Teaching new Americans culinary skills…and beyond by José Andrés
At Emma’s Torch, refugees get the skills to work in kitchens and make a life for themselves Read on Substack
Hello friends, today I want to tell you about a really special organization here in Washington, DC as well as in Brooklyn, New York. It’s called Emma’s Torch, a non-profit organization that provides culinary training for refugees. Kerry Brodie, the founder of Emma’s Torch, named it after the famous poem written on the Statue of Liberty (“Give me your tired, your poor…”) by Emma Lazarus. The organization runs culinary programs for small groups of students to learn kitchen skills as well as life skills—and they have a network of partners to support students and graduates find housing, seek employment, connect with local communities, and find mental health support.
Soon, the DC program will be expanding to a much larger facility in Silver Spring, opening the door for even more students to be supported. My Longer Tables Fund has given a grant to Emma’s Torch to support this growth as a lead partner as they grow across the DC region, starting with the flagship Silver Spring hub in 2026…building a stronger future where more students can train for meaningful careers, more employers can connect with incredible talent, and more neighbors come together around the table. I’m excited to see the development of the new space and hopefully one day to attend a future graduation!
The Emma’s Torch culinary training program is 11 weeks total, and includes time in a classroom, in a teaching kitchen, in professional kitchens, and in a café that the organization runs. The Emma’s Torch team teaches culinary skills like knife skills, food safety, and recipe execution, as well as training outside the kitchen, like how to write a resume, how to interview, conflict resolution skills, coping methods, and language—mostly focused on culinary vocabulary and kitchen-specific language. Just imagine how important it is to be able to understand the difference between “you did cook that” and “you will cook that”…!
Emma’s Torch also has a relationship with José Andrés Group restaurants in Washington and New York—a program coordinated by our director of people, Eduardo Maia—and some of the program’s students work in our kitchens for a few days…as we say in kitchens, a “stage.” Students have worked at Zaytinya, Oyamel, Jaleo, China Chilcano, as well as minibar in DC, and Mercado Little Spain and Zaytinya in New York…and our teams have been so proud to work with them.
The organization partners with local nonprofits in DC and New York, organizations that support refugees like the International Rescue Committee, the Ethiopian Community Development Council, and other resettlement organizations…many of which have seen a decline in funding, so now more than ever, we need to be thinking about how to support people coming to our country. Today of all days, this week of all weeks, this year of all years, I think we should all be thinking about what longer tables means to us—and how the work of organizations like Emma’s Torch can make our communities, and our country, stronger.
A map on the wall of the Emma’s Torch café in DC showing all the countries that graduates have come from.
My team had the opportunity to visit the DC cafe and meet some of the team members and students from Emma’s Torch (and had an amazing lunch at the café, of course!). Here are some thoughts from Kerry Brodie, the organization’s founder, Justin Edwards, the lead culinary trainer, and two recent graduates, Clara and Mamaissata.
Kerry Brodie is the founder of Emma’s Torch. She created the organization in 2016 after seeing the challenges of the day—a growing refugee crisis and increasingly hostile attitudes to new Americans, as well as restaurants struggling to find good workers. She’d had difficulty understanding how major change could happen through public policy—so instead, she decided to take matters into her own hands, and start a program training refugees to cook and to enter the workforce. Here’s more in Kerry’s own words.
Refugee resettlement is a long process because there’s the immediate trauma that a person might be escaping, but there’s also the trauma of building something entirely new—something that you didn’t plan for, that might not be plan B for you, but plan Z. Like, this is not where you thought you would be. And so many of our students have a shared experience of coming to terms with that, processing the loss as well as seeing the future with optimism, and working to build something.
And now, that trauma is paired with the constant harassment of headlines telling you that you’re not welcome here, and that you’re a drain on society, or that you are an other.
I think the loss of agency is something that becomes a huge problem because fundamentally, many people who leave their homes as refugees are taken from place to place and no longer given choices…Like, start here, go there, do this class. Instead, we like to frame everything as terms of a choice. We have our program and we’re clear with potential students about the parameters of it: this is what might be possible for you if you want to do it, but it is your choice to show up here, it is your choice to participate. It’s also your choice to accept or not to accept a job on the other end, at one of our employment partners.
