Friday, November 20, 2020

SOS 117 - Food Environment & Food Waste Assignment

               I grew up as the only biological child of a young single mother.  We were very poor.  My mother was barely 20 when she gave birth to me.  No college degree, no job at the time, and no husband to take care of her.  My parents were forced into marriage when my mother was 6 months pregnant with me but divorced shortly after.  Living on opposite ends of the country, I never knew my father.  When my mother had me, she was one of 3 kids still living with my grandparents.  Shortly after I was born, she took off and left me with them, knowing she couldn’t take care of me.  I was always fed.  I don’t remember going to bed hungry while living with my grandparents.  It took me until I was an adult to recognize the agonizing fight my grandparents had just to keep food on the table.  And it took me until this unit to realize just how much poverty affected their food choices. There was always food, but it was almost always boxed, canned, or frozen.  Very rarely did I eat anything fresh growing up. 

               When I was 9, my mother managed to secure government housing, welfare, and food stamps to help her raise me.  That is when the food insecurity started.  Utilizing the food stamp program that was established in 1939 by The Farm Bill (What is the Farm Bill and Why Does it Matter?, 2018, 5:17), the National School Lunch Program, established in 1946 as an expansion of The Farm Bill to further curb the widespread hunger (Hunger and Food Security (Background Reading), p. 2), and local food banks, she managed to scrape enough together to keep us afloat.  Even though she would force herself into feeling completely humiliated just to feed me, there were still many nights when I would go to bed hungry and wake up to bare cabinets. I was the 1 in 5 children who had to deal with food insecurity (The Shocking Truth About Food Insecurity, 2016, 1:05). My mother would be humiliated at the grocery store as she pulled out a small checkbook to pay for our groceries, and carefully pulled what looked like monopoly money out, handing it to a cashier as others in the line judged her for buying shelf-stable but nutrient-deficient foods just to feed me. She never told people how bad it got because she was so embarrassed at having to rely on the kindness of others just to survive (6:38). 

My mother eventually started working in a call center, making $10 per hour, ending the government benefits that kept us afloat, and causing the rent on our government townhouse to up to almost unmanageable levels now that she no longer qualified for government assistance, eventually to a point where she could only afford go grocery shopping once a month.  We almost never had fresh produce.  Produce would go bad very quickly so she would rather buy processed foods than waste money on food that would just be thrown out. When bread developed mold, we were told to pick the mold off and eat it anyway.  “It’s just penicillin,” she would say. We made too much for government assistance, and yet not enough to eat regularly.  Our meals were almost always pre-packaged, shelf-stable food, high in salt, high in sugar, and low on nutrients.  My mother worried nightly about the food running out before the next paycheck, and as a child, I became aware that I was eating too much, so I started skipping meals just so we didn’t run out of food and make my mother more sad than she already was.  Once a month, we would order Chinese food and feast for a couple of days, but by the end of the month, the cupboards were bare again, and I was left trying to find something – anything – to calm the roaring hunger in my belly. 

Eventually, my mother turned to drinking just to cope with her feelings of failure (at being unable to keep me fed, sheltered, and clothed) and the deep depression she felt as a result those feelings.  Things got worse with my diet and now I had to deal with a drunk and abusive mother on top of always feeling hungry and worrying constantly about how to feed myself.  She would beat me if I ate too much, used too much butter, if I shared my food with my other (also very poor) friends, and if I “wasted (her) money” by needing to go to the doctor. I developed several medical conditions as a direct result of the malnutrition and my mother wasn’t able to afford the medications that I needed to correct the deficiencies in my diet.  I had started developing problems in school, my grades slipped, I was always tired, and the only real meals I ate were at school, which were still very high in saturated fats and very low on nutrient-dense foods.

“(S)tudies have shown that residents of communities without access to affordable, healthy food options generally have poorer diets and are at higher risk for certain diet-related diseases… (and) surveys suggest that students who eat meals offered through the National School Lunch Program consume higher amounts of fat and sodium, but also lower amounts of added sugars and higher amounts of several key dietary nutrients (including calcium and B vitamins. (Food Environments (Background Reading), pp. 1-2)

She tried buying more food to combat the malnutrition, rather than pay whatever they wanted to charge her for the medications I needed to combat my malnutrition, but in addition to being still nutrient poor, my deep hunger would cause me to eat most of the extra food within a couple of weeks, leading back to the cycle of food insecurity that kept me malnourished in the first place.  She would almost never bring in fresh produce because it was always more expensive than buying a processed food with added nutrients.  The only times I ate a meal that was even close to being appropriate for my age group were the times I ate at school (I participated in both the School Breakfast Program and the School Lunch Program), and the snacks I would have at daycare.  And even then, I still didn’t eat much in the way of fruits or vegetables, mainly because I was either never exposed to them (specifically in the case of the kiwi I first tried in 5th grade) or I just didn’t have the taste for them (as argued in “Diet and Influences on Food Choice”), referring the pizza to the carrot sticks, the nachos to the salads, and so on. 

