How I saw the importance of local journalism from a bowl of rice
By Qinglang Wu, March 3, 2025
Five years ago, I crossed over 10,000 kilometers to London alone. While my internal clock still lingered in UTC+08:00, my body instinctively dug into the nearest Chinese supermarket. I bought the ingredients and went home to make a stir-fry pork with peppers. In my first bowl of rice and my first bite of the spicy dish in a foreign land, I found a familiar sense of belonging.
I gradually realized that I wasn’t the only one searching for flavors in this way. In front of the shelves of a supermarket, I met Chinese students who were selecting hot pot soup base. At a Korean barbecue restaurant, I heard the mom at the next table communicating with her child in Korean. Those familiar ingredients and flavors are not just a personal comfort, they are part of many people’s lives. And local journalism is the key to making those microcosms visible.
Today, as US tariffs on Canada drive up food prices, as more and more Londoners need to get their food from London food bank, and as local farms and small suppliers struggle under the pressure of rising tariffs and costs, I realize that local journalism is not just about the delivery of information, it’s about fairness, cultural identity, and the lives of every one of us.
When food prices rise, who can afford it? When supply chains are hit, who suffers the most? When governments introduce new trade policies, whose voices are heard and whose plight is ignored? The answers to these questions are often tied to social justice. Local journalism, however, is an important force in making this imbalance revealed and the neglected visible.
Consumers who go to the grocery stores to buy a week’s food may just think 'the price is increasing again,' but they may not realize that behind the price of food are changes in the global marketplace and the struggles of small local businesses. Farm retail chains like Peavey Mart with 90 stores are closing stores nationalwide in the face of inflation and supply chain disruption, and this is a double whammy for farmers and consumers who rely on local supply chains. From the end of 2024, we have also continued to see news reports of London food bank coming under significant pressure. In a local news story published in CBC London on Sep. 11, 2024, Karen McDade, the food bank’s public relations manager, said the number of people assisted by the food bank may have tripled in the last three years. In this case, food is no longer something to be taken for granted, but a resource that some people struggle to access.
We eat every day, but how often do we really think about where that food comes from? While the national media focuses on the political and economic turmoil, the local journalism tells more specific stories. Without this local news, we might only look to the national news outlets for facts like “tariffs are affecting Canada’s economy,” while ignoring why that little store on the corner of the plaza suddenly closed and what rising food prices mean for ordinary families. Local news that reaches deeper into the community can report on the struggles of these small businesses and allow consumers to make more conscious choices. It opens our eyes to the unfairness of the marketplace that consumers don’t usually see, and it makes policymakers more aware of the impact of their policies.
Stories potentially like “Local farmers hold market in hopes of reducing dependence on imports” are stories that only the local journalism will pay attention to, report on, and drive community behavior. It’s not just about economics, it’s not just about messaging, it’s also about social justice, about the decisions that affect our daily lives, and about the unseen and unheard.
But food is not just about equity; it is also about identity.
When food prices rise and supply chains are disrupted, it is not only the families who struggle to make a living that are affected, but also those who rely on particular foods to sustain their traditional cultures. For them, a dish is more than just food on the table; it is a taste of home, a cultural identity, and a community connection. While local farmer markets are being hit by economic pressures, London’s immigrant communities are also experiencing an invisible challenge. Their taste memories, and even the food culture that sustains them, are quietly changing. When local news documents these changes, it is not just reporting a market story but helping a community to be understood and seen.
Five years ago, when I bought my first bag of rice at Food Island (now closed), I didn't realize that it wasn’t just the familiarity of the tastebuds, but the confirmation of identity of finding a sense of belonging in an unfamiliar city. Over the years I’ve witnessed the changing restaurant landscape through local news coverage. More and more Middle Eastern restaurants are opening up, such as Damascus House, Kunafa's London, Sinbad Restaurant and many more. These restaurants offer customers a taste of home and have become important venues for immigrant families to gather. Last year, a large Chinese supermarket, T&T, finally opened in London, and countless Chinese residents flocked to the supermarket, saying, “the joy is finally back.” These changes not only mean that market demand is growing, but also that local communities are embracing and recognizing different cultures, and that immigrant groups are building a sense of belonging here.
Without the attention of local journalism, these stories would have stayed as word-of-mouth message and would not have become a social phenomenon to be seen and understood. Local news in London allows these changes to be recorded and the culture and identity of new immigrants to be seen by mainstream society. It reminds us that identity does not mean assimilation, but rather multiculturalism, meaning that different groups can find their own place in this land.
As a journalism student, I want more than just tell these stories, I want to make more people realize that a sense of belonging isn’t something you’re born with; it’s shaped little by little through the building of community, the expression of culture, and the opportunity to be seen. And local journalism is a key force in that shaping.
Just as the local news makes us think about our willingness to support local production and become more conscious consumers by reporting on the plight of local small businesses and farmers due to increased tariffs, when a familiar restaurant is reported to be struggling to operate due to supply chain issues, do consumers understand the dilemma instead of just simply choosing a cheaper alternative?
These seemingly small decisions ultimately shape the future of entire communities. The opening of the Chinese supermarket is not only a result of market choice, but also a symbol of the growth of the local Asian community. The presence of more Middle Eastern restaurants means that the city is embracing more diverse cultures. These changes are visible because there is local journalism documenting, analyzing, and telling the story. It makes the community aware of its diversity and giving us the opportunity to support and guard it.
The value of local journalism, for me, lies in the fact that it allows us to focus on the things that really affect our daily lives. Food is more than just a dish on the table; it is a connection between land, culture, and people. It determines who has the right to participate in the market, who can eat healthier, and whose voices are heard. Our relationship with food is inextricably linked, and the point of local journalism is to bring people back to life, back to the individual in a large news environment. It helps us to think about larger societal issues, starting with the specific things around us, the things we really concern. Because essentially, when we talk about food, we’re talking about who we are and what kind of society we want.