We’ve seen more and more situations where families are separated, which leads to a lot of social isolation. It means we need to help people build a whole new social network for themselves, to establish a whole new social capital structure. So of course we’re teaching culinary skills, but we’re also teaching about employment. I like the phrase “knife skills and life skills”—but it’s not just language skills and how to write a resume, but also about equity and empowerment, how to speak up for yourself, to have agency over your life, despite the huge headwinds. (snip-There Is More-Please go read it!)
To win, Democrats must inspire the public in a fractured information age, engage meaningfully with the cultural shifts around race, gender, family, and migration, make democracy work despite obstructionists like Manchin and Sinema, and—most critically—deliver tangible results that improve people’s lives.
Kamala Harris pauses while speaking on stage as she concedes the election, at Howard University on November 6, 2024, in Washington, DC.
(Andrew Harnik / Getty Images)
In the aftermath of Kamala Harris’s loss, many pundits and politicians are turning to a familiar scapegoat. Critics like Adam Jentleson, a former aide to senators Harry Reid and John Fetterman, claim that “woke” advocacy groups made Democrats adopt extreme policies and drove voters away from the Democratic Party, sealing Donald Trump’s victory. But the truth is simpler—and more uncomfortable for the Democratic establishment. Despite the noise, voters didn’t reject Harris because of leftist rhetoric or activist slogans. They rejected her because she and her party failed to address the economic pain of working-class voters, who chose change over more of the same.
There’s a generation of Black and brown organizers, often the first in their families to step into positions of power, navigating institutions historically dominated by others. Alongside them are downwardly mobile white millennials, raised with expectations of stability but battered by an economy that delivers none. These activists, working within nonprofits and campaigns, fighting for causes once central to Democratic values, have somehow become scapegoats for the party’s electoral woes.
Why, after every electoral loss, is the left always the scapegoat? It’s easier to blame activists for pushing a progressive agenda than confront the real issue: the Democratic Party has long been shaped by far more powerful forces—corporate interests, lobbyists, and consultants—whose influence has neglected the real crises facing everyday Americans. We see this cycle again and again.
Contrary to establishment narratives, the Democratic leadership has often resisted advocacy organizations pushing for bold reforms on immigration, Big Tech, climate, debt, healthcare, rent, mass incarceration, Palestinian rights, and for policies like the Build Back Better agenda. This tension isn’t just about differing priorities—it reveals the actual balance of forces in the party. Corporate donors on Wall Street and Silicon Valley pour billions into campaigns, shaping agendas to suit their interests.A consultant class reaps millions from flawed strategies and failed candidates yet continues to fail upward, perpetuating a pattern of mediocrity. They, not progressives, are the roadblock preventing Democrats from becoming a populist force that could disrupt the status quo and win back voters of all stripes.
It was these elements within the party that kneecapped the Democrats’ most ambitious efforts to help ordinary Americans. The Biden administration entered with huge plans, notably Build Back Better, which would have delivered immediate relief: expanded child tax credits, free community college, universal child care and pre-K, paid leave, and more. Progressives pushed mightily for Build Back Better to pass. It was centrist obstruction—namely Senators Manchin and Sinema—that blocked those policies. The result was a patchwork of long-term measures like the Inflation Reduction Act and the Bipartisan Infrastructure Deal, whose benefits won’t be felt until 2025 at the earliest, if at all. By failing to pass Build Back Better, Democrats lost the chance to deliver easy-to-understand, tangible economic benefits and solidify their image as the party of working people.
And it was corporate Democrats—particularly lobbyists like Harris’s brother-in-law, former Uber executive Tony West, and David Plouffe—who held the most sway over Harris’s campaign. They advised her to cozy up to ultra-wealthy celebrities, Liz and Dick Cheney, and Mark Cuban, and avoid populist rhetoric that could have distanced her from the corporate elites who dominate the party. In 2024, the biggest spenders in Democratic Party politics weren’t progressives—it was AIPAC, cryptocurrency PACs, and corporate giants like Uber, all of whom poured millions into Democratic campaigns without regard for public opinion or the will of the people.
