By Gabriela Lopes, General Coordinator, Concordia Food Coalition
September 2025
Take a minute to play a game with me – look around and pick something to analyze. Let’s take that cup of coffee you haven’t finished. Now start asking questions: how did it get here? Who prepared the roast? Who grew the coffee beans? Who profited? How many hands touched all the parts that make up the cup and the coffee, before they came to this room with you?
The game can go on forever, asking questions about the answers and following threads of relationships all around the world. This is “systems thinking”, which means awareness of how everything is connected. In answering those questions, we often uncover stories of exploitative labor and extractive practices. These are problems everyone I’ve spoken with wants to solve — but because they are all interconnected, it seems that solving one problem often means facing all problems at once.
Is there a systemic solution? Optimists say yes. And one of the most powerful entry points into systemic change is food.
Every meal you’ve ever eaten can be analyzed the same way. Each ingredient carries a story of origin — economic, political, cultural, and ecological — branching into fractals that connect with the moving parts of the global human system. The food served in the Concordia campus cafeterias is prepared by Aramark, an international conglomerate which purchases ingredients from across the globe for as cheaply as it can, often from agricultural communities that are getting the bad end of the bargain in agreements designed by powerful people, who will never meet everyone they impact with their decisions. From seed to scrap, food offers avenues for immediate impact in people’s lives and the potential to spark larger systemic transformations.
Food is deeply woven into the tapestry, making it an ideal focus for change. It is one of our few true requirements for survival; civilizations are built on food, because hungry people can’t hold up civilizations. Talking about food is talking about the cycle of life and death. Breaking bread is an act of peace.
If we build alternative infrastructure on principles of care rather than profit, we can free our neighbours from basic pressures of survival and open more space for connection. If we renewed our cultural appreciation for food and connection, the transformation will ripple outward, reshaping the entire systemic tapestry by emancipating parts of it from the international whole. Self-sufficiency in food sourcing is a profound act of liberation; the food we grow together protects our communities from insecurity.
Our basic sustenance should come from as close to home as possible. Imagine: Concordia university meets most food needs, from cafeterias to student-run cafes, through collectively managed urban gardens, supported by local cooperative farms; imported goods are rare and seasonal — ordering exotic fruits is a planned event for a cultural celebration, not an everyday expectation. Food culture on campus and in Montreal is local, seasonal, spiritually grounded, and respectful. The community around the university benefits from the same gardens that feed the students, and has enriched its cultural expression thanks to the deepened bonds with the local ecosystem. The broader collective beyond Montreal is organized very differently, each place shaped by its own unique environment and community, yet connected by shared infrastructure. Everyone contributes to this through civic service, giving time to projects that matter for them. We consume less, live more locally, and — perhaps most shockingly — we trust and enjoy our neighbors.
The key is slowing down. But slowing down means stepping out of the global race for endless growth — and that feels dangerous. To make it safe, we need new political structures that move beyond the inherited frameworks of hierarchy and competition; in other words, we need to first believe that it is possible to live together in harmony. To cultivate this belief, we have to collectively build the foundations of our basic security.
At the local level, we can start by creating self-sustaining food systems that protect us in smaller, reliable circles. That could mean scaling campus gardens, building networks of collaboration with other universities, and strengthening farm-to-campus procurement. If we are secure with our food source, independently from the global race for endless growth, we can then start working together on reorganizing everything else. Food is both a source of resilience and a peaceful point of exchange, a way to strengthen bonds and open space for deeper conversations. Building local food systems empowers the deeper political conversations we need for a better global system.
Dreams only matter if they’re rooted in action. That’s why I joined the Concordia Food Coalition, first as a Board member and now as the General Coordinator: I was inspired by its vision to co-create campus-community food sovereignty, and by the legacy of people who built this movement and gathered its resources. Working from within a university is a powerful place to spark change — and Concordia naming food as a core pillar of action is deeply encouraging.
I am grateful for the chance to dream big, to push for ambitious projects that system thinkers imagine. I believe Montreal could incubate an inter-university collaboration with government and Indigenous nations to build a food system unlike anywhere else, yet inspired by many examples. I hope to help bring such a project to life through the CFC, and it would be so exciting to work with you too!
Get involved in systemic change by:
Coming to our markets and campus food community events
By volunteering in one of our committees
By incubating a new project through the STIR Program
Together, we can reimagine the food system — and by doing so, reimagine the world.