We often put posters, photos, and other décor on our walls that inspire us, challenge our perspectives, and remind us of our connections to others. When I was in graduate school for dietetics, I had a wall hanging that at first glance, had none of these attributes. In hindsight, I’ve realized it had all three. 

“It” was a five-foot by four-foot poster of nutrients that I made by taping together 20 sheets of graph paper – five sheets end-to-end across and four sheets vertically. On it I listed all the nutrients – protein (and all the amino acids), different types of dietary fats and carbohydrates, every vitamin and mineral, etc. – down the left side. Across the top I put categories such as “Chemical Structure,” “Primary Function,” “Food Sources,” “Nutrient Needs” “Deficiency Symptoms,” etc., thereby creating a huge grid."

It looked something like this:

And then I filled in each box in the grid with the respective information for each nutrient.

Why would I make such a monstrosity and then decorate my apartment with it? And how did it influence my life?

I was working on a Master’s degree in food and nutrition with the eventual goal of becoming a Registered Dietitian. Before beginning our capstone research project, we had to pass a comprehensive exam (“comps”). It was a day-long, written exam with questions that required us to synthesize our prior coursework. I didn’t pass the first time (perhaps the topic of a future blog) and if I didn’t pass it on the re-take, I would have to leave grad school. 

I doubled down on the studying which included sitting for hours gazing at my homemade “Nutrient Poster.” Inspired by the challenge to learn deeply, I memorized nearly every detail about all the nutrients known to science. The poster helped me pass the comps with flying colors. 

It also forever changed my perspective about food and nutrition. As I reviewed the thousands of bits of information about what nutrients are and what they do for our bodies, my brain kept wandering to, “Got it. This is important stuff about food. But what about taste? Family tradition? Cultural values? What about all the other aspects of food?” It bothered me to study food in such a reductionistic, nutrition science-focused way.  

The dissonance inside me grew as I finished my research project and approached graduation. Despite the time, energy and money I had invested in my new degree, I felt incomplete. I discovered that I wanted to know more about food and how it connects us to others. I decided that someday I would dig more deeply into this topic. 

That someday is now. And Feast of Humanity is the “how.”

As I look back, I’m amazed that it all started with a messy DIY nutrition poster which inspired me to learn more, challenged my thinking about food, and brought me back to the reality that food is more than nutrients.