The Harris campaign’s messaging failed because, while populist economic appeals resonated with voters, the public face of the campaign was discouraged from embracing them. Instead, the focus was on issues like democracy and abortion, which, while important, couldn’t by themselves capture the priorities of working-class voters. In her public remarks and interviews, Harris, drawing on the advice of corporate leaders, frequently adopted a Wall Street–friendly tone that resonated with business interests, even if it alienated many of her core supporters.
It’s easy to forget that in 2020, Democrats saw historic turnout, driven largely by young voters who were energized by the largest left-wing and Black freedom protests since the 1960s. Biden won, and Democrats seemed to capture the nation’s hunger for justice and change, even as protesters marched with polarizing slogans like “Defund the Police.” Despite the controversy surrounding these messages, Biden triumphed decisively, calling for racial justice. The energy in the streets reflected a moment of possibility, a vision that real change was within reach. But by 2024, that grassroots energy had dissipated, and the Biden-Harris administration did little to revive it.
The loss of energy that Biden and Harris presided over showed up in youth turnout, which dropped to 42 percent in 2024, down from 50 percent in 2020 and closer to 2016 levels. However, battleground states saw higher youth turnout, around 50 percent. Young voters favored Harris over Trump by four points (51 percent to 47 percent), a sharp decline from Biden’s 25-point lead in 2020. The administration’s failure to offer a compelling narrative or deliver meaningful economic reforms alienated many young voters, especially on issues like unconditional weapons transfers to Israel.Trump capitalized on this vacuum with false promises and an anti-war message. Meanwhile, young workers, hit hardest by inflation and stagnant wages, saw little relief from the administration’s policies, leaving them feeling unseen and unmotivated. The simplest explanation may be the most accurate: after four years in opposition, Democrats under Biden had no plan for countering centrist obstruction from Manchin and Sinema. Nor did they have a clear strategy for transitioning to a new candidate, as Biden once suggested, or supporting a contested 2024 primary.
This disconnect was made worse by the administration’s lackluster communication strategy. Biden has avoided the media more than any modern president. In contrast, Mexico’s President Andrés Manuel López Obrador (AMLO) dominated the narrative with daily, three-hour, entertaining, and combative press conferences that have earned him one of the largest YouTube followings in Mexico. AMLO’s approach to the attention economy helped his party to secure another presidential term, defying global anti-incumbent trends.
Biden and Harris’s reluctance to embrace what some Democratic elites might view as “tasteless” or “uncouth” populist appeals allowed their opponents to seize the public’s attention, creating a void that ultimately drained the administration of the energy and momentum it once had. Trump’s simple, emotionally charged narrative about fixing the economy, winding down foreign wars, restoring order, and protecting “traditional” American values may have been filled with bigotry and lies. But it commanded the public discourse, pushing the Biden-Harris administration off center stage.
It’s true that some younger leftists embrace purity politics. But as Semafor’s Benjy Sarlin points out, the most polarizing moments in recent Democratic campaigns—like Beto O’Rourke’s “Hell yes” remark on gun confiscation or Julián Castro’s call to decriminalize border crossings during the 2020 primaries—were driven by the candidates themselves, not external activist pressure. Why did Kamala Harris take the positions she did in 2019? Because she was trying to distinguish herself in a crowded Democratic primary, where Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren were surging and Biden seemed to have the center locked down. Ultimately, these moves were about gaining media attention in a competitive primary, not a direct result of pressure from advocacy groups—many of which, like Sunrise Movement, Working Families Party, and Justice Democrats, with which I was affiliated, have spent years working within the system to create lasting change and deliver real policy results that resonate with voters
The backlash against “wokeness” often rests on vague critiques, offering little more than cultural hand-wringing without any clear solutions. And when those solutions do emerge, they’re often morally indefensible. Jentleson’s criticism of progressive advocacy groups rings especially hollow when you consider the track record of his own political mentors. In 2010, his former boss, Harry Reid, publicly opposed the “Ground Zero mosque,” a proposed Islamic cultural center near the World Trade Center. While technically acknowledging the developers’ rights, Reid capitulated to Republican culture wars by suggesting Muslim Americans build the mosque elsewhere. This wasn’t a principled stance—it was a political maneuver that lent legitimacy to Islamophobia, feeding into narratives from figures like Sarah Palin and Newt Gingrich, who compared the center to a Nazi building next to the Holocaust Museum. In doing so, Reid allowed bigotry to flourish, leaving a vulnerable community to bear the brunt of political scapegoating.
