‘Hunger has left its mark on me’: a Native woman reflects on her rich but food-scarce life

I asked my older sister why we sang the Patty Cake song so often as children: Patty cake, patty cake, baker’s man. Bake me a cake as fast as you can! She replied simply: “Because we were hungry.”

Her answer stayed with me, and I thought about some happy memories: mom making Toll House cookies while The Wizard of Oz played on television. Delivering baked goods to elders and friends in our Native urban community at Christmas; we are enrolled citizens in the Klamath Tribes, whose traditional homelands are in southern Oregon and northern California. Sharing food is a cultural value for Native people. Mom taught us to always offer food and drinks to our guests. It’s also important to have enough food to share.

Though I didn’t link that nursery rhyme to our family’s struggle back then (maybe that child’s play was our stomachs talking), I do have memories of not having enough. Our mom crying in the kitchen when she couldn’t buy milk. Hearing my stepdad on the phone borrowing $5 for food from my aunt. One night, when the cupboards were bare, he made us a chocolate cake for dinner, no frosting. And there was the time my younger sister, Chel, heard the woman ahead of us in the grocery line say she didn’t need the second carton of eggs that came with a buy-one-get-one-free special. Chel was proud, but we were hungry. She asked for the extra eggs.

View image in fullscreen Dr Angie Morrill’s parents posing like the subjects of Grant Woods’ American Gothic painting.