The thing about a myth is, once it gets going it’s hard to stop. Myths take on a life of their own, especially if it’s an urban myth, the kind that’s rarely subjected to critical thought or scrutiny. Much of the failed social policy of the last half-century is due to fuzzy logic, specious reasoning and outright lies.
The “food desert” is supposedly a “geographic area where affordable and nutritious food is difficult to obtain, particularly for those without access to an automobile. Some research links them to diet-related health problems in affected populations.”
Do such areas exist? Certainly. But here’s why I still maintain food deserts are myths. A myth, by definition, is a “fiction or half-truth, especially one that forms part of an ideology.”
Now the ideology behind the myth of the food desert is well-intentioned. When a study showed that folks in Lyndhurst live on average 24 years longer than folks in Hough (which is less than 15 miles away), health experts began looking for a culprit to blame for this outcome, and the food desert was the most likely candidate.
It’s certainly easier to blame a lack of nutritional food than it is to blame Big Macs. There was a joke back in the early ’70s — but it really wasn’t funny so I guess it’s not a joke — that when the first McDonald’s opened on the east side at 82nd and Euclid, mothers for miles around threw away their skillets. What the food policy experts probably should be studying is “Why is it cheaper for poor people to eat unhealthy rather than healthy?
While access to healthy food might be a problem for those without adequate transportation (and I’ll address that in a moment), a problem that looms just as large is the one of unhealthy food choices.
Now, I’m the food shopper for my family (I like to compare myself to the ancient hunter/gathers who braved all kinds of dangers to feed their families, but I know that’s bullshit, since all I have to do is to go to Costco’s or walk into Dave’s on Payne.) But like many other people, while shopping I get nosy. I take quick peeks into other shoppers’ food carts when I’m at Dave’s and often times I’m appalled.
Young mothers make a beeline past the broccoli, Brussels sprouts and bell peppers — dashing to the sugar-laden snack cakes and syrupy soft drinks like “Little Hugs” (the name even sounds inviting, how is a mother going to turn down a “hug” for her child?), chips and frozen pizzas. Is it any wonder that the children of such undereducated parents do so poorly in school?
So the problem of the food desert is as much one of education as it is of access. But that didn’t stop the food desert myth from spreading, which gave birth to specious, unworkable solutions.
A bit of history is in order. When cities like Cleveland were originally laid out, there were merchants of all kinds on every corner in neighborhoods: from shoe repair shops to dry cleaners to butchers, bakers and green grocers. But the rise of suburbia also saw the rise of the shopping mall, which made sense in an automobile culture. But that shift caused the demise of most of the local corner stores, but there are a few left.
So some allegedly bright people thought, “Let’s get the remaining inner-city corner stores to carry healthy fruits and vegetables since they are in walking distance to the people who need them.” But that idea went over like a fart in church.
Those corner stores make their money selling Black & Milds, 40 ounces and greasy chicken wings, and the merchants who run then are often disrespectful of the women of color that were being encouraged to shop at these stores. And the few outlets that were willing to carry healthy groceries soon reported that such items set on shelves until they spoiled.
This doesn’t mean that logical and workable answers don’t exist. One is food delivery trucks, such as the one Burten, Bell, Carr (an eastside community development corporation) operates. The truck circulates throughout the neighborhood on a regular basis and some folks have come to depend on it.
Another way to solve what essentially is a transportation problem is to provide an effective means for the elderly, the disabled and women with small children to get where they need to go.
If the ultimate goal is to close the life expectancy gap between inner-city and suburban neighborhoods, then a holistic approach has to be taken. The same demographic that has trouble getting access to healthy food also has problems getting to medical appointments and community meetings.
What’s truly needed is a subsidized (meaning free) door-to-door, on demand, jitney service — something that’s now called Uber for those with the wherewithal to pay. Yes, there are community circulator buses in some neighborhoods (which do a less than adequate job) but the real solution is a hassle-free, customized transportation service for those in need.
In that manner, folks can grocery shop, get to doctor appointments and go to evening community meetings where they can interact with their neighbors — and be transported back home again — which would take a certain amount of stress out of lives. That would certainly would lead to better health outcomes, since the tension of living in sometimes dangerous communities plays a huge role in shortened life spans.
Of course bureaucrats will say such a service is too expensive, but what they really mean is there is no political will to find the funding. But funding is found for other things — some of which really doesn’t help poor people stay alive any longer at all.
From Cool Cleveland correspondent Mansfield B. Frazier mansfieldfATgmail.com. Frazier’s From Behind The Wall: Commentary on Crime, Punishment, Race and the Underclass by a Prison Inmate is available again in hardback. Snag your copy and have it signed by the author by visiting http://NeighborhoodSolutionsInc.com.