Illustrated by Iris Busjahn
I don’t want to leave my hotel room today. It’s the last day of the American Cheese Society (ACS) conference, and I’m full of emotions. Bubbling up to the surface is disappointment and rage. I should be celebrating and filled with joy! Last night, the Cheese Culture Coalition (CCC) had its first-ever solo event and it was AMAZING! I already have ideas for next year. I’m excited to report back to the team, compare notes, and devise ways to make the next one even better. And yet, I can’t get rid of this anger.
I’m not supposed to be angry. At least, I’m not supposed to show it. As a Black woman, I’m not allowed to show that emotion. There are so many parts of me that I’m not “allowed” to have, share, or show, but anger is the big one.
I am so angry.
I don’t know what I thought would change from writing this column. I am still a Black, queer, disabled woman in a country that refuses to acknowledge my worth. I am still working in an industry that struggles with change. My column isn’t going to change the cheese world. I am one person. What can I do? I feel disheartened and lost. And angry.
I am angry at what I’ve lost since I did a fireside chat with ACS four years ago. I am angry at the loss of friendships and connections since then. I’m also deeply saddened by those losses. I’ve had to remove people from my life I’ve known since the beginning of my cheese journey because they would not stand by me when it mattered. I find it hard to forgive or forget the betrayals. I’m angry because the past few days at conference confirmed that I have lost several more “friends” because I’ve spoken out, called people out, and called others in. It hurts, as it always does. However, I will mourn those losses and move on. I have to. I can’t let this fester inside of me.
So, I pack up my room, go downstairs, and check out.
I’m sitting in the hotel lobby killing time before my flight, and a friend comes over and sits by my side. She asks me how I am. I tell her the truth. We talk. I tell her about my anger, my frustration, my disappointment, my pain. She sits and listens. Then she tells me the truth that I’ve somehow let my anger overshadow. Last night was a success.
The CCC team put together an intentional event and created a space where she felt safe; where a lot of people felt safe, seen, and loved. We start talking about how the event went—the ups and downs, some notes on what we’re going to do next year. I start to perk up. I’m thinking about the people who came out to support with very little notice. The distributor who saved our bacon: Provisions International out of White River Junction, Vermont. Cheesemakers who sent us cheese and butter: High Lawn Farm, Old Chatham Creamery, Don Froylan Creamery, Grafton Village Cheese, Shelburne Farms, Blakesville Creamery, Sequatchie Cove Creamery, and Rumiano Cheese Company. While I can’t shoutout everyone who donates to the CCC, I would like to acknowledge the three businesses who donated specifically for this event: Cheese State University, Rumiano Cheese Company, and the Curd Nerd. And of course, a huge thanks to Kristen Cronyn and her crew at Meet and Eat Charcuterie for donating the space and working so hard to make sure everything went right. There were faces who have been supporting us since the beginning—such as the Antonellis— and people who were just learning about us. It was a good event.
Ten years ago, an event like ours wouldn’t have existed. Five years ago, there wouldn’t have been BIPOC
or LGBTQIA+ networking sessions during the ACS conference. Four years ago, I’d never considered speaking about how it feels to be a Black woman in the cheese industry while so many experienced a social awakening after George Floyd’s murder. Three years ago, the CCC was introduced to folks in Portland, Oregon. Two years ago, becoming president of a nonprofit was not on my agenda. One year ago, I sat down with the rest of the board, and we said, “We should do something at conference next year.” Who knows what next year will bring. I will do my best to stay hopeful, and when it is hard to do that, I will reflect on the amazing community I’ve curated, and I will find hope with you all.
For so many of us in the United States, the future looks bleak and dangerous. I cannot fix it. None of us can on our own. We need to stick together and support our communities. We need to be discerning in who we support and critical of those who claim to support us. Look at how far we’ve already come by speaking up and showing up as our authentic selves. We’re not done yet.
Agela Abdullah
Agela Abdullah is a “reformed” cook and chef who took her first job behind the cheese counter in 2008. She currently handles marketing for an Illinois cheesemaker and serves as a board member for the Cheese Culture Coalition. She lives in Chicago with two cats, two sourdough starters, and an old laptop named Harbison.
