Ronni Kahn On Finding Your Power
You always know when Ronni Kahn is in the house. The founder and CEO of food rescue charity, OzHarvest, is instantly recognisable thanks to her silver crop, her chunky jewellery and that bubbling laugh, which is never too far away.
So it is notable that in her new memoir, A Repurposed Life, there are multiple Ronni Kahns on display, none of whom is the slightest bit familiar. The little girl who worshipped the boy who bullied her. The high schooler who gave up dreams of studying art or architecture when her parents told her she didn’t have the talent. The young South African woman who moved to an Israeli kibbutz because her boyfriend decided they should.
How did a woman so unsure of herself and her talents become the dynamic, driven woman who founded a charity that rescues more than 180 tonnes of food each week to feed the hungry?
“I learnt to trust myself, and that was a journey that took many, many years,” Ronni says. “I didn’t know how to find my power as a young person, nobody gave me that opportunity and when they did, I balked. When my school principal said to me, ‘You could be school captain,’ I said, ‘Ah, you’re nuts’ and ran away from it.”
So what changed things for Ronni? The unlikely answer is: a haircut. In her book, she recounts a fateful trip to the hairdresser at age 23 when – without any consultation – the hairdresser gave her an Afro-inspired perm, a transformation that changed her life. “I walked back into the kibbutz that day, and people who had passed me a million times on the path and never greeted me stopped in their tracks and said, ‘Wow!’” she writes.
“The truth is I looked at myself and saw somebody different. It was a moment that lit me up,” she says. “When other people suddenly noticed me, it made me notice how unnoticed I had been.”
It’s a feeling that many women will be familiar with. “We are conditioned to be unheard, even the most heard of us – our society is just so skewed towards not empowering women,” Ronni says. “We need to trust how powerful we are. You’ve got to be inspired by young women like Greta [Thunberg], like Malala [Yousafzai].
“It would have been much easier if it hadn’t taken half my life until I got there, but not only do I have no regrets – if I hadn’t done it all I wouldn’t be where I am now.”
Ronni’s path has certainly had its twists, leading her from Israel to Australia, from running a florist to building up a successful events business to starting her own charity to writing her memoir. Unlike some memoirs, however, this is not a shout of triumph; rather, it’s an appeal to readers to realise that they, too, are capable of achieving just about anything once they find their own power.
“We all have innate power. When we can tap into that, extraordinary things can be unleashed,” Ronni says. “It doesn’t have to be starting a charity. I found my calling in starting OzHarvest, but every single one of us can find the power we need to do whatever it is we should be doing.”
The story of OzHarvest’s founding back in 2004 is well known: how Ronni realised the vast quantities of food being wasted at her events could be put to better use, how she started delivering leftovers to charity, how she got more people involved, collecting food from other organisations including supermarkets and how it grew from there.
What her memoir reveals is the secret sauce in Ronni’s approach: her ability to motivate people to want to be part of something worthwhile, her understanding that inspiration is just as important as organisation.
Take the supermarkets from which OzHarvest collects surplus food. Early on, Ronni realised that the quality of what was collected depended on the supermarket staff. Some would store their surplus carefully; others would simply dump it. Her solution? She met with the managers and shared some letters that she had received from people in need. The letters, which moved her audience to tears, had an immediate effect.
“I think it was the first time that they had put two and two together – that their food made all the difference in the world to so many people. The behaviour in those stores changed after that day. The amount of food was consistent, there was lots of it, it was beautiful quality and it was easy to collect.”
As OzHarvest has grown, its services have expanded. Beyond food rescue, the organisation also runs Australia’s first rescued food supermarket as well as a range of education programs including Nourish, which trains and mentors at-risk young people through hospitality industry training. It is one of Ronni’s proudest achievements.
“When I see the kids, how they walk in, stumbling, and later walk out with their heads held high … I just need one of those kids to know I’m making a difference,” she says. “Putting food in people’s tummies is fundamental, but this, this is what gets me excited.”
Not that Ronni Kahn is resting on her laurels. She is already thinking about what may come next which may include finally studying architecture. “I still think I’d like to do architecture, but I’m not making any plans. The joy is letting it unfold, in seeing what might present itself.”
In the meantime she continues to act as a mentor, is in demand as a public speaker and aligns herself with organisations that resonate with her core values. Then there’s spending time with her grandchildren. “In four years I got six grandchildren, when I didn’t have any before and I was simply dying to have some.”
Our interview is drawing to a close but there is one topic I still want to delve into: men. Her memoir deals forthrightly with the various relationships in her past including one, with a man she calls Anton, that she looks back on with regret. It is a brave act of revelation, but Ronni says, “it was totally thrilling to put myself on the line”. Was she ever tempted to edit some of the detail out? “Half the book!” she laughs. “Particularly that chapter on Anton, which became the only thing people wanted to focus on.”
It’s not the break-up with Anton that intrigues me most, but the ending of her last relationship. That relationship foundered after Ronni went from colouring her hair to wearing her silver hair proudly – something her partner couldn’t cope with. I’m amazed by the fact that, for a second time, her hair changed her life trajectory, and even more amazed by the fact that a man could find grey hair so confronting. It’s gobsmacking, I say.
“Totally gobsmacking,” she agrees cheerfully. “He’s an awesome guy, and I knew that looks were important to him, but it never occurred to me that [my going grey] represented so much fear for him. It reflected to him that he was getting older.”
Not that she regrets it. Ronni Kahn doesn’t do regret.
“This is the first time in my life I’ve been alone, and it’s my time to learn how to be alone and not be lonely – and it’s been an incredibly enriching and empowering experience.”
Words_ Ute Junker
Images_ Hugh Stewart