Thank you so much for this excellent breakdown of the problems with the “nutrition education” model targeted at low-income people. I used to work for an organization that did exactly this, aimed at public school kids. It was clear every day that the curriculum and lessons were condescending, paternalistic, often racist (“swap out your cultural foods for these ‘healthier’ alternatives!”). It took way too long for me to figure that out. I don’t have much to add other than appreciation for your work and alternative approach.
I am reading this on my commute to teaching my first cooking class at the organization I work with so it could not have come at a better time! Thank you for challenging our perspectives on teaching. I’m going to ask the community we serve what they would like to see in future classes :)
Thank you for this thought-provoking essay! It brought-up so many memories for me, and made me uncomfortable thinking about my past roles as a nutrition & culinary educator to “underprivileged” children & adults. I continually remind myself “know better, do better” and this is one area where it’s especially true!
Thanks for this article. As an outpatient dietitian, this is something I constantly wrestle with especially because I am faced with individuals who want to make changes within a difficult system. I work with a primarily white low-income population and I agree - most of them know that they need more fruits and vegetables, whole grains, etc but the question is always - what are their barriers? This article is a reminder to me to talk through those barriers with the patient and to collaborate on how those barriers can be addressed.
I saw this linked from the Burnt Toast newsletter and I just loved it so much and am excited to subscribe for more!
I am an art director and used to work for an agency that was hired by a university in a southern state in the US to design the materials for a program they developed to teach “healthy eating.” It was taught to leaders in Black churches who would then teach the material to their congregations. After the 8 week program, the university measured whether participants retained the information as a measure of success. (The questions asked did not include whether participants had already known these things or whether they found it helpful.) It was the final project I worked on before I left that job because I was so disgusted by it. I saw later that the program was deemed a huge success and had received funding from several state programs to expand :(
The lessons were all based on the same assumptions you beautifully discuss here — that educating people on healthy food would tell people things they did not already know and would be the most meaningful way to improve health outcomes. The content was developed by white women, and it was condescending, to say the least. It also ignored questions of access, time, budget, etc and focused on things like reading a nutrition label and how to measure calories.
As someone who has spent two decades thinking about the harm we do by focusing entirely on weight and narrow definitions of health, I was so frustrated at seeing many flaws in the content and reading your newsletter just makes me reflect back with disappointment that the generous budget for this project was such a waste. I hated that it ignored social determinants of health and instead on individual behaviors and on stigmatizing having higher body weight. I also believe that “good health” is not a moral obligation and the involvement of church leaders made it even worse to me.
I did not feel in any position to push back — the program was already developed, we were just there to make it look good and function — but it is a regret that I didn’t push back anyway. I apologize for writing such a long comment about this, but reading this was such a helpful reminder to me for why I left that job!
Thank you for this thoughtful comment, Laura, and welcome! I think you might be interested in this other essay that talks about some of those limitations you mention (time, budget, as well as access to kitchen space, cooking equipment, etc.) and also talks about how these burdens disproportionately fall on women: https://anjaliruth.substack.com/p/food-security-is-good-but-who-provides
As a grad student many years ago, I conducted outreach for a program that sought to increase the availability of fresh produce in corner stores in urban neighborhoods disproportionately affected by diet-related illnesses. My experience reflects what is written here. In conversations with residents, there was no question that they knew what was what when it came to "healthy" foods. The issue seemed to be with the store owners themselves, the majority of whom were not from the community. Many store owners made assumptions about what their customers wanted, mostly based on thinly veiled racial stereotypes. As a result, there was often a tense relationship between store owners and the communities they served. Residents seemed resigned that their store only carried junk food--even though they didn't necessarily want that-- and store owners were convinced that that's all "they" wanted. It was an eye-opening experience.
Thank you so much for this excellent breakdown of the problems with the “nutrition education” model targeted at low-income people. I used to work for an organization that did exactly this, aimed at public school kids. It was clear every day that the curriculum and lessons were condescending, paternalistic, often racist (“swap out your cultural foods for these ‘healthier’ alternatives!”). It took way too long for me to figure that out. I don’t have much to add other than appreciation for your work and alternative approach.
I am reading this on my commute to teaching my first cooking class at the organization I work with so it could not have come at a better time! Thank you for challenging our perspectives on teaching. I’m going to ask the community we serve what they would like to see in future classes :)
Perfect timing! :)
Thank you for this thought-provoking essay! It brought-up so many memories for me, and made me uncomfortable thinking about my past roles as a nutrition & culinary educator to “underprivileged” children & adults. I continually remind myself “know better, do better” and this is one area where it’s especially true!
Thanks, Jessica. I totally relate to that discomfort. Know better, do better, always!
Thanks for this article. As an outpatient dietitian, this is something I constantly wrestle with especially because I am faced with individuals who want to make changes within a difficult system. I work with a primarily white low-income population and I agree - most of them know that they need more fruits and vegetables, whole grains, etc but the question is always - what are their barriers? This article is a reminder to me to talk through those barriers with the patient and to collaborate on how those barriers can be addressed.
I saw this linked from the Burnt Toast newsletter and I just loved it so much and am excited to subscribe for more!
I am an art director and used to work for an agency that was hired by a university in a southern state in the US to design the materials for a program they developed to teach “healthy eating.” It was taught to leaders in Black churches who would then teach the material to their congregations. After the 8 week program, the university measured whether participants retained the information as a measure of success. (The questions asked did not include whether participants had already known these things or whether they found it helpful.) It was the final project I worked on before I left that job because I was so disgusted by it. I saw later that the program was deemed a huge success and had received funding from several state programs to expand :(
The lessons were all based on the same assumptions you beautifully discuss here — that educating people on healthy food would tell people things they did not already know and would be the most meaningful way to improve health outcomes. The content was developed by white women, and it was condescending, to say the least. It also ignored questions of access, time, budget, etc and focused on things like reading a nutrition label and how to measure calories.
As someone who has spent two decades thinking about the harm we do by focusing entirely on weight and narrow definitions of health, I was so frustrated at seeing many flaws in the content and reading your newsletter just makes me reflect back with disappointment that the generous budget for this project was such a waste. I hated that it ignored social determinants of health and instead on individual behaviors and on stigmatizing having higher body weight. I also believe that “good health” is not a moral obligation and the involvement of church leaders made it even worse to me.
I did not feel in any position to push back — the program was already developed, we were just there to make it look good and function — but it is a regret that I didn’t push back anyway. I apologize for writing such a long comment about this, but reading this was such a helpful reminder to me for why I left that job!
Thank you for this thoughtful comment, Laura, and welcome! I think you might be interested in this other essay that talks about some of those limitations you mention (time, budget, as well as access to kitchen space, cooking equipment, etc.) and also talks about how these burdens disproportionately fall on women: https://anjaliruth.substack.com/p/food-security-is-good-but-who-provides
As a grad student many years ago, I conducted outreach for a program that sought to increase the availability of fresh produce in corner stores in urban neighborhoods disproportionately affected by diet-related illnesses. My experience reflects what is written here. In conversations with residents, there was no question that they knew what was what when it came to "healthy" foods. The issue seemed to be with the store owners themselves, the majority of whom were not from the community. Many store owners made assumptions about what their customers wanted, mostly based on thinly veiled racial stereotypes. As a result, there was often a tense relationship between store owners and the communities they served. Residents seemed resigned that their store only carried junk food--even though they didn't necessarily want that-- and store owners were convinced that that's all "they" wanted. It was an eye-opening experience.