Thank you to everyone who joined the launch of our Feminist Food Friends (FFF) collective last week! We were blown away by the turnout. Stay tuned for an announcement on our next event, as well as other ways for our growing collective to keep in touch.
Editor’s note: After a brief end-of-summer break, FFJ is back! We’re launching our new SPOTLIGHT mini-series: interviews with scholars and practitioners working on food justice topics through an intersectional lens. After that, we’ll be turning our focus to our forthcoming CELEBRATE issue, but we’d love to do more work like this — so please get in touch (hello@feministfoodjournal.com) if you’d like to be featured in a SPOTLIGHT, or know someone who might.
SPOTLIGHT is kicking off with an interview on participatory food studies methodologies with Damhee D. Hong (홍 담희), whom I was connected to last year by Jennifer E. Gaddis, after our interview about her and Sarah A. Robert’s edited volume “Transforming School Food Politics Around the World”.
In that interview, we talked a bit about the importance of ensuring that school food is culturally relevant and desirable — a theme I’m very interested in, as my PhD work is focused using participatory methods (namely Photovoice) to integrate immigrant knowledge into conceptions of “sustainable” food in the Global North. After our chat, Dr. Gaddis put me in touch with Dee Dee, a fellow PhD candidate who is doing boundary-pushing qualitative research on access to culturally relevant food on US college campuses. Dee Dee is studying at the Gevirtz Graduate School of Education at UC Santa Barbara, and her dissertation also uses participatory methods — in her case, a culturally grounded method called “Gimbap chats” — to explore how campus dining environments can serve as sites of cultural affirmation and inclusion.
Dee Dee and I were able to connect on a Zoom call between Santa Barabara and Barcelona, and she graciously agreed to a short interview that we’re sharing here in Feminist Food Journal today! Please read on for more about how students navigate campus dining environments and whether institutional structures support or marginalize their food identities. Fundamentally, Dee Dee’s project examines the broader implications of food access for equity, inclusion, and student well-being in higher education settings in the US — asking critical questions in a time when institutional equity-promoting programs are under unprecedented attack. – Isabela
Isabela: Dee Dee, I’m so grateful we had the chance to connect! It feels like there aren’t many people tackling the nexus of culturally appropriate and sustainable food systems, and I’m so excited to see where your PhD project takes you. Can you tell our readers how you came to the idea of studying culturally appropriate food on university campuses?
Dee Dee: My passion has always been about supporting students and ensuring that institutions provide a truly supportive environment in every area of student life. That includes spaces that are often overlooked or not considered to be academic, like dining halls. For students who live on campus, university dining services might be their main or only source of food. That made me wonder whether these spaces were also helping students feel seen, supported, and valued.
As a 1.5-generation Korean American and a first-generation college student, this work is very personal. I moved to the US when I was nine, and when I went away to college, I remember how drastically my diet changed because I was now living on campus, where I was expected to eat — as my mom would call it — “white people food” all day, every day, for the first time. I was trying to figure out how to succeed in school while also learning how to feed myself in a food culture that felt completely foreign. Honestly, it wasn’t very long before my mom was hauling dozens of Tupperware full of Korean food into my little mini-fridge in my room.
Fortunately, I had great housemates in the residential halls who enjoyed trying new foods. I shared my mom’s Korean dishes with them and we created a sense of community through food. I have fond memories of us attacking my mom’s banchan with bowls of instant ramen, as late-night snack after spending a night out together as college students do. But I also had friends, many of whom were students with minoritized1 identities, who only ate their comfort foods from their rooms in private, alone by themselves. I started thinking about why that might be. It seemed like many students assumed that their university didn’t have space for food that looked or smelled different from the norm, or that their roommates from other cultural backgrounds wouldn’t appreciate the food.
That curiosity led me to this project. I wanted to find out whether students today are still having those experiences, and whether universities are doing enough to make students feel proud of their cultural foods. I’m especially interested in whether students feel comfortable sharing those foods openly with peers or if they still feel the need to hide them. I also draw from the Culturally Engaging Campus Environments (CECE) framework, developed by Dr. Samuel D. Museus, which identifies key environmental conditions that support the success of racially diverse college students. This framework guides my thinking about what it means for universities to create campus environments where students feel affirmed, validated, and can build meaningful connections through culture. The CECE indicators help me ask not just whether students are eating, but whether their experiences on campus with food reflect care, cultural relevance, and belonging.