As a result of living in such deep poverty, I was taught not to waste a single food item.  What others would deem as worthless and toss in the trash, I was beaten for trying to dispose of.  Wilted lettuce covered in brown spots was still served as a makeshift salad or on a sandwich. If bread molded, the molded part was pulled out and the bread was still eaten.  Expiration dates were completely ignored, even when it came to things like meat and dairy.  Unless it was curdled or the can was bulging, it was still good.  “You could just cook off all of the bacteria from (expired) meat.”  The only time we were allowed to throw out “perfectly good food” was if it was clear that it couldn’t be saved (curdled milk being the primary example), or had developed so much mold that you couldn’t just scrape it off and, even then, sometimes she would still serve it. 

At 14, I started taking babysitting jobs that led to various other odd jobs to help her buy groceries and keep the lights turned on.  She started drinking more now that there was a bit more cash flow, and I started eating whatever I could afford that didn’t taste like molded bread.  I didn’t have the concept of eating fresh food because I almost never had it growing up, and I knew that if I tried to buy things that I couldn’t hide, I would be beaten for going behind her back to feed myself, proving that she was incapable of doing it herself.  It was either shelf-stable food from a box or can, or fast food when we could afford it.  But when I would buy my own groceries – mostly ramen, snacks, and other shelf stable things I could safely tuck away in the drawers under my bed – she would eventually find it, and I would get beaten for hiding food instead.  Sometimes, she would take all of my food and give it to the neighbors.  Sometimes, she would just beat me, and take the rest of my money out of my wallet so that she could buy more alcohol. 

I went to college out of state on a full scholarship that included a meal plan at the cafeteria, which was – for the first time in my life – a period when I never worried about where my next meal would come from.  I had access to fresh fruit and vegetables.  I was able to eat not just once but four times a day.  I didn’t know how to handle it. Most of the time, I opted for food that resembled most like what I had grown up on, prioritizing taste over nutrition (Diet and Influences on Food Choice, p. 3)

I married young, to a man in the military, and, still not knowing how to properly feed myself without a box or a can, we defaulted to fast food and shelf stable or canned meals.  Then we divorced and I lived on my own for almost a decade on a pittance salary, being laid off time and time again, with many months of unemployment and no care from the government.  At one point, I was homeless and living out of my car while still making $14 an hour at a full-time job because I simply couldn’t afford to acquire an apartment. I made too much to qualify for social programs, but still didn’t have enough to even eat a fresh apple once a month.  So back to the shelf-stable, nutrient poor diet I had only ever known growing up, and the many days of going to bed hungry because I couldn’t afford to feed myself.  If the government and social programs are supposed to be “a hand up, not a hand out (The Shocking Truth About Food Insecurity, 2016, 11:22)” they certainly didn’t give me any hands up.  I even resorted to food banks, which was a largely humiliating experience, no matter how friendly the people were to me. 

When I met my husband, I was finally introduced to a nutritious and balanced meal made with fresh ingredients, as he came from a family that had only temporarily experienced poverty but worked very quickly into affluence.  I don’t think he’s ever had to worry about where his next meal will come from.  And, for a couple of years, I never worried about where my next meal would come from either, knowing that we had enough money to buy properly nutritious, fresh food, or that we would have enough money to order out, something that had become somewhat of a delicacy to me, as I only ever got take-out on rare occasions, despite having an affinity for high calorie but nutrient deficient foods. 

And then I got sick.  Very sick.  So sick that I had to quit my decent paying job and start fighting the government for assistance, which they never gave.  We sank right back into poverty, and the inability to throw out food resumed with a vengeance.  I was absolutely terrified of throwing things out and often let them sit in the fridge for days, saved for times when the cupboards would be bare, fully prepared to eat food that had rotted or developed freezer burn just to stave off the hunger pains that had – by that point – become so familiar to me, until my husband would throw them out for me, causing me massive panic attacks and flashbacks to my childhood that would leave me sobbing. 

