How to Recenter Equity + Decenter Thinness in the Fight for Food Justice

 
 

While working in public health and around other professionals concerned about the existence of food deserts, or food apartheid as coined by activist Karen Washington, I’ve been struck by the ongoing alliance between those who advocate for food equity and those who consider themselves soldiers in the ongoing “war on obesity”. The panic about food inequity is often justified through the relationship between higher weight and “food deserts”. The common line of reasoning is that marginalized people who don’t have access to “healthy” food are more likely to be fat, which causes them to be sicker and die earlier. The motivation of food equity advocates, especially those in public health, then becomes irreparably tied to a desire to make marginalized people thinner instead of holistically addressing their health and nutritional needs. The fight for food access becomes another way to enforce a narrow standard of acceptable body types.

This ongoing disconnect has been primarily enabled by fatphobia, or the hatred and fear of fatness. It is a historically-rootedracism-driven notion that fat bodies are physiologically and morally deficient; and it is present in almost every inch of public health research, advocacy, and practice. Fatphobia has long allowed for public health to label fat bodies as obstacles to a healthier tomorrow, as being unworthy of respect or safety. As a result, fat people are only deemed worthy of humane treatment when they are actively trying to shrink themselves.

As a doctoral student in public health, I try to explain to food equity advocates that nourishing under-resourced communities cannot be done in the spirit of paternalism or correction. I know this because I have personally witnessed the harm done by outsiders that don’t bother to hide their disdain at fat poor people and what they eat. I grew up in the Bronx and have lived in a fat body for 23 years. I will never forget the irregular farmers’ markets that became popular nutrition and food access interventions during my childhood. A few days a week for a few hours, a bunch of small booths with produce would open for sale to the public. These markets never lasted in one place for long; they were barely affordable, and almost always came with a few white people handing out brochures on “healthy eating” in English and Spanish. There was never any investment into community-led responses to food inequities, like urban farming or cooperative grocery stores. Instead, there was a constant emphasis on dictating to fat people of color how to eat “the right way” — or, put plainly, in accordance with white supremacist food ideals. Nurturing the community is rarely the point of these short-sighted initiatives. The point is to remind fat people the way they live their lives is fundamentally deficient and that they must alter their lifestyles if they want to become worthy of equitable food access.

For too long, fatphobia has derailed the real purpose of social justice work in the food access and equity space. By measuring the success of food access programs through weight loss or idealized body sizes, fatness has become framed as the underlying problem — instead of historical systems of inequity preventing communities from thriving. Demonizing fat people implicitly designates thin people as inherently superior on the singular basis of weight, which creates a hierarchy that justifies the mistreatment and abuse of fat people. Building a truly inclusive future requires us to dismantle this hierarchy and the institutions that uphold it.

Consider BronxWorks’ SNAP Nutrition Education and Obesity Prevention program, which aims to promote health among Bronx residents through nutrition education, grocery store tours, and interventions that consist of widening the array of nutritious foods available in Bronx bodegas. In 2019, BronxWorks was awarded over $600,000 to use for this program by the New York State Office of Temporary and Disability Assistance. It was one of 16 nonprofit organizations to receive part of a $12.9 million pot of federal funding, with the goal of “helping low-income and working-class New Yorkers avoid obesity and chronic nutrition-related diseases” by “improving food resource management and preparation skills among participants, while also increasing access to affordable and nutritious foods”.

If criticizing the lifestyles of fat people was not such a priority, how much further could the funding BronxWorks received, as well as the rest of the $12.9 million, go? What community-driven solutions could be supported? BronxWorks has two pantries in the Bronx that operate twice a month. How could access to and operation of these pantries be expanded if we ceased to fund weight-centric initiatives that place the burden of social ills like food apartheid on individuals who are just trying to survive? This is how institutions at all levels use fatphobia to set health-promoting agendas and further the notion that fat, poor marginalized people are not capable enough to take care of themselves.

With fatphobia’s hold on all of us, decentering thinness and recentering equity can feel like an impossible, uncomfortable feat. But it’s doable. Here’s how to start:

  • The first step is to ask yourself: Do I want everyone to have access to all food or do I want everyone to be thin?

To truly work towards food equity, we have to work towards everyone having access to all foods — from the normatively “healthy” to the normatively “unhealthy”. Food equity cannot be conditional upon what one person or organization believes fat people should be eating more or less of. The existence of differential access to food is the problem and is evidence of a longer history of inequality that should be the primary concern of all working in the food equity space.

  • Next, for those who help mobilize food access initiatives, it is crucial that you reconsider how you are evaluating the effectiveness of your work.

Does your work make people in the community feel more confident about their ability to stay fed and nourished? Does your work help people in the community feel less stressed? Does your work help people in the community feel more empowered? Are you providing community members an opportunity to actively shape their neighborhood? Food equity is not about weight loss or learning how to eat “correctly”. It is about meeting a crucial human need that is threatened by inequality, racism, capitalism, and imperialism.

  • Then, as you reconsider how to evaluate the effectiveness of your work, reimagine your short- and long-term outcomes as steps towards food sovereignty.

Instead of working towards a future where a community is thinner or has altered their culturally-rooted foodways to suit white palates, understand that outcomes should ultimately be geared towards addressing issues like food apartheid at the root.

In order to truly work towards a future where communities are well-nourished through justice-centered means, outcomes need to build towards food sovereignty, a sustainable, ecologically sound food system that centers the autonomy and rights of communities to own the land, means, and methods of producing what they consume. Outcomes that work towards food sovereignty involve actions like land acquisition, farmer training, and the promotion of community-owned food markets, as well as preserving the knowledge of traditional community foodways.

The work of fat liberation activists has been crucial to recentering equity and decentering thinness in my own work. I recommend you start your reading with these pieces:

First published on Medium

Previous
Previous

Wegovy Isn’t A “Game Changer”, But An Update.

Next
Next

Fat Girls of Color Grow Up Too Fast