DC Central Kitchen Article

Ashleigh

June 2, 2009

I walked into the room, and was immediately greeted by delicious smells, some familiar, some not. First I was given a hairnet, which I was told to wear and not take off until we were done. Then I was given a plastic apron, and to go with everything, rubber gloves. Once I was all dressed and ready to help cook I was led to a table in the center of the kitchen. Here I was told how to cut chicken, first cut down the middle, then cut the halves in half, then cut again into chunks. Lloyd and I got through about eight trays before there weren’t any left. So we got started on cutting onions. Many, many onions.  Of course there was a routine: first the ends, then in half, then take off the skin. It was a rather mind dulling job, doing the same thing over and over and just waiting for some of the juice to get in your eye. Luckily, that never happened to me, though the general cutting of the onions did get to me, both mentally and physically.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, we were moved to helping out with rice. We spread it, layered chicken across, then topped it with great looking sauce. At this point we had been there for about three hours, and hunger and weariness were definitely starting to set in. My stomach was growling, and my body seemed to be less and less happy to make food, especially since I would never even get to have some. But every time I thought these thoughts my mind told me just how selfish they were. The truth is, that even though it was a lot of tiring work, with no reward that I could personally show, it just felt great.

            Although it was a lot of work, it was good work. I was never bored or mad about doing any of it. I was glad to do this because it just felt right. I liked knowing that I was making a difference in someone’s life, both by making the food and supporting the kitchen. It felt even more right once I learned a little more about who I was helping out. The DC Central Kitchen does more that send food to homeless shelters. They work with groups to help people who have had hard times in their lives, such as drugs, poverty and even jail time. They run programs that help these people start their lives again. So, instead of just giving them food, they are helping people with needs start their lives again. 

Once I learned this I looked around the kitchen and realized that most of the people working here had been in that exact help group. I listened more closely to others talking and realized that not too long ago these were the people we are told to stay away from, the ones that “make the world a bad place”. Now though, they are helping themselves, others who were once like them, and their community. And even if it wasn’t for long I was glad that I was able to help out.