From asylum seekers to transgender rights, today’s debates mirror the “Ground Zero mosque” controversy. From 2017 to 2020, Democrats, including Harris, were eager to condemn Trump’s cruel immigration policies. Now, however, they seem more focused on dodging the topic altogether. These are issues demanding a new approach, one that emphasizes year-round persuasion and agenda-setting over political convenience. Thermostatic public opinion might be a reality of politics, but voters appreciate when you stand for something with conviction and authenticity.
This is where movements and parties work best together: movements push the boundaries of what’s possible, creating the political space to reframe issues like transgender rights and immigration in majoritarian terms, and politicians follow when the political weather aligns with their self-interest. These two sides will clash, but it’s in that tension that progress lies.
Democrats can’t be scared of that process. They must stop ceding the narrative to far-right framing and instead invest in populist campaigns that aren’t afraid to antagonize villains, highlight the humanity of marginalized communities, and expose the Republican Party’s divide-and-conquer tactics. Only then can they build the political power necessary to shift the conversation and secure real change.
Anyone who knows me knows I’m critical of the academic jargon and misguided tactics that sometimes dominate activist circles. But to blame activists for the party’s struggles is to overlook the much larger battles they’re engaged in: 11 million undocumented Americans left in limbo, a prison system that incarcerates more people than any other in history, and an economy where three people hold more wealth than the bottom half of the country. These are the moral tests of our time—tests that any party claiming to stand for justice will be judged by. Scapegoating those pushing for change isn’t just unfair; it’s counterproductive, fracturing necessary coalitions and undermining the ability of the party to tackle the crises ahead.
Harris’s defeat should prompt serious introspection for Democrats—but not the narrow, one-sided critique Jentleson offers. Everyone, including progressive advocacy groups, has lessons to learn. The path forward isn’t about hippie-punching—it never has been. Time and again, the center-left’s response to electoral defeat has been to blame the unpopular and disruptive activists pushing for progress, whether abolitionists, suffragettes, labor unions, civil rights leaders, or environmentalists.
History reveals that oversimplified approaches often sidestep the harder questions. Success doesn’t come from rejecting the complexity of a diverse coalition but from learning to navigate it. To win, Democrats must inspire the public in a fractured information age, engage meaningfully with the cultural shifts around race, gender, family, and migration, make democracy work despite obstructionists like Manchin and Sinema, and—most critically—deliver tangible results that improve people’s lives.And if the corporate, status quo–loving forces within the party are standing in the way of that mission, they must be moved aside.
Success will come not by pointing fingers but by telling a story of transformation—with clear villains, bold vision, and conviction that democracy can, indeed, make a difference.
August 30, 1963 A “hotline” telephone link was installed between the Kremlin in Moscow and the White House in Washington, D.C. The intention was to allow direct communication in the event of a crisis between the U.S. president and the leader of the Soviet Union (U.S.S.R.). It had been agreed to following the Cuban Missile Crisis.
