“Art as Connection: Embracing Community Through Social Practice”

”It’s easy to fall into that ‘never enough’ mindset, constantly questioning if you’re putting in everything you can. It’s something I’ve always struggled with as an artist, and I’m still learning to redefine my relationship with work.”

– Jeannine Shinoda

What comes to mind when you think of art? For many, traditional forms like painting or sculpture may still be the first images. Yet, art has evolved—just as medicine and technology have. Social practice often takes forms that may not be immediately recognized as art. Practitioners work across roles, acting as administrators, activists, educators, or community organizers, and sometimes even question whether they are better suited to fields like sociology or politics. Pablo Helguera describes this “discomfort” as the ideal place for this art form, challenging us to expand our ideas of what art can be.

I had known about the long-standing nonprofit Ikoi No Kai well before meeting its director, Jeannine Shinoda. For over 45 years, Ikoi No Kai has served the Japanese American community in Portland through its lunch program. They provide Japanese meals on Tuesdays and Thursdays, with mostly Asian-influenced dishes on Mondays and Fridays. All meals are prepared from scratch, often incorporating donations such as fresh salmon or garden-grown cucumbers.

I met Jeannine earlier this year at the Art and Zine Fest at Reed College when she stopped by our PSU MFA Art and Social Practice booth. I was intrigued by the idea of an artist serving as the director of a community organization supporting Japanese elders. This connection led to a collaborative event in the summer of 2024, where visiting Japanese artists and I engaged with the community at Ikoi No Kai. The collaboration was a tremendous success, and through this experience, I came to admire Jeannine’s approach and sensitivity even more.

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Midori Yamanaka : First of all, how did you get started working at Ikoi No Kai? And how long have you been working here?                                  

Jeannine Shinoda: I first discovered Ikoi No Kai in 2019 after moving back to Portland, motivated by a desire to immerse myself in the local food scene. I was curious about the types of food being celebrated here, so I attended a JACL(Japanese American Citizens League) meeting, drawn by the promise of a special bento. During the meeting, I met Setsy Sadamoto Larouche, a long-time board member of the Japanese Ancestral Society, who introduced me to Ikoi No Kai, describing it as “the best unknown restaurant in town.” Intrigued, I visited and enjoyed the experience so much that I began returning regularly, sometimes as often as once a week.

At some point, I heard they were looking for a site manager. Initially, I wasn’t interested since my main focus was fine dining and creative food work in a restaurant setting. I continued on that path, but when the pandemic hit in 2020, things changed. Partway through, Setsy reached out again, mentioning the position was still open. By then, I was in a different place in my life and open to new possibilities. Though it was a part-time role and didn’t fully align with my initial career goals, I felt it would be a rewarding experience that would bring positive energy into my life. So, I applied and began working at Ikoi No Kai, not entirely sure what to expect, but confident that it would be meaningful.

Midori: Interesting. So, you’ve been working here for almost four years now?

Jeannine: Almost—it’s been about three and a half years.

Midori: You started as a part-time site manager, but now you’re the Director in a full-time capacity. What changes have taken place over these three and a half years?

Jeannine:  I began writing grants right from the start, recognizing their importance for funding as a nonprofit. Securing grants became a way to bring in resources, and once I raised enough, I proposed shifting to a full-time role. With the funding in place, I transitioned to working here full-time.

Midori: So, you essentially created your own position here!

Jeannine: Yes, in a way. I turned the role into a full-time position by securing enough funding through grants. A part-time role just wasn’t sustainable for me, so I essentially funded my own full-time position.

Midori: Impressive! You began with grant writing, but now you’re doing so much more. How did the role evolve in such a short time?

Jeannine: When I started, we were still closed due to the pandemic, so I had to relaunch nearly everything from scratch—buying supplies, finding volunteers, and managing many shifts that had occurred during the closure. Remarkably, though, everyone wanted to return—chefs and volunteers alike. We didn’t lose many people, and they all knew exactly what to do when we reopened. The existing systems were so strong and well-liked that things almost ran themselves. It was incredible to see the community’s dedication and how well everything functioned, thanks to the foundation that had been laid even before I joined.

Midori: Everyone passed down their knowledge to you, so no experience was lost even after a year and a half of closure.

Jeannine: Exactly. I started part-time, with an interim site manager who had worked here before the pandemic training me for a couple of months. From there, I thought, “This is wonderful; how can I make this work for me?” That’s when I began securing outside funding. Each grant allowed me to launch different projects, like the oral history project*, and I would write proposals for anything new I wanted to bring to life without using funds set aside for the lunch program**. If I received the grant, I’d make the project happen.

