You'd have to be nearly illiterate not to know that we've got an epidemic on our hands. A big, fat epidemic.
The statistics are frightening: according to the
CDC, about 1 in 3 of us is obese, and another 1 in 3 are overweight, making America a nation of people overwhelmingly struggling with those extra pounds. And nearly everywhere we look, there are articles, headlines, and public service announcements about these facts and the things we can do to tackle them. I hear a public service announcement regularly on the local Philly hip-hop station about 25 small things you can do to be more fit. The information about how devastating this is for America, both in terms of health and finances, is all around us. And I think it is something that we need to discuss real solutions for, especially for our children, because diabetes and high blood pressure are no joke.
But talking about it as individuals and how to tackle it is somehow harder/more awkward, especially if we are addressing it across racial communities.
Marvel and I were having a conversation recently after I read
this article from the opinion section of the
New York Times entitled "Why Black Women Are Fat." It spits the absolutely alarming statistic that 4 out of 5 black women are "seriously overweight" (not sure if this is a euphemism for obese or just a term that Alice Randall is using here to indicate the severity of the situation). Randall also makes the claim that "many black women are fat because we want to be." She notes, as I've stated before from my observations in the urban classroom and living in Philly, that curves (particularly of the variety that people write songs about in an
array of genres, such as "Baby Got Back" and "Honky Tonk Badonkadonk") are necessary to black beauty. While black fat and white fat can cause diseases in just the same way, one of them is culturally prized while the other is culturally reviled.
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| how black women feel about fat thighs (I can only assume Minaj speaks for everyone) |
She also tackles the fact that black fat bodies can be a site of cultural resistance to white standards, a nice and silent "fuck you" to the man. And yet, Randall still concludes that black families need to change their culture around food and exercise, both to save themselves and also to save our country money we are using for healthcare to treat the effects of obesity, money that could be better applied to struggling schools and communities.
One question that has come out of discussing this with Marvel and wrestling over it in my mind: as a white woman, raised very much in an environment and in a household that praised thin bodies and
slender physiques as "healthy," do I have a right to bring up the discussion of obesity in the black community? Or am I implicitly saying that white beauty trumps black beauty?
Marvel has raised the point that heart disease (often a result of obesity) is more linked to poverty than to ANY other risk factor (including diet, exercise, and smoking). So in addressing the effects of obesity on our country in terms of health and stressing out the healthcare system, we might do better to also pay attention to the effects of long-term poverty on our population instead of ignoring it and blaming people for their choices as if they happen in a vacuum. Having lived very briefly in an economically distressed area of North Philadelphia, I can attest to the fact that food deserts are very real. There are few choices for decent grocery stores providing fresh produce at affordable prices or gyms in places where people are often without transportation or access to resources. Sure, you could go for a nice jog outside, but it's hard to do that if you live in a dangerous neighborhood with crumbling sidewalks.
In this conversation, I'm not endorsing white beauty as better. Can the white standard of beauty contribute to the development of healthy habits? Sure. If the pursuit of a flatter stomach means you're doing cardio three times a week and shying away from fast food, that's certainly better for your health than not doing those things. White beauty can also lead to incredibly unhealthy habits, as I've experienced myself through nine years of anorexia, bulimia, and over-exercising. But it's tricky to endorse aspects of the white beauty standard without implying that other standards are less than or unhealthy or lacking somehow.
At the core of it,
all beauty standards could use the addition of this to them: healthy. Natural. Not contrived or dangerous or exaggerated or extreme.
What say you? Can we talk about obesity, especially across racial communities, without shaming or criticizing? Do we even need to talk about it?
Much love,
The Sheriff
PS--follow on Twitter @ff_sheriff
