My college history teacher said:
white flour fed oppression—
a false staple that starved nations
while filling the conqueror’s plate

Empty offerings persist,
served now on Styrofoam:
flimsy triangles of dough,
sides of ranch dressing,
class sets with covers that read
Of Mice and…,
corners curled, pages thinning—
a curriculum worn down
to a narrow canon

classrooms frigid in winter,
stifling in early summer.

Test scores declare:
they can’t read,
think,
write.

The same flat basketballs
sail through netless hoops—
generations unaware
of their bleached existence

I think again
of something sweet,
ordinary,
mistaken for care—

white flour.

– Eric Roller

Author’s Note: For the past twenty-seven years, I have worked within the American educational system. During that time, I have come to understand that inequality is not accidental—it is structured, sustained, and often subtle. History offers a clear example of this. In the United States, federal policies toward Native communities—often administered through the Bureau of Indian Affairs—disrupted traditional ways of life by replacing Indigenous food systems with government-issued rations such as white flour, sugar, and lard.

These changes carried cultural consequences that continue to resonate. As an educator, I am struck by how closely this pattern mirrors what I see in schools today. Many current policies and practices, whether intentionally or not, contribute to inequitable outcomes and disproportionately affect certain groups of students. White Flour is a reflection on these parallels—on how systemic disruptions persist, even as they take on new forms.