I was interviewing at the kitchen where I would work for my culinary school internship when I saw it for the first time: an intern standing over a large barrel, scraping a pan of chicken into the trash. That first impression of food waste has never faded. Meanwhile, out in the city, I often drove by a heartbreaking sight on the street corners - individuals with dirty clothes and downcast eyes, holding up ragged cardboard signs: “Homeless and Hungry.” “Single parent – Anything helps.” “Will Work for Food.” What saddens me most about these needy people – and the thousands they represent across the country – is that there is no shortage of food in the United States. Farms, processing facilities, restaurants, and grocery stores across the country waste millions of pounds of usable food before it ever reaches consumers. Hoping to shed light on these sister issues of food waste and hunger, I researched the topic and learned that 30-40% of usable food in the US is lost on its journey from producer to consumer (www.USDA.gov/foodwaste/faqs). Ten years of working on a farm and a college course in agricultural studies had already taught me that blemished produce is considered unfit for market, while low market prices or insufficient harvesting staff can lead to vegetables being left to rot in the fields. Similar waste occurs at every level of processing, long before the final product ever reaches the consumer. In the multiple restaurants I have worked in since that internship, the fate of leftover food continues to appall. Upper-class restaurants, dedicated to serving only the best to their high-paying patrons, make their profit from the best food. Usable but less-than-prime leftovers that cannot be repurposed for the menu (everything from mashed potatoes to leftover meats and vegetables) go to the trash at the end of a busy service. I have grown weary of watching wholesome food - food that could be donated to organizations feeding the hundreds of homeless and needy people in my city - go instead into the overflowing dumpsters behind the restaurant. The main reason for not donating seems to be fear of legal liability; but the Bill Emerson Good Samaritan Food Donation Act of 1996 was enacted specifically to protect restaurants, grocers and others who donate food for those in need. According to the Act, “A person or gleaner shall not be subject to civil or criminal liability arising from the nature, age, packaging, or condition of apparently wholesome food...that the person or gleaner donates in good faith to a nonprofit organization for ultimate distribution to needy individuals.” (Bill Emerson Good Samaritan Act). The law effectively makes food donation accessible to every individual and business in the food production and service industries, removing many barriers that might keep usable products from reaching those in need. As a student and a professional in the hospitality industry, it is my passion to spread awareness of this law and the responsibility of each one of us – producers, cooks, chefs, consumers – to help put an end to the wanton waste of food and the problem of hunger.

From my first glimpse into a commercial kitchen at the age of 16, the big stoves, deep sinks and long stainless steel countertops called to me. Growing up on a small family farm in the Appalachian Mountains, my brothers and I dreamed of opening a farm-to-table restaurant, store, and bed and breakfast in our great-aunt’s old white farmhouse, but with limited resources and no knowledge of restaurant management, the dream stagnated. We were raised believing that a college education was impractical and a waste of time and money. Culinary school was a lofty and mysterious concept beyond reach. Then, in 2018, I took a leap of faith and flew the nest, the youngest of five yet the first to leave home. With the help of friends, I got a job off the farm and enrolled in animal science classes at a community college. While there, I learned to my delight that culinary classes were offered at community colleges, and the old dream was reignited. I was soon enrolled in two community colleges, traveling 400 miles a week between three different cities to finish my animal science degree, take culinary classes, and continue working nights as a Sort Captain at FedEx. In 2020, having learned of the high standards of the culinary and hospitality management programs at A-B Tech Community College, I took another leap of faith, again supported only by a few friends who believed in my potential. I moved to Asheville and soon exchanged my steady job at FedEx for an internship in the kitchens of Biltmore Estate. Since that choice, my experiences in college and the hospitality industry have confirmed my original vision of running a hotel and restaurant - a vision that might have been forever inaccessible if I had not made that first fateful leap and left the farm. The scope of my early life was narrow and grounded, limited by doubt and held back by a fear of the world outside my doors. Being a first-generation college student has changed me - and my entire family tree. The future stretches before me like uncharted lands, ready to be explored. I have begun to fly, and not even the sky is any longer a limit of my potential. As I work to complete my degrees in culinary arts and hospitality management, my excitement for the future is only growing. The early dream of a farm-to-table restaurant and bed and breakfast is no longer stagnant and unachievable. These experiences have given me the strength to fear nothing and the faith to believe that truly, anything is possible.