Isabela: Why did you decide to focus on the Korean student community specifically?
Dee Dee: At first, I wanted this study to focus on all students of colour whose food traditions at home don’t align with the typical offerings in school dining halls. I did some preliminary study across different communities of colour, and found this to be a relevant topic with many different Black and Brown student communities. But since this is a dissertation project, I had to narrow my scope. Focusing on Korean American students made the most sense, because I identity as Korean American. I don’t believe that research can ever be truly neutral, and thought that by centering a community that I know well, I can bring more authenticity and cultural understanding to the work.
As a qualitative researcher, interviewing other Korean students allows for more fluid conversations. We can trans-language in the interview, going back and forth between Korean and English, and easily build rapport by talking about all our favourite Korean foods without having to explain what they are. I always tell participants that they can use whichever language feels most natural, and often start interviews by talking about our favourite foods from home. The common cultural background helps create a space where students can speak freely and share their experiences in more nuanced ways.
Isabela: Can you tell me a bit about your choice to use Suda (수다), or “Gimbap chats”, as a methodology?
Dee Dee: I’m so glad you asked this, because I love talking about gimbap. Gimbap is a Korean rice roll that has always symbolized care and love to me. It takes time and effort to make, and it’s nutritious and portable. My mom used to prepare it when she thought we might not have time to eat a full meal. In Korea, it’s often brought along on school trips or when hanging out with loved ones at picnics, so it’s a natural fit for gathering students for a shared, reflective experience.
In designing this study, I drew inspiration from anti-colonial research approaches that resist hierarchical ways of producing knowledge. I don’t view myself as someone who knows more than the students I interview. Their insights and experiences are valuable, and their time is something I deeply respect. While, like many researchers, I provide gift cards in exchange for participation, I also wanted to create a more reciprocal, culturally grounded experience. Sharing food is one of the ways I express care. So I started what I call “Gimbap Chats,” where I invite Korean American students to come together and eat gimbap that I make. I kept hearing that students didn’t have access to authentic Korean food near campus, so I wanted to create a space where they could enjoy it communally.
These Gimbap Chats draw from the suda methodology (Meacham et al., 2022), a Korean conversational practice that involves extended, meaningful dialogue rooted in care, trust, and cultural familiarity. As I thought deeply about how to position myself in conversations with students, I spent a lot of time learning from feminist scholars of colour, especially Chicana and Latina feministas who have long used pláticas, or unstructured “talks”, as a powerful method for relational and culturally grounded research. I have deep respect for their work and the community-centered frameworks they’ve created. For a while, I seriously considered using pláticas as my model. But as I reflected further on the cultural and linguistic context of my own study, I realized that the best would be a methodology that honours the specific histories and lived experiences of the Korean American students I am working with.
Then I ran into the concept of suda as a methodological practice at an American Educational Research Association (AERA) conference, and quickly realized that it is the most fitting and culturally congruent methodology. Just as pláticas grew from and serve Latina communities, suda speaks directly to the kinds of dialogic, non-hierarchical, and emotionally resonant conversations that are familiar in Korean and broader Asian diasporic contexts.
As described by Meacham and colleagues (2022), suda is an ontological practice. The most common translation of suda into English is “chitchat”, which can come off as dismissive; in Korean contexts, it involves deep emotional exchange, mutual listening, and a sense of therapeutic care. It resists hierarchical structures and allows participants to share without a fixed agenda. It’s dialogic and open-ended. For many Korean women, suda is how we make sense of our lives together. It creates a sense of belonging and community, especially in spaces where we might otherwise feel isolated or misunderstood.
I think this fits my project well, because I am hoping that the Gimbap Chats will offer more than just a focus group setting — I want them to create an environment where students feel at home, where they can talk about food, identity, and belonging in ways that reflect their lived realities. I am currently doing data collection, and many students have told me that the gimbap chat was their first time eating Korean food on campus with other Korean students. That kind of space matters. It not only helps students feel more connected but also allows for richer, more honest conversations about how their food experiences shape their sense of belonging in college.
Isabela: Is it common to see these types of culturally relevant methodologies deployed in education research?