Yet, as I watched and read this week’s discussions on food insecurity and waste, I found myself thinking about how my mother started dumpster diving shortly after I left for college, just so she’d have enough money for booze and rent, since she now only had to feed herself and she didn’t mind eating food that had gone bad.  She called herself a “freegan,” meaning that she would hop into grocery store dumpsters and pick out food they had thrown away just because the store knew nobody would buy a yogurt that was 6 days until its “sell by” date, even if it would still be good for a while and just need a stirring to mix the yogurt back together, as described in the video “Taste the Waste (3:26)”  To be quite frank, although I grew up in a home where “best before” and “sell by” dates were merely recommendations (and that not only applied to food but to medications as well), I was pleased to learn that these really are arbitrary dates established by CEOs rather than scientists, and that my mother was right when she said that it was merely a marketing tactic designed to make you spend more money.

For most of her life, she not only struggled with poverty as a military brat, and later as a single mom on welfare, but also with eating disorders (which is why she never minded going to bed with only booze in her stomach). She became obese when I was in middle school as a result of those high calorie, high sugar, and low nutrient foods, described in “Diets and Influences on Food Choice (p.3).”  When I was in my teens, she developed hypertension as a result of her diet, and was told to make adjustments to her diet, but never did.  She had become so used to living on poverty foods, that when I tried to show her how to prepare mashed potatoes from scratch, she waved me off and told me that instant (shelf-stable) was just as good.  At that point, poverty foods had become her preferred taste.  Fruit goes bad within a few weeks.  It will never survive from one month to the next.  So highly-processed, shelf-stable foods became her preference, because they were cheap, quick and easy, and they tasted like foods she had grown up with, tastes that she preferred. “American consumers prioritize taste, cost, nutrition, and convenience (in that order) when making food choices (Diet and Influences on Food Choice, p. 3)  My mother has never eaten a bell pepper in her life.  She has never eaten mushrooms, olives, fish, avocados, or onions either.  She grew up without access to these foods in their purest form so she never acquired a taste for them (she would call them “crawlies”), and because she never ate them, neither did I.  I grew up on TV dinners, boxed meals, vegetables out of a can (instead of fresh or even frozen), and fast food.  It wasn’t until I met my husband and broke the cycle of poverty that I started shopping more in the produce section than the middle aisles.  I had to break out of one food environment and immerse in another just to see, with eyes wide open, how damaging it was to raise a child on TV dinners, McDonalds, and Hamburger Helper.

I’m still not okay with wasting as much food as we do.  Just last week, we threw away a brown head of romaine lettuce because my husband had bought a new one to replace it for his sandwiches.  The entire time I was watching “Taste the Waste,” I kept thinking about that head of lettuce, and how my mother would have beaten me if I had thrown it out instead of just cutting the brown parts off and eating it anyway.  She hated food waste.  To her, every piece of food thrown away represented a dollar amount that she was now literally throwing away because it wasn’t eaten, and when you’re in poverty, every penny matters.  She would have lost her mind at finding out that the average household throws away about 100kg (or about 220 pounds) of edible food per year (Taste the Waste, 2010, 32:18).  Like the dumpster divers shown in that same video, my mother became someone who would routinely dive into grocery store dumpsters and sift through layers and layers of thrown away food to fill her fridge for the week because grocery stores are just wasteful.

In our home, there is very little waste.  Definitely not 200 pounds of it a year.  Because I lived in such abject povery for nearly 30 years of my life, literally the subject of the “Food Insecurity” video, I know that wilted celery still can get thrown into a crock pot for either a soup or a roast. I know I can cut off the bad parts of an apple or potato, and eat the edible parts.  Dried herbs can last for years beyond their “best before” dates.  When the sour cream starts to separate, we simply stir it and use it anyway.  I think the only thing we won’t eat past its shelf life is fish, and that’s primarily because my husband eats it raw.  Normally, however, fish never makes it more than 24 hours in our home without being eaten. 

Food environments are where the tastebuds begin.  A home with a family that eats a lot of fast food is going to end up with children who eat a lot of fast food.  No matter how many times we preach the gospel of fresh and healthy, there are always going to be people who just don’t care.  When you grow up as I did, you end up having a hard time adapting to new foods.  I think back on how much I resisted kiwi fruit as a child or asparagus as an adult and how obsessed I am with them now.  When you grow up on Tang and Hamburger Helper, you develop a taste for it. And since “Americans, on average, consume 68% of theur total calories from foods prepared at home (Food Environments (Background Reading), p. 1),” I think it’s critical that we start at home, not just by preaching the gospel of healthy eating but by actually modeling it.  As a grown woman, I now know that a bag of potatoes can net me more mashed potatoes than a box of “potato flakes” for less cost and the fresh potatoes have much more nutrients too.  I now know that bell peppers have an exceptionally large amount of vitamin C in them.  I heard one nutritionist say they have more vitamin C than a glass of orange juice.  But I never ate them until I was an adult because it wasn’t modeled in my home. 

