40 Days 2025

Day 36 – We Can Know a Thing and Ignore It

We can know a thing and ignore it.

This is a form of survival, isn’t it? The reality of people going hungry may hover at the edge of consciousness when we pause for a moment of gratitude before lunch. But this awareness rarely barges in and demands our attention. We can ignore it. If we didn’t, we might all be in a state of endless despair.

And sometimes excruciating truth lands in your heart and will not be ignored.

About two years ago I read Barbara Kingsolver’s brilliant novel Demon Copperhead. Kingsolver skillfully puts a human face on a litany of social ills from domestic violence and poverty to foster care and child food insecurity. She uses fiction to examine excruciating truths about the human condition from a slight remove. Yet the truths remain.

When I closed the book the true horrors of the story ripped me to shreds. I felt utterly helpless, hot with anger. I cussed. I cried.

Eventually, I journaled. Once I found my way to calm, I wrote: What can I do? A reply (not an answer) came in pieces.

  • I’m an artist.
  • I live in the city of Riverside, California.
  • How many children are hungry right here and how can I help?

Get the data. Talk to people. Anyone who is too polite to brush you off.

Eventually someone pointed me to DataQuest on the California Department of Education website, and I found information for the entire State of California.

I refined my search: Riverside County > City of Riverside > Alvord and Riverside School Districts.

Limit the information: Only elementary students eligible for Free Lunch.

The Total Figure: 16,553.

What the…?!! This reality flattened me. The number 16,553 represents children in public elementary school, who are—as a friend reminded me in my paralyzed grief—recognized. They count. They are identified and often receive free breakfast and lunch. It isn’t the loaves and fishes, but cafeteria meals make a significant difference to the 60-70% of our children who need them.

But what about weekends, holidays, and summer vacation? What then? According to the Food Policy Data Lab, “millions of children [in the U.S.] go to bed hungry each night, and countless families are stuck making tradeoffs between buying groceries or paying rent.” The cussing and crying continued.

To move out of overwhelm, I took a step toward creativity: I reached out for help. Many people in Riverside have been addressing food insecurity for years. I found these helpers. Some became collaborators. Oh, what passionate conversations ensued! My notebook filled with ideas.

The creativity of those conversations and ideas formed vital stitches in my mending process. Now, two years on, the mending continues.

Since wondering What can I do? I’ve created two art installations highlighting child food insecurity here in Riverside, California. The one entitled Article 24 is currently on display and you can see it for yourself and maybe ask, What can I do? For a few suggestions, pick up the big pink show card (under the installation) and turn it over.

Where can you find Article 24? Well, right now 16, 553 cardboard spoons fall from a net in the rotunda of the Zapara School of Business at La Sierra University. They take up space and call for attention. Their presence, like a cloud of witnesses, is a testament of contradictions. Thousands of children go hungry right here where we live. AND, over four hundred community members recognize them and choose to confront the excruciating truth of hunger with their time, attention, and care.

I strongly suspect that eradicating child hunger in our city is similar to creating socially-engaged community art: Hundreds of people know a hard truth and don’t ignore it. We show up in simple, doable ways. We work with accessible material as individuals and in groups and use our hands and hearts to create small parts of a unified whole. In the process we not only begin to mend a grievous tear in our community, we begin to mend ourselves.


Rebecca Waring-Crane galvanizes moral imagination through her socially-engaged, community-based art. She teaches Aquamotion classes for Riverside Parks & Rec and lives with the dear and delightful Ken Crane.