August 30, 1964 The Democratic Party National Convention refused to seat any delegates from the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party (MFDP). The Credentials Committee chose to seat the all-white delegation from Mississippi’s regular Democratic Party despite overwhelming evidence of the state party’s efforts to disenfranchise Mississippi’s Negro citizens. A proposed compromise of two non-voting guest delegates from MFDP was rejected by its leaders. The dispute, the political intrigue, and the long-term effects
August 30, 1967 The Senate confirmed the appointment of Thurgood Marshall as the first Supreme Court Justice of African-American descent. Marshall had been counsel to the NAACP Legal Defense Fund, and had been the lead attorney in the Brown v. Board of Education case. He was appointed to the Court by President Lyndon Johnson after having served as Solicitor General of the U.S. for two years, and on the U.S. Court of Appeals for four. Thurgood Marshall Who was Thurgood Marshall? NAACP
August 30, 1971 Ten empty school busses were dynamited in Pontiac, Michigan, eight days before a school integration plan was to begin. Following Federal Judge Damon Keith’s finding that Pontiac’s school board had “intentionally” perpetuated segregation, a plan was developed by the board that included bussing of 8700 children. The bombers were later identified as leaders and members of the Ku Klux Klan, arrested, tried, convicted and imprisoned.
August 30, 1980 Striking Polish workers, their numbers approaching 150,000, won a sweeping victory in a battle with the Polish Communist government for the right to independent trade unions and the right to strike. Their lead negotiator was Lech Walesa, head of the union, Solidarnos´c´ (Solidarity). Lech Walesa announces the deal to cheering crowds of shipyard workers.
August 30, 1999 Residents of East Timor voted for independence from Indonesia in a U.N.-sponsored election. More about the East Timor election
Celeste Yim, the first out nonbinary writer for Saturday Night Live, announced they are leaving the show this week after five years.
Yim, who was hired as an SNL staff writer in 2020 and promoted to writing supervisor in 2023, announced their decision to leave the show after its 50th season in an Instagram post late Sunday night.
“Lorne [Michaels] hired me over the phone when I was 23 and the job literally made all of my dreams come true BUT it was also grueling and I slept in my office every week BUT my friends helped me with everything BUT I got yelled at by random famous men BUT some famous girls too BUT I loved it and I laughed every day and it’s where I grew up,” Yim wrote in the post.
(snip-embedded Instagram on the page)
“I hate when other people say this but it’s true that I was the first ever out trans person to be a writer for SNL,” the scribe wrote. “I always felt honored to be working within the long tradition of queer writing at the show,” Yim added, joking that “Chevy [Chase] is nonbinary!” (Chase was a cast member and hosted Weekend Update in the first season of the long-running series.) Yim also vowed to keep writing comedy in the face of anti-trans oppression. “I feel so powerless to protect trans people in the world but writing connects us and makes us permanent, so it’s what I will continue to do,” they wrote.
“Thank you Bowen for changing my life and for making me feel normal,” Yim wrote on Instagram this week. (Yim also recently wrote for Yang and Matt Rogers’ Las Culturistas Awards, held earlier this month.) Their statement also thanked “every SNL assistant and production crew member who ever made any part of anything I ever wrote.”
Yim’s time on SNL saw an influx of queer and nonbinary cast members like Molly Kearney and Punkie Johnson, both of whom have since left the show. At the same time, SNL also earned backlash from LGBTQ+ viewers by inviting hosts like Shane Gillis and Dave Chappelle, both of whom have made homophobic and transphobic comments on stage; when Chappelle hosted SNL in 2022, a nonbinary writer — widely believed, but not confirmed, to be Yim — asked to sit out for the week, after which Chappelle made a joke calling the writer “a they” during dress rehearsal (which did not appear in the final show).
“Thank you to my family and friends who love me still even though I did not see them very much,” Yim wrote in their departure announcement. “And thank you all for your support. For writing to me and for wearing my sketches as Halloween costumes. […] I try to imagine my younger self learning about me. I would be amazed. But then I’d be like…Wait, why are you dressed like that…”
Yim’s comments were full of current and former SNL cast members and writers expressing wholehearted support, including Yang, Ego Nwodim, and Jane Wickline, as well as non-SNL celebs like Padma Lakshmi, Jeremy O. Harris, and Ziwe.
“My baby,” cast member (and L’Eggs icon) Aidy Bryant wrote simply, summing it up.
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