I also really like the idea of farmers leaving their “leftovers” in the fields for people to pick, and think this is a wonderfully sustainable idea for dealing with the 50% of product that never makes it to market because it’s too small, the wrong color, has a dent, or whatever superficial reason the market has against buying dented potatoes.  My aunt lives in a rural part of Israel, close to a very large farm that’s been up and running for almost a century now.  When the farmer makes his harvests, he takes all the things that are sellable at market and leaves everything else in the fields for people to pick up, like the man collecting potatoes from the field at the beginning of “Taste the Waste.”  My aunt and her husband take several bags every harvest just to collect the items he can’t sell because they’re not “perfect” enough for the store.  She has shown me pictures of purple carrots the size of my femur that had to be left behind because they weren’t the right color or size to sell at market.  I am a huge fan of ugly food and believe that ugly food can save our world from starvation if we just get consumers used to the idea that food does not always come out picture perfect.  A head of cabbage with a split down the middle is still perfectly good for coleslaw or cabbage soup!  It’s a waste to toss it back just because it’s not pretty enough for market. 

CSA’s are a great idea to get this project started but I honestly feel like ugly food (and food waste in general) needs a good PR rep and a commercial or three.  Are CSAs useful and amazing?  Of course.  But I feel like we need to adapt this to the market as well and start working on the minds of the average consumer, not just the health-conscious.  In last week’s video, “Cappuccino Trail: The Global Economy in a Cup,” they show a young woman staring at a carton of (out of season) strawberries in a market. She makes several comments about how ripe they look, how pretty they look, and how tempted she is to buy them just because they match her definition of what a strawberry SHOULD look like.  But as someone who was taken to a U-Pick strawberry field many times as a kid (and ate half of my lane in strawberries every time I went), I can tell you that a strawberry picked fresh in the field is so much tastier than the bruised and bland ones shipped in for the off season, just because someone wants strawberry shortcake in January.  Do I still buy strawerries at the store?  Yes. I will admit to that.  But I am also inordinarily picky about my little carton of berries.  Having had freshly grown strawberries, straight from the field, at the peak of flavor, those bland cartons at the store just gotta go.  We in the Western World need to start thinking more seasonally, and less conveniently.  As the caterer said in “The Battle to Get on Your Plate,”:

“Let me show you what I can do with butternut squash instead.”

References

Cappuccino Trail: The Global Economy in a Cup (2001). [Motion Picture]. Films for the Humanities & Sciences.

Diet and Influences on Food Choice. (n.d.). In Teaching the Food System. The Johns Hopkins Center for a Livable Future.

Food Environments (Background Reading). (n.d.). In Teaching the Food System. The Johns Hopkins Center for a Livable Future.

Food Savers (2013). [Motion Picture]. Infobase. Retrieved from https://digital-films-com.ezproxy1.lib.asu.edu/p_ViewVideo.aspx?xtid=56521

Hunger and Food Security (Background Reading). (n.d.). In Teaching the Food System. The Johns Hopkins Center for a Livable Future.

Taste the Waste (2010). [Motion Picture]. Infobase. Retrieved from https://digital-films-com.ezproxy1.lib.asu.edu/p_ViewVideo.aspx?xtid=56522

The Battle to Get on Your Plate: High Stakes in The Food Industry (2009). [Motion Picture].

The Shocking Truth About Food Insecurity (2016). [Motion Picture]. TEDxWilmingtonWomen. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HakCAdPrlms&feature=youtu.be

What is the Farm Bill and Why Does it Matter? (2018). [Motion Picture]. Food & Environment Reporting Network. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P4mQyUOE_z0


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Grade: 100/100

Professor comments: This was an emotionally heavy read, Kathleen, but I thank you for writing it (and sharing it with me). You wrote well and honestly. And I wish that your classmates could read it. To understand that folks like you are "real" (if that makes sense); that this (all of this) isn't theoretical or "academic." And that what we're talking about (learning, doing, etc.) matters; it really does. Maybe more than we realize. And much more than maybe we even understand. So glad that you're here. 

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