Hello world! I hope you are well. I am excited to say hello and full of nerves about getting it right. At this point, I have many first post drafts floating around on my computer. I even hit publish on a draft once last week, before changing my mind and taking it down. How do I begin a conversation with myself and the inter-web?
I question the notion of “beginning.” I have been thinking and cooking and eating for as long as I can remember. And talking about it for just as long. I have even been writing some winding food-feminism-mathematics-education papers for kind, patient professors of education when my assignments allow an ounce of creative freedom. Perhaps this is the beginning of a new form of writing and thinking. Or perhaps it’s a new outlet for my wonderings on food, family, feminism, and sometimes mathematics, without assignment guidelines.
I take the kitchen as place. It’s a political spot in the home, especially when thinking about feminism and womanhood. I think about schools and mathematics while tending to bread and cooking dinner, but I prefer not to do so while washing the dishes. I prefer that Mr. Quinn tend to the dirty dishes. I am interested in kitchens as women’s spaces and cooking as women’s activity. And conceptualizing those spaces and activities as feminist. The juxtaposition of feminist and anti-feminist space and activity led me to consider the kitchen as a space worth thinking in and about.
Maybe thinking about feminism and theory in the kitchen while cooking offers something new to the world. I offer a space for thinking about food, theory, feminism, and mathematics. Thinking about them together or on their own, it’s all welcome here.
On the topic of beginnings, here is a picture of bread, becoming bread. The starter is made of flour and water and tiny bacteria in the kitchen that makes it bubble and come alive. It’s not a beginning as much as just becoming.