? Is it affordable? That consciousness is just one piece. And when we understand what those systems are, we see their flaws, and then we can look at the root causes of why those systems don’t work. Or, when they do work! What works really well?

But at this moment that becomes all the more critical, as we look at how the food system underpins the livelihoods of our region, but also the people. We try to think about food not just as a commodity but as a human right and a dynamic system. So what does it mean to have healthy food? What does it mean to nourish your body in a way that allows it to be healthy? And allows your community to be healthy, with vibrancy, with community gardens, and things that make a place home?”

Food Day 2016, photo courtesy of Pittsburgh Food Policy Council

Racial justice and food equity are inextricably linked. The Pittsburgh Food Policy Council upholds the advancement of racial justice in their own community-based processes, in applying their resources, and time. They examine the ways in which our food system is tied to a history of the enslavement of African people and the exploitation of all kinds of people across history in order to build a food system that’s just, equitable, and sustainable for the future. 

While good, healthy food may take on different meanings in different settings, food justice doesn’t stop simply with availability and abundance. Along with the struggle for a just food system comes the labor struggle, illustrating how interconnected injustice is under this exploitative, profit-driven economic system. Therefore the struggle for “food justice” cannot be understood outside of movements for economic, racial, social, and climate justice. Much of our food production involves the hard work of many undocumented workers. The state of Pennsylvania has a very strong immigrant-led coalition working on issues of equity that one might not think directly effect food production: like the ability of an undocumented person to obtain a driver’s license in order to commute in a rural farming area. Food has a way of laying bare so much of the injustices we face, connecting what we uphold when thinking of a better world. 

One partner organization guiding this work is the Black and Urban Gardeners and Farmers of Pittsburgh, which is thriving within city limits and looked to as an example for other cities to follow. The Department of Agriculture’s Dr. Scott Sheely gave high praise and encouragement in using Pittsburgh as a model for other cities producing food within city limits. Plummer’s intentional efforts to involve, include, and center the perspectives and opinions of historically excluded communities has paved the way for the creation of a Food Action Plan that demands equity at every level. This has allowed for a deep and thoughtful look at vulnerability not as a weakness, but as an opportunity to provide solutions to issues like free transfers for public transportation so people can get more affordably to a reliable food source, or raising wages at part time jobs. These are not simple solutions, but they are achievable. 

In this mission, they’ve seen a notable increase in both the number of people showing up and the kinds of people who are coming to the table. The digital accessibility opens doors, so they can reach anywhere from the offices of the Department of Agriculture to the home of someone who is caretaking and can listen in on their phone to the meetings. 

“We’re really trying to shift the power, and shift the narrative from charity, which, right now we need a lot of charity, we need a lot of giving, People need to share when they have with those who don’t have right now. That’s just the bottom line. We need to be moving food to people who need it. But! We also need to be understanding that there’s a real distinction between charity and justice.”

The Pittsburgh Food Action Plan proposes a regional food system, rooted in collaborative, community-based decisions, that prioritizes equity and supports the health of our people, our natural resources and our economy.

It offers the framework to imagine and build a just and equitable food system in Pittsburgh. And the work of fighting for and building that food system is the ongoing work of the Pittsburgh Food Policy Council. In a typical week, they might testify at City Council on issues that intersect with the food system, or bring together the regional food system’s voice around national and statewide efforts to hold legislators accountable about the issues that impact us. Continue to follow their vision and leadership by signing up for their newsletter or becoming a member of one of their working groups. You can find out more on their website: https://www.pittsburghfoodpolicy.org/get-involved

Photo courtesy of Pittsburgh Food Policy Council