Dee Dee: Although culturally grounded research methods like this are still rare in higher education studies, they are gaining recognition as legitimate and important. The suda methodology reminds us that knowledge can be created in informal, caring, and community-centered ways. It challenges us to think differently about what research can look like and who it serves.
Isabela: Your project aims to inform DEI programs in higher education, but across the US, DEI programs are being dismantled. How do you see these dynamics impacting your research? How can universities continue to work towards these goals even under state pressure?
Dee Dee: This is a tough moment for equity work. Every day, I read about how more DEI programs are facing a lot of backlash, and that creates a chilling effect on campuses. But it also challenges us to get clearer about our values and more intentional in how we act on them. The needs of students haven’t gone away. If anything, this moment makes it more urgent to find ways to keep equity work alive and meaningful, to make our case with more urgency and emphasis than ever before.
My research is focused on showing that inclusion isn’t just about what happens in the classroom. It’s also about everyday experiences like eating in the dining hall. Universities can continue this work by listening to students, paying attention to the details of campus life, and investing in programs that make all students feel seen and supported. Even when political conditions make it harder to talk openly about DEI, institutions can still take concrete steps to create environments where students from all backgrounds feel welcome. That includes ensuring students can access foods that reflect their identities and cultures.
Isabela: Where can readers find out more about your work?
Dee Dee: Please reach out to me directly through email (damhee@ucsb.edu) or find me on LinkedIn. I’d love to connect with others who care about food justice, student well-being, and equity in higher education.
Damhee Dee Dee Hong (홍 담희) is a doctoral candidate in Education at UC Santa Barbara, where she studies how culturally relevant food access shapes belonging for Korean American college students. Her dissertation uses the suda (수다) methodology and the CECE framework to explore how campus dining environments can serve as sites of cultural affirmation and inclusion. Dee Dee has several years of experience in higher education and international education, including roles at Santa Monica College, the University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa, and Northwestern University. She has published in Teaching and Teacher Education and The Elementary School Journal, and has presented her research at national conferences including AERA. She holds an M.S. in Higher Education Administration and Policy from Northwestern and previously served in the Peace Corps in Indonesia as a volunteer in the education sector.
Further reading
Locher, J. L., Yoels, W. C., Maurer, D., & Van Ells, J. (2005). Comfort Foods: An Exploratory Journey Into The Social and Emotional Significance of Food. Food and Foodways, 13(4), 273–297. https://doi.org/10.1080/07409710500334509
Meacham, S., Kim, J., Wee, S.-J., & Kim, K. (2022). Re Zoomⓒ ing Our Academic Home Using Suda (수다). Qualitative Inquiry, 28(6), 625–635. https://doi.org/10.1177/10778004211002771
Museus, S. D. (2014). The Culturally Engaging Campus Environments (CECE) Model: A New Theory of Success Among Racially Diverse College Student Populations. In M. B. Paulsen (Ed.), Higher Education: Handbook of Theory and Research: Volume 29 (pp. 189–227). Springer Netherlands. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-94-017-8005-6_5
Weaver-Hightower, M. B. (2022). Unpacking School Lunch: Understanding the Hidden Politics of School Food (1st ed. 2022 edition). Palgrave Macmillan.
Wright, K. E., Lucero, J. E., Ferguson, J. K., Granner, M. L., Devereux, P. G., Pearson, J. L., & Crosbie, E. (2021). The impact that cultural food security has on identity and well-being in the second-generation U.S. American minority college students. Food Security, 13(3), 701–715. https://doi.org/10.1007/s12571-020-01140-w
The term “minoritized” reflects the understanding that racial minoritization in the United States is an active and systemic process, rather than a static identity. It emphasizes how individuals and groups are positioned as minorities through social, institutional, and political forces, rather than simply denoting numerical representation. This usage is informed by Benitez’s (2011) application of the term to describe the process of student minoritization, particularly in the context of how racialized students experience higher education structures in the U.S.
See: Benitez, M. (2011). Resituating Culture Centers Within a Social Justice Framework: Is There Room for Examining Whiteness? In L.D. Patton (Ed.), Culture Centers in Higher Education: Perspectives on Identity, Theory, and Practice (pp. 119–134). Routledge.
Welcome back! Great article.