HealthThe Global Is Local

Wandering In A (Food) Desert

By February 8, 2013 One Comment

This is the story of the health of our city, seen from both a great distance and up-close and personal.

The phrase “Food Desert” is a mastery of marketing. Our emotional response is immediate, and we conjure up a clear, heart wrenching image in our minds – a starving child in a vast expanse of sand, perhaps. Next, our rational mind moves to understanding the phrase more deeply, placing this child in an urban environment, rife with poverty, crime, and disease. 

Finally, at least for those of us in the public health arena, we consider the complex interplay of poverty, urban planning, food policies, obesity, and other socioeconomic and behavioral issues. Recognizing that a picture is worth many words, and also that I often use more words than is entirely necessary, I would like to share the following images. Their similarity is striking, although partially due to the way that I chose to frame them.

World Hunger Map

World Hunger Map

Baltimore Food Deserts

Baltimore Food Deserts

From a global perspective, we have here a map of undernourishment, ranging from very low (under five percent in the United States, Canada, France, etc.) to very high (over 35 percent in Haiti and the Democratic Republic of Congo). In Baltimore, notice that the more affluent areas have easy access to quality foods – in Roland Park and Fells Point for example – while areas like Oldtown and Harlem Park are a significant distance from supermarkets.

Despite the complexity of the issues involved, the root cause is clearly poverty. The tight clusters on both maps track closely with poverty rates. The majority of the world’s poorest countries are in Africa. The health disparities between the wealthiest and poorest nations are astonishing – a 30 year difference in life expectancy. And yet the disparity plays out in stark relief locally as well. Residents of Roland Park can expect to live 20 years longer than those who live in Upton, and the median incomes in each neighborhood are $90,000 and $13,000, respectively.

Of course anyone reading this could disagree and point to another issue – crime, education, institutional racism, etc. And of course poverty itself is an effect of many other causes, each factor encased in entrenched, interwoven factors, like Möbius strips– a horrible fractal basket woven from poverty, racism, disease, hunger, education, urban planning, crime, government policy, and history.

So food deserts are complicated. The sand is not dry, windblown dunes, but rather quicksand that sucks those trapped there up to their waist – debilitating them and impeding their escape, but not so deep as to kill outright. Where is Baltimore in this picture? According to the Baltimore Food Policy Initiative, 125,000 people, or 20 percent of the city’s population live in a food desert. (If you are not familiar with BFPI, I recommend taking a look. Their analysis of the distribution of outlets and the quality of food available provides valuable insight into the breadth of food options in Baltimore neighborhoods.)

Fighting food deserts has become trendy. Michelle Obama is urging action by mayors and other leaders. This is not necessarily a bad thing, since the problem is getting attention. There is an awareness month (September), task forces at local, state and federal levels; there are local NGOs; in Baltimore and elsewhere there are community gardens, farmer’s markets that accept food stamps, and healthy school lunches. But some efforts to eradicate food deserts may cause more harm than good. Siting major food retailers in urban areas can displace many smaller businesses and generally provides only low-wage jobs with mediocre benefits.

Without a focus on poverty, we will continue to wander. A livable wage in Baltimore City for a single adult is $11.24, according to MIT research. The minimum wage in Maryland is $7.25. If every employer in the city increased the wages of their lowest paid workers by a couple of bucks an hour, for instance, the gaping abyss of poverty might get a little less deep. If organizations like the Baltimore Free Farm were compensated for the food they often give away, they could use those resources to provide food in areas that are underserved. Add in some understanding and compassion for those in the service industry, educational support roles, long-term care, and other essential but underpaid positions. Finally, give everyone election day off and get some officials into elected office who are answerable to those making less than a living wage, and some new policies might see the light with more progressive, equitable urban planning models, tax codes, and incentives for a city hungry for change.

Next time, Does Preventative Care Prevent Anything?

IMAGE CREDIT. By Nicholasink.

Author Adam Conway

Adam Conway is a recent transplant to Baltimore, an advocate for intelligent, holistic policy in government and industry, and a potter. After receiving undergraduate degrees in art and psychology, Adam pursued a career in mental health care, serving those with mental illness in residential and community settings. In 2011, he completed a Master's in Public Health Policy at the University of Pittsburgh, and is now devoted to addressing systemic issues affecting the entire population- health, environment, food, and policy. He also has been making functional and decorative pottery for over ten years (www.FreeRangePottery.com) in community studio settings because he likes people and is inspired by their work. Any opinions expressed in Adam’s articles are his own and are not intended to represent those of any agency or organization for which he is employed.

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