When I got an email asking me if I wanted to contribute to an upcoming book called Rage Baking, I had one major concern: did they want me to submit a recipe? I am not that kind of mommy. My recipe for cinnamon rolls goes like this: 

Step 1: Buy a tube of cinnamon rolls. 

Step 2: Peel off the cinnamon roll tube wrapping and pierce the pressurized cardboard tube with a spoon, wincing. 

Step 3: Bake. At what temperature? For how long? I don’t fucking know, check the label on the TUBE, people. 

But the author who emailed me said she had the recipes covered, which meant all I needed to contribute was the rage. That, I could do. 

I was thrilled to join a diverse group of bakers, artists, feminists, and all-around kickass group of women in celebrating the power of women in their element, whatever that element may be. I emailed her back. I was in.

What I didn’t know then, and have since learned, is that rage baking as activism, or channeling pain into healing acts of nurturing, nourishment, and community care, has a deep history in the kitchens of Black women and other women of color. 

I wish I’d known, or had the presence of mind to look into the legacy of baking as activism. If I had, I would have learned the name Tangerine Jones. 

Tangerine Jones is a baker, performance artist, activist, and community pillar in Brooklyn. And she’s been Rage Baking to nourish the spirits of the most marginalized among us, both in person and on her Instagram feed (@ragebaking) and blog (ragebaking.com) since 2015. 

“You can bake alone or with folks, but whatever you make must be shared, preferably with strangers.

Pass it out. Mail it. Throw a party.  Take it to the nearest shelter. Set up a #ragebaking stand. However, you do it, spread the love and make sure folks know what’s in it so you don’t kill anyone with food allergies.”

- The Fundamentals of Rage Baking, by Tangerine Jones

Tangerine Jones needs no one to speak for her, so I’m going to pause here and ask you to read her response to the book that I contributed to: The Privilege of Rage. Come back when you’re done.

I imagine what it would feel like, as a fellow online content creator who shows up every day trying to do the best possible job of telling true, funny, good stories for the people she happens to meet through her work, if a man told me he was publishing a book called KatyKatiKate, a book full of essays about feminism and parenting, that he in no way intended to take away from the work I’ve been doing since 2013.

To paraphrase Billy Madison, bro, your intentions don’t put the Triscuit crackers in my stomach, do they?

“If you’re ragebaking with folks, everyone must bring something to contribute.

Whether it be the recipe, baking pans, ingredients, music to ragebake to, hands to cleanup or love. Remember that not all contributions are the kind bought with money. Work together and work it out.  Take turns. It’s all hands in and hearts on.”

- The Fundamentals of Rage Baking, by Tangerine Jones

In the family of rage bakers, women who use their gifts to nourish the beleaguered, uplift the weary, and feed the hungry, Tangerine’s voice belongs at the head of the table. At least, she speaks from the head of mine.

“I’m a Black woman born and partly raised in the South. Kitchens are sacred, powerful spaces to me. They are places of history and healing, of community and connection, of resistance and revolution, of transformation and truth. I’ve been taught that they hold the heart of a home and, collectively, the pulse of a community. For me, kitchens are a place for alchemy and renewal.”

- The Privilege of Rage, by Tangerine Jones

And when the voice at the head of the table asks you for something, you do it. Tangerine asked for fair recognition, and for support of three organizations she loves: the Ali Forney Center, The Brooklyn Community Bail Fund, and The Campaign against Hunger.

I did one of those things the night she published her post. I’m doing the other one now.

I often tell people that every person has the weight of history on them at all times, whether they’re aware of it or not. When a nice guy approaches me in a dark parking lot, he has the weight of history on his shoulders. He’s not just Steve. He’s a guy in a dark parking lot. He scares the shit out of me. 

In the last two weeks, I’ve read about the Thirst Aid Kit podcast, hosted by Bim Adewunmi and Nichole Perkins—a podcast that was a major force popularizing the idea of female desire as thirst—losing guests to go on white guy podcasts and talk about… their thirst. I read about Jalaiah Harmon’s the Renegade, a viral TikTok dance that is taking the internet by storm and, in too many circles, leaving its creator out of the entire conversation. 

I have the weight of history on me.

I am a white person who leapt without first learning, fell in love with something without understanding the context of its genesis, and unknowingly but still definitely trod upon the hard, meaningful, valuable work of a Black woman.

And if I am the reason you heard about Rage Baking the book, then please, please, please let me be one of the people who continues to amplify the work of Tangerine Jones, a remarkable woman who Rage Bakes as an act of revolutionary love and healing, and who is the voice at the head of my table. 

“One truth about baking is that you can start with a good recipe and the best of intentions, but the outcome isn’t always promised. So many things are out of your control. You basically put everything together the best way you know how and wait to see how it’s all going to turn out. Sometimes you succeed and everything is as intended. Sometimes it doesn’t and you’re pleasantly surprised with the results. Other times it’s a disaster and you take the L, glean what you can from the mistakes and start again. The lesson you learn in the end is how to adapt and move with change, but most importantly, to keep trying. In my kitchen, I was reminded that I wasn’t powerless in the face of f**kery. That fury is fuel, sorrow can be turned into joy and that there is power, strength and resilience in coming together in even the smallest of ways.”

- The Privilege of Rage, by Tangerine Jones

I am following Tangerine everywhere I can, and if she decides to start a Patreon or other fundraising platform for her personal work, I’ll be the first one signing up to support her.

Please follow her, celebrate her, and support her.

PS - I’m deeply thankful for every reader who asked me for accountability. Thank you for waiting for this post. You are the best.