Food Apartheid in The Bush

How language and the experience of a South Chicago family reveal the systemic devastation of communities of color in the US

My name is Ariana Diaz. I am a food writer and a communications intern at the Social Gastronomy Movement focusing on the intersections of food justice, mental health, and sustainability. In the US, where I call home, food apartheid has defined my family's relationship with food for generations. I have experienced first hand how food apartheid can rob culture, economic security, and mental well-being from communities of color.

SGM has the power to globally advocate the local realities of families like mine. As someone who is responsible for changing the course of their family's history, I am committed to using this global platform to advocate for those around the world who carry the intergenerational burdens of social injustice.

What do you imagine when you hear the phrase: food desert? Maybe you envision a desolate area void of any food at all or, a place that is less abundant than others just by its nature. The term "food desert" has popped up in conversations academic articles, major newspaper headlines, and even common conversations over coffee. However, this term is dangerous.

A food desert is defined as "an urban area in which it is difficult to buy affordable or good-quality fresh food." Recently, food justice leaders such as Leah Penniman and Karen Washington have replaced the term food desert with food apartheid. Why? The term food desert assumes communities fighting for food security is a natural byproduct of their environment and that only "people in power can heal a broken community."

The challenges that Black, Indigenous, and low-income communities face with food access are not natural. The term food apartheid most accurately reflects these realties as "a human-created system of segregations, which relegates some people to food opulence and other people to food scarcity."

Redlining policies in the early and mid 20th century created an economy that is dependent on food apartheid existing in communities of color. These US policies resulted in White Flight and racially targeted marketing campaigns by fast food chains such as McDonald's. Most importantly, they fostered a culture throughout the United States "**around unhealthy, addictive foods and fail to provide living wages for their workforce and therefore perpetuate higher poverty rates," in low income areas and communities of color.

"Intentional and persistent disinvestment and discriminatory credit practices," keep retailers from moving into low-income communities to this day and, sometimes, even cause grocery stores to close their doors permanently. In 2019, a majority of voters claimed they believe racial segregation persists in America. Segregation in America is rooted in the food system and will impact generations of communities of color to come.

Food apartheid is not just an American issue. In Cape Town, a city with an extensive history based in racial inequity, grocery stores in low-income neighborhoods stock less healthy food items than those in wealthy neighborhoods. Western policies are impacting food systems across the Global South, and as a result, are facing the consequences of highly industrialized food production and convenience foods such as obesity and undernutrition. For example, researchers in San Lorenzo, Paraguay confirmed that food deserts can have similar consequences for many cities outside of the Global North, despite much of the current research being focused on developed countries.

Racial and economic inequity across the world is creating food systems rooted in food apartheid. The issue according to Dejah Powell is much more than "just placing grocery stores throughout the city." Food apartheid is a complex and deeply institutionalized challenge for low-income, Black, and Indigenous communities.

There are plenty of articles on why the term food apartheid is important and should replace our use of the phrase "food desert." However, few articles touch on the local realities for families facing food insecurity. Food apartheid travels across generations, and for many who are trapped by the system of institutionalized oppression, a lack of access to food becomes a way of life.

My father, Jose Diaz, is from The Bush, a historically redlined neighborhood in South Chicago. When I asked him about what his food environment looked like growing up, he said that he had not "seen a grocery store until he went to the suburbs as a teenager," and "bought groceries from local corner stores," where fresh produce was non-existent. My family has had to live off government aid and as a child he and my grandmother only recall going to the local community center to pick up a box that consisted of a "big block of cheese, powdered milk, cereal, and bread."

**My family's story is important because food apartheid "**results in the epidemic of diabetes, heart disease, obesity and other diet-related illnesses that are plaguing communities of color." This is a public health concern that has played a role in my grandmother's stroke at 50 and my dad's at 40. For many people living in these communities, the only guaranteed meals are school lunches and the term "healthy food" is foreign. Food is food, and many children, like my father, have to eat as much as they can because the next meal is never promised.

People in these communities are aware of the issues that plague them, but feel little power in their ability to change the situation. According to Jose, "grocery stores will not put healthy food in communities where many people live off food stamps or government aid because they know they won't make money." Redlining and discriminatory policies deny communities of color access to a healthy life and socioeconomic growth. Food may seem like a small part of this equation but, when many people go to work and school malnourished, the impacts can last multiple lifetimes.

We must rethink our language in order to rethink our food systems. The words we use do more than communicate an idea. Our words are the foundation of our advocacy and play an essential role in the way we represent communities and their local realities. By replacing the term food dessert with food apartheid, we are shifting our focus from the surface to the root causes of food insecurity. Food apartheid is a term that allows us to focus on systemic injustice, highlight examples of power and resiliency, and communicate how food insecurity disenfranchises and devastates communities of color around the world.

Let's create systems of accountability for institutions that create food apartheid. By recognizing the historical foundations of these challenges, we place validity and value to people's experiences. Let's innovate solutions to bring healthy, culturally appropriate food back to communities of color. The power already exists in these communities, but we can do our part in bringing visibility to the hard work that is being done to create transformative food systems change.

Here are some influential organizations fighting against food apartheid throughout the United States:

Soul Fire Farm: an Afro-Indigenous centered community farm committed to uprooting racism and seeding sovereignty in the food system

Detroit Black Community Food Security Network: creating model urban agricultural projects that seek to build community self-reliance and to change our consciousness about food.

Land Loss Prevention Project: providing legal support and assistance to all financially distressed and limited resource farmers and landowners in North Carolina.

Yisrael Family Farm: their mission is to transform the hood for G.O.O.D. (Growing Our Own Destiny) using urban agriculture as a tool for community engagement, empowerment and employment.

Urban Growers Collective: demonstrating the development of community-based food systems and to support communities in developing systems of their own where food is grown, prepared, and distributed within the community itself.

SÜPRMARKT: a low cost organic grocery making great food available to all