Monday, December 12, 2011

Chocolate and Child Slavery

Like many Americans, I grew up eating - and loving - chocolate. I still love chocolate. The smell of it, the texture, the varying degrees of sweetness. From the lovely, sophisticated dark chocolate that kisses your tastebuds and leaves you wanting more to the sweet, simple milk chocolate that melts so smoothly, I enjoy it all. My favorite cake is one of my grandmother's recipes, a dark chocolate cake. I prefer it without frosting.

This year, the week before Halloween, I received a bit of a revelation in my email inbox. In trying to practice gratefulness and thankfulness, I had subscribed to an email feed called The Daily GOOD, from the magazine GOOD. The subject line that caught my eye? Child Slaves Made Your Halloween Candy. Stop Buying It.

I admit my first inclination was towards skepticism; but I was disturbed enough that I researched a bit more. I found that the taint of child slavery in the chocolate trade is a very real issue.

So now what? I decided to give up chocolate, unless it is Fair Trade. Not a difficult decision when I think about children as young as 6 suffering just so I can have an inexpensive candy bar. I expected to miss some of my favorites. I expected to find it difficult to source Fair Trade chocolate. I expected to pay more for chocolate.

What I did not expect: the reactions others have had to my decision.

If I had simply stated I was giving up chocolate as part of a diet, no one would say much..... or they would be cheerleaders. Saying I was changing my eating habits because of child slavery? People have repeatedly told me I'm naive if I think I can change an entire industry by myself.

Guess what? I'm not trying to change the industry by myself. I'm simply choosing not to support a way of doing business that I find unethical, and at the core, immoral. If my choice causes someone else to take a closer look, good.

I was fortunate enough - lucky - to be born in the United States of America. I had a childhood. I knew my cousins, aunts, and uncles. I had my own bedroom in a decent house, with three meals a day and snacks. I had clothes to wear. I got an education. I never had to worry about being snatched off the street and sold into slavery. 

If this subject makes you uncomfortable, I refuse to apologize. Close the page if you want. It won't make the problem disappear.