Lots of public health work in the U.S. focuses on the “obesity crisis” and how poverty and fatness intersect. But what stereotypes are we internalizing about poor parents and fat kids? What does it feel like to be a fat person doing this work? Harmony Cox, a fat food justice activist, tells us in her essay at Narratively.
We were discussing the neighborhood, and how we could help people here get healthier food. Creating access to healthy food is my job, but it’s also my passion. It’s how I pay my bills and find an outlet for my frustration with a society that allows the poor to suffer. I was hoping to hear some optimism. Instead I got this:
“Nobody would eat it. Everyone around here is just so… fat.”
I felt the folds of my belly pushing against the table. I felt familiar shame burn the back of my throat, bitter as a $7 coffee.
She went on, “The kids always eat fast food. It’s like nobody loves them.”
I wondered how she could know what the kids around here always eat, and what that has to do with how loved they are…
In the reality of feeding a struggling family, the food pyramid is irrelevant. Keeping us fed was a source of pride, junk food was a source of joy, and so our diets endured.
I don’t remember parents who didn’t love me. If anything, they loved me too much, and their love language came deep-fried. It may have hurt me in the long run, but that’s never been a sign that something wasn’t borne from love.