debate about hunger issues,” declares Pat Kutzner of the World Hunger Education Service in Washington, D.C. “In saying that government programs have missed the target, her views have strongly affected the debate within government, the United Nations, and the churches. It is'no longer a question of how much food there is, but why people aren’t feeding themselves.” Lappe’s radical perspective, however, has offended some potential allies. “She’s pretty negative about foreign assistance,” says John Mellor, director of the Washington-based International Food Policy Research Institute, who acknowledges his respect for her work. "Even an apparently small change—consciously choosing a diet that is good both for our bodies and for the earth—can lead to a series of choices that transform our whole lives." “But if it’s only 10 percent effective, is it worse than not having it?” Kutzner also questions Lappe’s anti-government stance. “Some people in the government,” she observes “are just as serious as Frances Lappe but find themselves excluded from the dialogue by the extreme distrust and disregard of their agencies by Frankie and her colleagues. That is one reason why her work is so controversial.” Today, Frankie is talking about Nicaragua. Having coauthored a book about agricultural conditions there— What Difference Could A Revolution Make?—and having served as an election observer in 1984, she’s worried that Reagan’s economic war will escalate into another Vietnam. “The thing that impressed me,” she remarks about the Sandinistas, “is the lack of dogmatism. It’s exactly opposite from what you get from Washington.... It’s not at all that they have a formula that they are pushing down people’s throats.” “Will the revolution survive?” I ask. “Nicaragua has turned new ground in the history of revolutionary change,” she declares, her hand again rolling to the cadence of her words. “They’ve broken with the dogma of previous revolutions. So even if the worst were to come and they were destroyed and we could not stop that destruction, that history could never be taken away from them.” It’s this sense of history that inspires her efforts. She uses the phrase “honest hope” (“non-rose colored glasses hope,” she explains) to express her commitment to the future. “Hope comes from being part of the struggle,” she says, “making incremental improvements based on the lessons we can learn. We are all part of that common historical process. “ Every human society has the desire to take care of themselves, if they’re allowed to do so,” she suggests. “I’m trying to build a framework where people can see their symbiotic relationships to each other and that we’re all hurt by poverty.” She pauses for emphasis. “We are all in this together.” Nicaragua is only one of her preoccupations these days. No sooner did Frankie complete the manuscript of World Hunger than she launched a revision of an earlier book about U.S. foreign aid, which will be published next year. She’s working on a long-term philosophical inquiry into American political values, hoping to offer a redefinition of freedom and democracy that will challenge traditional assumptions. Portions of this work appear periodically on the op-ed pages of the New York Times and Newsday. She also recently published What To Do After You Turn Off The TV, a volume of alternative spare time activities for families. Meanwhile, as one staff member put it, “she’s got a hand in everything that’s going on,” overseeing projects ranging from agricultural programs in Central America to a Food First comic book. Often she works in a crowded study at home, linked to the office by modem and telephone. Then there’s her travel schedule. Last year, she spent one week each month on the lecture circuit, speaking at such prestigious forums as Chautauqua and Peter Carroll is the author of eight books, most recently Famous In America. He lives in the Bay Area. Photographer Theresa Marquez works in the grocery industry. She lives in Portland. Clinton St. Quarterly— Fall, 1987 35 Boston’s Ford Hall, testifying before the Catholic Bishops about U.S. economic programs, and debating conservative economist Milton Friedman. “The only thing we agreed about,” she says happily, “is that the government of Ethiopia is not good.” On World Food Day, she spoke before the United Nations. She spends another week each month at the rustic home of her second husband, Baird Callicott, a philosophy professor at Wisconsin State University. They had known each other 25 years before as teenagers in a summer camp. Three years ago, Frankie spotted the unusual name and wrote him a letter, which ignited the old flame. Their “commuter marriage” hasn’t made a dent in her productivity. When they are together, their favorite pasttime is reading aloud from such books as Benjamin Barber's Strong Democracy and Plato’s Republic. Frankie concedes she’s got no time for light reading or leisure. This year, family responsibilities—her two children, Anthony, 15, and Anna, 12, will be living with her full time—will force her to cut back on her travel. But she envisions a day, after the children are grown, of spending more time in northern Wisconsin. “It’s the perfect place to write,” she explains. “It’s quiet; it’s such a supportive environment.” Besides, Baird takes charge of the food. “I don’t have to shop. I don’t have to cook. I just get taken care of,” Frankie says with a smile. “And I love it.” But for now, she’s booked solid. When her children say, “ It’s Saturday, how come you’re working?” Frankie replies, “I’m networking. This is my life.”
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