Like many individuals across America, I have been actively watching (and reflecting) on the rising racial tensions in cities across America. As someone who studies food systems and the interconnectedness of gastronomy with every element of our lives, I can’t help but draw connections between the past and current oppression of people of color (POC) and the inter-workings of our contemporary food system. Here’s some of the points I’ve been stewing over for the last few days:
The massive agglomeration of agricultural knowledge, skill, and capital was built on and perpetuated on the exploitation of native cultures and African slaves. Read “An Open Letter to Paula Deen,” written by black food historian and author Michael Twitty here. I don’t believe I can do this kind of topic justice, nor can I highlight the pain of having centuries of culinary history appropriated by white folx. Twitty’s book, The Cooking Gene, highlights his own sense of cultural and culinary disillusionment when he traces his ancestral roots through decades of slavery. It’s a must-read for anyone who cares about race and its connections to “soul food.” I should also add that our contemporary food system is still predicated on the exploitation of (often) immigrant labor: in farm fields, in processing plants, and in kitchens.
Farmers of color have been historically excluded from agricultural lending services issued by the U.S. government. This perpetuated a massive gap in access to capital and land for black farmers far beyond the Reconstruction era. The Pigford v. Glickman lawsuit, brought against the U.S. government for alleged racial discrimination between 1981 and 1996. Not only were black farmers flat out denied loans on the basis of race, but they also were absent from representation on almost all USDA committees. Although 13,000 have received modest settlements from the Pigford case, 70,000 farmers have yet to have their claims heard.
POC face disproportionate levels of food insecurity compared to their white peers. Food insecurity is defined as an individual’s lack of access to safe, affordable, and culturally-appropriate food needed for a healthy and active lifestyle. A report published in the National Institute of Health Journal expresses that black populations were twice as likely to experience food insecurity than non-Hispanic whites between 2001 and 2016.
Communities of color often face numerous barriers to healthy food choices, safe kitchen spaces, and affordable food. According to the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU), African Americans have half as much access to chain supermarkets as whites. Often this is because supermarkets will refuse to operate in areas deemed “unprofitable.” This phenomenon (supermarket green-lining) does not provide equal access to whole, healthy, and less processed options. The resulting impacts on health and wellbeing are tremendous; diet-related diseases (e.g., Type II Diabetes, obesity, and heart disease) are often more common in individuals of color than whites. Poverty, lack of health insurance, and fear of racial discrimination also further suggests that people are less willing to seek medical treatment for these diet-related diseases.
Those POC who seek government assistance (via Women, Infants, and Children or the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program) often face racially-motivated bias and profiling by government officials. The trope of the “Black Welfare Queen” emerged during the neoconservative 1980s and shapes how both government officials and food pantry volunteers treat POC in their respective spaces.
Approximately 60% of professional and head chefs identify as white. Conversely, many kitchen staff are POC and/or undocumented individuals who live in constant fear of persecution by law enforcement.
Schools in pockets of poverty often do not have the tax base to support scratch-made cooking options in cafeterias. Of the 24% of American schools that classify as “high-poverty” (meaning more than 75% of the student population is eligible for free/reduced lunch), 45% of students are either Black or Hispanic while only 8% identify as white. This therefore suggests that students of color in high-poverty areas receive lower quality meals compared to their white, affluent peers. The impacts of poor food on cognitive function are well known; students are less focused, motivated, and apt to be actively involved in school activities when they are hungry or lack access to nutritious food.
Racial discrimination and subsequent disparities in other realms of life, such as incarceration, poverty, access to transportation, and access to safe work, contribute to food-related disparities. In order to correct historical injustices that have long plagued communities of color in America and beyond, we must be willing to listen to their experiences rather than speaking for them. I urge you to do your research, learn from their stories, and empower communities to demand change. Systemic racism is, in essence, a suffocation of communities, culture, and equity. It is up to our generation to cut our ties with racism before it prevents us from breathing.
Additional Resources
A Reading List for Learning About Anti-Black Racism and Food