It was such a simple thing, going to a street market in my community and buying some fresh produce that helped feed my household for most of a week. And I wish I could’ve just enjoyed that without feeling like I was contributing to gentrification or reinforcing white supremacy.
There are no ethical choices in capitalism, I know.
As I get older I feel more and more like the things that can give us joy and meaning in life are being co-opted and used against us. Maybe I just take it more personally when it comes to the really simple things like buying food and taking a nice walk with friends. And maybe I’m a bit anxious; worrying whether I’ll always have these simple (if fraught) things available as an option in my later years, or if climate change or the impending Trumpocalypse will do away with the last few inches we have left.
But for a week, I had tomatoes, and apologized to no one.