Tell a group of kids that you want to talk to them about biodiversity and the dangers of food additives, and you may get a few eye rolls. Tell them that you want to talk to them about chocolate, and they're all yours.
That's exactly what author, education pioneer, and environmentalist Birgitte Rasine is doing with a new series of classes designed to introduce kids to the history, cultural origins, and the biology of cacao. After sitting through years of international organization meetings that had few results beyond documents, Rasine says she realized that "the only way to change things systemically is through storytelling."
[quote position="full" is_quote="false"]The truth is probably weirder than what the kids imagined.[/quote]
She committed herself to doing just that, and wrote the kids’ fantasy adventure book, The Jaguar and the Cacao Tree, released in March of this year. Next comes a companion coloring book, slated for 2017, filled with traditional Mesoamerican designs and scientifically precise drawings, and plans for a tablet-based game are in the works. In the meantime, she’s taking her message on the road to help kids look beyond the shiny wrapper of their favorite chocolate bar to how it relates to the larger ecosystem.
“I always wanted to take the book to the real world,” she says. Eight workshops have taken place, hosted by Bay Area institutions like Sprouts Cooking Club, Dandelion Chocolate, Hidden Villa, C.J. Olson Cherries, and several local elementary schools. She’s now talking to one elementary school about developing a multi-session version, a middle school would like a workshop adapted for older kids, and The Northwest Chocolate Festival in Seattle has commissioned a version for grown-ups this November.
On a bright July morning at Alemany Farm in San Francisco, a community garden oasis of kale beds and buzzing pollinators just off the freeway, fifteen kids in a week-long food-themed summer camp with the non-profit Sprouts Cooking Club gather under the willow trees to put her theory to the test. The class kicks off with a sharing circle on a topic they can all get passionate about: What’s your favorite chocolate?
From there, the story opens up. The truth is probably weirder than what the kids imagined. Chocolate starts as the agricultural product cacao, which grows as big, brightly colored pods hanging right off the tree’s trunk and branches.
“It was used as money,” a boy announces with his newfound knowledge “because it’s so good.”
A mix-and-match game of ingredients and package labels lets the kids figure out what they’re really eating. What’s in a natural chocolate bar? What’s in your favorite bar, and what in the world are TBHQ and PGPR? Both chemical compounds make industrial chocolate production cheaper, but they’re nothing you want to eat.
[quote position="full" is_quote="false"]It was used as money, because it’s so good. [/quote]
“We want to engage kids in understanding the complex web of sustainable supply chains, healthy snacks, ecosystems, and the history and biology of the foods they eat,” says Rasine.
The hands-on portion of the class is lead by Jonas Ketterle, founder of Firefly Chocolate in Sebastopol, California, who left a career in engineering to devote himself fulltime to “bean to bar” chocolate. The kids are eager to meet chocolate in its elemental state, and get to something they can eat. First, they have to peel off the cacao bean’s shell to extract the nib, which is a lot harder than it looks. Next, Ketterle shows the kids how to grind the nibs the way they’ve been done for centuries, using a stone metate. Then Ketterle mixes the pulverized nibs with honey, since cacao on its own is not at all sweet.
Grinding the nibs into a fine paste takes a lot more muscle power and time than the kids can give, but no one is put off by the gritty texture. They clamor for seconds and thirds until the bowl is clean. What they get to taste is a long way from the candy they know.
“Dark chocolate spices me out!” exclaims one girl between bites; yet the unfamiliar taste of pure chocolate takes people to a deeper understanding.
“Natural foods have a mythology because they come from the earth,” says Rasine. “Early civilizations were inspired by what the earth offered. But who’s ever heard a fable about PGPR? Chemicals aren’t part of the story, and they shouldn't be part of our food.”
Wiman hiding her face behind a bunch of cashCanva
A mansion and its reflection in the swimming poolCanva
Salzburg at nightCanva
Fancy homeCanva
Happy volunteersCanva
Parents of young children get more time with them if they work from home.Photo credit: Canva
Juicy subject matter
Giphy from The Blacklist.
We could start a rumor.
Grieving couple comforting each other
This response to someone grieving a friend might be the best internet comment ever
When someone is hit with the sudden loss of a friend or loved one, words rarely feel like enough. Yet, more than a decade ago, a wise Redditor named GSnow shared thoughts so profound they still bring comfort to grieving hearts today.
Originally posted around 2011, the now-famous reply was rediscovered when Upvoted, an official Reddit publication, featured it again to remind everyone of its enduring truth. It began as a simple plea for help: “My friend just died. I don't know what to do.”
What followed was a piece of writing that many consider one of the internet’s best comments of all time. It remains shared across social media, grief forums, and personal messages to this day because its honesty and metaphor speak to the raw reality of loss and the slow, irregular path toward healing.
Below is GSnow’s full reply, unchanged, in all its gentle, wave-crashing beauty:
Why this advice still matters
Mental health professionals and grief counselors often describe bereavement in stages or phases, but GSnow’s “wave theory” gives an image more relatable for many. Rather than a linear process, grief surges and retreats—sometimes triggered by a song, a place, or a simple morning cup of coffee.
In recent years, this metaphor has found renewed relevance. Communities on Reddit, TikTok, and grief support groups frequently reshare it to help explain the unpredictable nature of mourning.
Many readers say this analogy helps them feel less alone, giving them permission to ride each wave of grief rather than fight it.
Finding comfort in shared wisdom
Since this comment first surfaced, countless people have posted their own stories underneath it, thanking GSnow and passing the words to others facing fresh heartbreak. It’s proof that sometimes, the internet can feel like a global support group—strangers linked by shared loss and hope.
For those searching for more support today, organizations like The Dougy Center, GriefShare, and local bereavement groups offer compassionate resources. If you or someone you know is struggling with intense grief, please reach out to mental health professionals who can help navigate these deep waters.
When grief comes crashing like the ocean, remember these words—and hang on. There is life between the waves.
This article originally appeared four years ago.