Soup is My Protest

By Sarah Signorino, Oblate

Making food for others, specifically soup, has become my own, small act of protest. My idea of what a protest is has changed over the years as have my own circumstances and accessibility.

My first large-scale, in-person protest was in 2005 at the gates of Fort Benning. I was a graduate assistant in Campus Ministry who signed up at the last minute to accompany students to gather for prayer and protest at the School of the Americas (SOA) (later renamed WHINSEC for the Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation). It was invigorating and inspiring. We first attended the Ignatian Family Teach-in for Justice under a big tent on the banks of the Chattahoochee River. It was my first experience being with people from the Ignatian Family who were committed to a faith that does justice. Our group slept on a bus on the drive down and back to Columbus, GA. On the final day, we gathered with 20,000 other people to see acts of civil disobedience, hear all sorts of folk-y music, and bear witness to the massacres of thousands of people in Latin America due to graduates of the SOA. Names were read of people killed in a solemn funeral procession. The crowd responded with “presente,” calling to mind their presence in our continued work for justice.

At the gates of Fort Benning

I was 23 years old. I distinctly remember looking around and seeing so many young people with a few older, retired folks in the crowd. I recall thinking where are all the middle-aged people? Where are parents? Then, naively, thinking: I’ll never be like that. I’ll be here with my kids one day because THIS was how to protest. (Ha!)

Soon after, I was blessed with being able to spend the next 15 years working in ministry in higher education. My job, assisting with the personal and spiritual growth of my students and colleagues, also enabled me to naturally continue my own spiritual, professional, and personal journey. Retreats, domestic and international service-immersion experiences (I even was able to bring students, staff, and faculty to the Mount), teach-ins, prayer services, and all sorts of “other duties as assigned” propelled me deeper in the Jesuit-Benedictine-Mercy spirituality that infused my upbringing. It wasn’t easy but it was naturally a part of every day. I had my two daughters and continued adapting my work in ministry to accommodate parenthood. They made it in-utero and beyond to several protests (but never back to Georgia).

Right before the Covid epidemic began, I was even chosen to be a part of a global celebration of the Jesuit Social Justice and Ecology Secretariat in Rome. I was with 200 amazing lay and religious folks from around the world who gathered to celebrate all of the work of the Ignatian Family. We even had a private audience with Pope Francis! I felt on fire for justice. I couldn’t wait to get home and apply what I had learned. I was ready to pray, act, protest, and teach!

Then, everything really did change for me. We ended up home-schooling our daughters for 18 months during the pandemic. The career in ministry I had ended. I gave birth to the best Covid surprise: a third kiddo, my son, John. I became a stay-at-home parent at the age of 40. I most struggled with the abrupt divorce of my personal, spiritual, and professional life. Gone was the natural support and activities that nurtured me and propelled me to put my faith into action. Present was 3 kids, all with their own fearsome needs, 2 cats, a husband, and a house in Buffalo to take care of.

I deeply struggled (and still struggle) with midwifing what my current life means for my work for justice. I began journaling more and making more lists. I love lists. I realized that, while I couldn’t really volunteer in the ways that I once did, travel to teach-ins, lobby Congressional offices, or go on retreat in the same way, I absolutely had gifts to share and things that I actively wanted to protest. Namely, I wanted to form community again. I felt so alone. I made myself a monthly checklist. Here is what I came up with that I still use to this day:

1. Make a meal for someone in need. This started when folks would mention on social media that they were sick, overwhelmed, or grieving. I would offer to drop off food. Not to socialize, but just to offer nourishment like a silent ninja.

2. Drop off food at our local “blessing box”--free food for anyone who needs it, in a little box located outside of a church.

3. Volunteer at Family Promise of Western New York, one of the few shelters for families experiencing homelessness. I bring groceries.

4. Something “justice-y.” This has looked like me writing hundreds of “please vote” for the organization Postcards for Progressives. It has also looked like writing to asylum-seekers who are presently incarcerated in the Batavia Federal Detention Facility.

These have been manageable for me and my family. I take my now almost four-year old to drop off food. I write letters and postcards when everyone else is asleep.

What gives me most life and connects me to God, is making food, especially soup. There’s nothing like getting wafted in the face with the Holy Spirit while prayerfully preparing a hot pot of soup for someone. It is my protest against loneliness, for me and for whomever I’m giving it to. It also tastes delicious.

Sarah and her daughter Mary, enjoying bowls of soup together

Remembering your very real and present commitments and availability, how can you creatively and regularly engage in a small protest? For me, writing letters or feeding those in need provides a way to bridge the gap of “thoughts and prayers” to “action”. Soup can be revolutionary. Go find your soup!

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AUTHOR

Sarah Signorino has almost 20 years of experience in mission and ministry. She served as the Assistant Director in Campus Ministry and the Director of Mission & Identity at her alma mater, Canisius University. During that time she also began and co-directed Canisius' Be the Light Youth Theology Institute in 2018, funded by the Lilly Endowment. Sarah is an oblate in the Erie Benedictine community of Mount St. Benedict’s Monastery. Sarah lives with her family in Buffalo, NY, and enjoys hiking, reading about women's spirituality, planning retreats, and going on adventures with her three kids. You can find more of her writing at the Ignatian Solidarity Network, Wisdom Dwelling, and on Substack.