Address racism, food access, and classism, not an “obesity epidemic”

Recently, I started observing the differences between my surroundings when I shop at HEB versus when I shop at Walmart. HEB is a grocery store chain in Texas — equivalent to Whole Foods or Balducci’s — with stores mainly found in the wealthy suburbs. I rarely see anyone besides white and Asian people in these stores, with a majority of them being in small to medium-sized bodies. In Walmart, which are generally far from many of the aforementioned suburbs, I notice that the primary demographic is Black and Latino folks, many of whom are in larger bodies. The evident disparity in race and body size can’t simply be a coincidence.  

Many of us are familiar with the reasons why a grocery store in a less wealthy community may have a different customer base than a high-end grocery store in a wealthier area. Our cruel past of redlining and white flight leading to a stark disparity in the racial makeup of areas right next to each other has been taught to many of us in our history classes. But, what went unnoticed for me — and often does for many others — are the disparities in access to certain foods and movement options that coincide with socioeconomic divisions. 

Suburbs were created for wealthier Americans to move out of cities considered “crowded, dirty, and dangerous.” Those with access to the transportation to move out as well as the money to afford single-family homes moved into suburbs. The immigrant background of many Latino households and the historically discriminated nature of Black households meant that a significant portion of these families were low-income or impoverished and unable to afford the transportation and housing needed to live in suburbs. In addition to that, around the time when suburbs were created, the Federal Housing Administration required that houses in suburbs not be sold to African Americans because they believed that the property value of the homes declined if African Americans bought and lived in them. The makeup of cities, where the quality of living was very low, became predominantly Black and Latino as a result. 

This inequality traveled into food access as well. The goods at stores like Whole Foods and HEB are higher quality and fresher than those that you would find at Walmart or Sam’s Club, for example, and also significantly more expensive. The correlation between the types of goods available at these stores and their location makes it evident that those in low-income neighborhoods aren’t getting sufficient access to quality nutrition.  

In my experience, pre-made, cheaper meal options provided at high-end grocery stores are of great variety, typically balanced with carbs, proteins, and fats. Many cheap, quick meal options at grocery stores in underprivileged communities are typically made up of only one food group, making it difficult for people to get all the nutrients they need. And these are simply the differences that are seen. 

This comparison isn’t only tangible in areas where grocery stores exist. In reality, there are many areas where the situation of access to nutrient-rich food is even worse, where even access to grocery stores at all is a luxury.

The phrase “food desert” has been thrown around by many news outlets and politicians these days. But, what does it truly mean? A food desert is, simply put, a geographic area where residents do not have access to supermarkets or grocery stores.

The University of Texas at San Antonio published a study which reported that individuals who are food insecure and living in food deserts are at an elevated risk for “obesity.” When taking gender and race into account, the study found that women are more likely to exhibit “obesity” as a result of food insecurity. This is because women are found to often shield their children from food insecurity by reducing their own nutritional intake. Black and Latino households were also at a higher risk for food insecurity in the United States as indicated in this study. This occurs because, due to redlining, these groups of people have been pushed into areas where grocery stores or food buying options are not sufficiently available.

We see videos and documentaries such as “Fed Up” and “Food Inc” scaring us into thinking that fatness is an epidemic that can only be stopped if individuals change their behaviors. These videos tell fat people that their body size is not only a fault, but also something universally changeable. If they only cook things at home and eat more produce, everything will be fixed and all of their problems will be solved. This content is fatphobic and elitist. It assumes that everyone has the same access to everything. 

The recommendations often provided by doctors and the media include eating food as fresh as possible, eating more home cooked meals, eating more whole grains and sugars like honey, and eating 5-6 meals a day to keep your metabolism strong. Not all of these recommendations are problematic, but what is problematic is the assumptions they make.

What if you live in a food desert and your only access to a grocery store comes in the form of a corner store? They don’t sell produce and when they do it is extremely expensive. Okay, you may think, then drive to your nearest chain grocery store. But, what if you don’t own a car? What if even if you do get access to the ingredients you need to cook at home, you don’t have the space, utensils, or knowledge. Internet access to recipes isn’t everyone’s luxury, a working stove with gas isn’t always available, and a pot to cook the lean meat and vegetables a doctor recommended isn’t the cheapest to get. 

The issue is not people’s lack of control, self-discipline, or an “obsession” with food. The issue is the blame game our medical system, government, and society play every day. Our government continues to make declarations inciting fear and teaching us to shame everyone we see in a larger body for “ruining their health.” 

But, society forgets to consider three factors when it plays this blame game. First, that there is nothing wrong with living in a larger body. “Obesity” is a social construct, not reality. Rather than conducting scientific studies to come to a conclusion, the process was reversed: we came to a conclusion based on society’s ideals — fat is bad — and then propagated twisted science to support it. 

Second, that access to food is a basic human right. When we blame people for their food-related health issues and forget to look at the underlying causes—we essentially ignore the fact that a significant part of the population is not having their right to food fulfilled. 10% of households were food insecure in 2021—the same percentage as 2020. Not only is the problem not being addressed, but its effects are being blamed on the people who are struggling from it.

Third, and probably most significant, that our government, health institutions, and society cannot shame fat people and incite fear about an “obesity epidemic” while the inaccuracies of the data used for this fear-mongering is ignored. It is up to the government and to corporations to fix our history of inequity and redlining. And it is up to the government to stop pushing this classist notion of an “obesity epidemic.”