FLM
FLM
Fete Lifestyle Magazine
Publisher's Note
As we dive into our November food issue, I’ve been watching a troubling conversation unfold, both online and in person. It’s the growing belief that people who need help buying food are somehow lazy, unmotivated, or unwilling to work. And every time I hear it, something in me snaps.
Maybe it’s because I’ve seen the truth up close. Growing up, I’ve watched families struggle, including my own at one point, not because they weren’t working hard enough, but because life got tight. Bills stacked up. Hours got cut. Unexpected expenses popped up. The reality is, most people seeking food assistance are working, some juggling two or three jobs, and still barely keeping their heads above water.
So when I hear folks shrug off hunger as a personal failure, or worse, a character flaw, I can’t help but wonder: how detached from reality, and from compassion, do you have to be to let a neighbor, coworker, or child go hungry?
The heartbreaking part is that we’ve become so politically divided, so wrapped up in our own bubbles, that helping someone is now framed as enabling “handouts.” But the truth is, none of us are as self-made as we pretend to be. Somewhere along the way, someone gave us a chance, opened a door, made a call, or caught us when we fell.
I’ll never forget a sociology class trip I took to Washington, D.C., during college. We spent a week living in a homeless shelter—sleeping bags on the floor, roach-infested bathrooms, the whole thing. It was so uncomfortable, that a few of us grabbed our pillows and slept in the van because we just couldn’t take it.
But that was one week of my life. For the residents we met, this was their every day. I had a long conversation with one man who looked me straight in the eye and said, “Most folks are only a paycheck away from being homeless.” That line has never left me. Because it’s true. A sickness, a layoff, a tragic accident—any one of them can take us from comfort to crisis in the blink of an eye.
That’s why this issue means so much to me. November’s food edition spotlights people who don’t just understand this, they act on it. We’re shining a light on chefs who have stepped up in extraordinary ways, using food not only to nourish, but to heal, uplift, and restore dignity. They remind us that when times get tough, the kitchen becomes more than a place to cook, it becomes a place to care.
And as the holidays approach, I hope you’ll join me in stepping outside your bubble. If you have the means to help someone—do it. Donate. Volunteer. Pay for someone’s groceries.
You may never need that kind of help yourself. I hope you don’t. But as I learned in that shelter years ago, you just never know.
D.C.
Observable Behaviors
Cover Photo by James Gustin
On the Cover:Chef Sarah Stegner
Location: Chicago, IL