Why I'm here

Because two years later, nutrition still has a racism problem.

Photo by Hunter James on Unsplash

In June 2020, I started an Instagram account, Antiracist RD, because people—even some dietitians!—were finally talking about racism and anti-Blackness openly and publicly. I had finished my dietetic internship the year before, and was terribly disillusioned with the field. I lived in New Orleans, a majority-Black city, and had not had a single Black preceptor in my internship, though often the clients we worked with were Black. 

In New Orleans and throughout the Deep South, the health disparities between Black and white are raw and exposed, undeniable wounds. We never spoke of them in my internship, or at the state school in the bayou where I had finished my nutrition schooling. It was bizarre and painful for me, the cognitive dissonance of telling people they needed to eat fewer Honey Buns when often the health conditions they were experiencing were inextricably tied to injustices that stretch far back—to the beginnings of their lives, to their mothers' lives, their grandmothers', to slavery, to the founding of America on stolen land. Why were we only talking about the Honey Buns?

In my public health program we talked about the links between racism and health (though not enough). In my nutrition classes and rotations: nothing.

In June 2020, I was heartened to see so many dietitians and nutrition students calling out the Academy of Nutrition and Dietetics for its non-response to the murder of George Floyd and the protests it sparked, and its lack of self-reflection on the ways the organization had perpetuated racism and anti-Blackness over the years. That there was no response did not surprise me. But that some dietitians were speaking out did. I was used to silence.

As you likely know, ours is a profession of a whole lot of white women. According to a 2020 survey, 93% of registered dietitians (RDs) are women, and 82% are white¹. It is difficult to finish the schooling and free labor required to become an RD without support from family—money, a car, housing—and the privilege that comes with that. We have blind spots, so many blind spots!

We are barreling down the highway at 80 miles per hour and we can't see. We know it's dangerous, these blind spots, these gaping holes in our knowledge that don't let us see the relationships between ourselves, our clients, our communities, and history, food systems, land, water, politics, everything, and everyone.

Give us some mirrors and maybe we could see behind us, around us. Teach us how to double-check our instincts. Demonstrate that it's okay to be human and to admit making mistakes. That's what I was hearing dietitians asking for from the decision-makers in our profession back in 2020. Two years later, very little has changed.

Even if you are not a nutrition professional or client, these blind spots matter. They affect our lives and food culture. Dietitians serve on the advisory committee for the Dietary Guidelines for Americans, the official word on what food and beverages we should be consuming, which then underpins food policy, meal programs such as the National School Lunch Program, nutrition standards for the WIC program, the nutrition education children receive in schools, and much more. Dietitians care for you and your loved ones in the hospital. They plan menus for children and the elderly, for incarcerated people. They work with the most marginalized and vulnerable populations. They have public trust and credibility when it comes to what we eat and drink.

They also receive no mandatory education around how racism and other systems of oppression appear in our food and health systems, or how they might affect the food choices and health statuses of the people they work with.

And so here I am. A very small and individual solution to a big, systemic problem, but hey – it's better than nothing, I guess. This newsletter will not be The Final Word handed down from on high because don't we get enough of that in the nutrition world? ("I Found the Answer to Your Internalized White Supremacy & I'll Share it With You for Only $4.99 Per Month!") I'm just a person. You're just a person. Let's learn together and be vulnerable and make the world a better place in some small way.

This newsletter is not only for dietitians, dietetic interns, or nutrition students—although I do have a particular window into that world. If you are interested in talking and learning about the world of food and nutrition that lies beyond deciding what food you put into your body, you are in the right place. Not everything I write will explicitly be about race and racism, though it will always be there, because if you are a BIPOC person, you know it is always there.

Next week I will be sharing more about my background, my circuitous path to becoming an RD, the experiences that have shaped me into an antiracist dietitian, and…I don't want to promise any other details because I haven't written it yet and what if they don't end up fitting in? (That said, if you have any specific questions about me, feel free to comment or reply and ask me, and I'll try to include the answers next week.)

What to expect

This is the very beginning of the journey and you are here with me – thank you and welcome! For now, the schedule will look like:

• An in-depth essay on Wednesday morning, covering a topic I don't see discussed enough in the nutrition world

• A brief discussion of something fun on Friday, because joy keeps us grounded, connected, and excited about doing this work

Please forward this newsletter to anyone who you think might want to be a part of this community—because that is how I am envisioning it, as a community coming together to learn, to grow, and to change the status quo, at least in our own lives and work.

I am always open to suggested topics, feedback, questions, and criticism from a place of shared humanity. (As in, if we were having a conversation in person, how would you tell me I was wrong? Say it like that, please. Not like a person writing in all caps in the comments section of a local paper.) Leave a comment or get in touch at anjaliruth@substack.com.

1. The survey included no data on other marginalized identities, and the only gender categories were “male” and “female.” Ugh. So yeah, we need more diversity of all kinds, not just racial diversity.