*Oral History Project records and preserves the personal histories of Japanese Americans who have lived in the Portland region for many years, capturing their stories in their own words. These recordings are available online here. 

**The Lunch Program, Ikoi No Kai’s main initiative for over 45 years, provides freshly prepared Japanese and Asian-inspired meals four times a week, fostering community connections and cultural exchange.

Midori: You’re not just the site manager anymore; you’re really cultivating new initiatives and a culture here.

Jeannine: I realized I wanted to direct the program. I see myself orchestrating things and helping them happen, which led to my transition from site manager to director. It was an evolution, defining how I view myself in this role and what I wanted my title to reflect.

Midori: It sounds like you’ve really made this space your own, bringing a fresh perspective that honors the community’s roots while also encouraging growth and new ideas.

Jeannine: Yes. We have a committee here, like a board, and I approached them about officially designating myself as director. They agreed, and I took on the title. As an outsider to this community—unlike many members who have lifelong ties to Portland or whose families have been involved for generations—I saw untapped potential here. The richness of this community, along with the warmth, energy, and generosity, truly inspired me. I began envisioning what we could achieve together and felt motivated to explore new possibilities.

There’s an incredible range of talents among the people here; many have led vibrant lives and have so much to offer. I’m always open to collaboration and welcome others’ ideas, supporting them whenever I can. One of my goals is to create an inclusive, welcoming environment where we can explore and develop what the community truly wants.

Midori: It seems like this role is a great fit for you—you enjoy it so much. But I wonder, has there been any significant challenge you’ve faced in this role?

Jeannine: The biggest challenge is finding the balance between how much of myself I can give to this job and what I reserve for myself. The work here demands a lot of social energy, which I put fully into being present and engaged with the community. This means that when I’m home, I don’t have the same energy to entertain or socialize privately, which is a trade-off I’ve accepted for now. I’ve chosen to dedicate that energy here, and while I enjoy it, it’s a balance I need to manage.

Midori: I find that really interesting. Balancing personal and professional life can be so difficult, especially in nonprofit work. When I worked in a nonprofit, it was more than just a job—it was deeply personal. My daughter and I were both so involved, and I often found myself overworking without even…

Jeannine: Thinking about it?

Midori: Exactly!

Jeannine: It’s easy to give so much without realizing the toll it can take. Everything flows so naturally, especially since these projects are passion projects. But that’s the challenge for artists—knowing when to stop. Boundaries become blurred when you’re managing your passions, identity, and the extent of your investment. Where does the project end, and where do you begin?

Midori: How do you set those boundaries between your passion and maintaining a sustainable, healthy lifestyle?

Jeannine: It’s really challenging. When I first started, I was so exhausted by the job that I couldn’t do anything else. I’d be completely overwhelmed and just lay on the floor at home, too overstimulated and drained to do much. There was so much to learn and manage that all I could do was get through each day. Now, I’ve realized the importance of incorporating self-care into my routine to keep a better balance.

Midori: So now you have a routine!

Jeannine: Yes, I’ve built a lot of self-care into my routine, which has helped me gradually build more capacity. Working here provides a defined space for my work, unlike when I focused solely on my own art, which could happen anytime, anywhere. Now, even though I’m passionate about what I do, it’s designated as part of my job, and I try not to bring it home with me unless it’s an emergency. I work hard while I’m here, but I leave it here, creating boundaries that weren’t always there.

Of course, there are exceptions—like submitting a grant at midnight over the holidays. Sometimes, while visiting my family out of state, I’ll work on a project and tell them I need several hours to focus. But generally, I’m careful not to let work spill over, which has really helped me maintain a balance. Otherwise, it’s easy to fall into that “never enough” mindset, constantly questioning if you’re putting in everything you can. It’s something I’ve always struggled with as an artist, and I’m still learning to redefine my relationship with work.

Midori: In recent years, I’ve also come to truly appreciate the importance of self-care and maintaining boundaries between my work and personal life. I remember being taken aback when a friend pointed this out to me at a previous job. She was an American woman who had lived in Japan for a long time, and she said, “Japanese people often struggle to draw boundaries between work and personal life, and by the time they realize it, they’re already burned out. You should be careful, too.” Looking back, I can see I was running on adrenaline and pushing myself too hard—it was a risky way to work! (laughs)

How do you practice self-care?

Jeannine: I do yoga on Sunday, Monday, and Wednesday.

Midori: Oh, wow. Do you go to a studio, or…?

Jeannine: I do it online, but it’s through a studio. So I do that. I try to make sure I spend time in nature, and I aim to do some kind of bodywork, like acupuncture or massage, every 2 to 4 weeks. I also meditate a lot, usually twice a day, for at least half an hour, and sometimes up to two and a half hours.

Midori: Wow, that’s a lot!

Let’s talk about the zine you just released, called “Homecooked – a collaborative + intergenerational zine cookbook.” I saw the opening spread, and it’s just beautiful! How did the project come together? How did it start?

Jeannine: At Ikoi No Kai, we all share a deep appreciation for heritage and food, recognizing how they connect us to our identities and histories. The idea behind “Homecooked” was to invite people to bring their favorite dishes, creating a space where everyone could share and discuss their connections to food and culture. It’s been an evolving journey, starting with strawberries and the agricultural history of strawberry picking within the community, and now focusing on home cooking and shared recipes, highlighting everyone’s favorite dishes.

About two years ago, we organized our first “Strawberry Social” event, where people shared stories about their experiences with strawberry picking in the Portland region. It was a fantastic learning experience, incorporating screen printing, storytelling, and food. From that event, we learned a lot about what we enjoyed, what didn’t work, and what we wanted to do differently in the future.

The following year, we held our first “Homecooked” event, refining the concept to make it simpler and more engaging for both us and the attendees. We wanted something relatively easy that we were passionate about and that would resonate with the community. Participants brought their favorite home-cooked recipes and memories, creating their own spreads for the zine by hand right there at the event.

Midori: That’s amazing. It sounds like this project isn’t finished yet, and you seem to have an even bigger vision than I thought.

Jeannine: Yes! We’re currently working on a dessert cookbook, which will be coming out soon. It’ll be smaller—about 50 pages—but it follows the zine ethos of capturing whatever happened in the moment, exactly as it was, no more, no less. This wasn’t something meticulously planned or scripted; it’s simply a record of a time, place, and event. I think that’s really fun, right? Each book or chapter we create will have its own unique feel, shaped by whatever is happening at the time.

Midori: That’s so exciting! I can’t wait to see the dessert cookbook. You definitely come across as a social practice artist to me, but how do you identify yourself?

Jeannine: I’m always an artist and an architect, no matter what I do. Even though I’m the director here, that identity as an artist took a long time to claim. Who gets to call themselves an artist?

Midori: Yeah, it’s hard.

Jeannine: Exactly—who gets to make that call? I think you just have to claim it for yourself and get comfortable with that. It’s part of who I am now, and I don’t need an art exhibition to validate my artistry.

Midori: True, but you identify as an artist—always. That’s just who you are.

Jeannine: Yes, but it wasn’t always that easy. Now I do, but back in 2012, at the start of grad school, I didn’t.

Midori: When did that shift happen?

Jeannine: I’m not sure. It was gradual—eventually, you just keep saying, “I’m an artist,” until it feels natural. Over time, it became something I could claim and own.

Midori: Thank you for sharing.

Jeannine: Of course. It’s not always comfortable. All of this can feel uncomfortable.

Midori: It took me a while to call myself an artist too. Even now, it’s sometimes convenient, and sometimes it’s not, because people don’t always understand what it means to be an artist.

Jeannine: Exactly. It often requires a lot of explanation, because there are so many ways to be an artist.

Midori: True.

Jeannine: It requires explanation—if people are genuinely curious, it takes some explaining. But if they’re truly interested, it doesn’t matter whether you’re an artist or not.

Midori : So true. Thank you.

Jeannine : No, thank you! 

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Jeannine Shinoda  (she/her) is an artist currently serving as the director of Ikoi No Kai, a nonprofit organization that has operated a community lunch program for over 45 years to foster connections within the Japanese American community and beyond. After teaching at Oregon College of Art and Craft and Woodbury University, Ms. Shinoda transitioned to freelance work focused on food, which eventually led her to Ikoi No Kai. She successfully elevated the program’s profile by securing grants and promoting it through social media, expanding her role into a full-time position. She holds a Bachelor of Architecture from Carnegie Mellon University and an MFA in Sculpture from the University of Wisconsin-Madison. Her deep passion for food and culture fuels her ongoing commitment to the community.

Midori Yamanaka (she/her) is an artist and educator based in Portland, Oregon, with roots in a unique Japanese town by the Okhotsk Sea. Her early life, devoid of local art museums but rich in cultural uniqueness, sparked a deep interest in community and creativity. A graduate of the Art Center College of Design in Pasadena, California, Midori has pursued a career marked by socially engaged projects and cultural exchange, leading her into the field of Art and Social Practice. Now advancing her studies at Portland State University, her work bridges cultural gaps and fosters community engagement, reflecting her ongoing exploration of art’s role in societal connection.