Wednesday, 04 October 2017 09:00
De Blasio's "Symbols of Hate" Can Be Found at Your Local Supermarket
The supermarket in my previous community, through its blatantly substandard
offerings served the same purpose as many of the statues that are being
taken down. It institutionalized a general narrative about the inferiority
of certain members of our population that persists in our society.
The supermarkets in low-income communities, through its blatantly
substandard offerings, serve the same purpose as many of the statues
honoring white supremacy. It institutionalizes a general narrative about the
inferiority of certain members of our population that persists in our
society. (Photo: Ricardo / Flickr)
RAYGINE DIAQUOI FOR BUZZFLASH AT TRUTHOUT
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The events in Charlottesville have had repercussions all over the nation,
forcing debate about the meaning behind many of our well-known monuments and
the importance of removing statues that do not reflect our greatest ideals.
In focusing on more obvious testaments to oppression, we must not neglect to
examine the way that everyday structures, such as a grocery store, can
reflect injustice.
Last month, New York Mayor Bill de Blasio announced the 18 members of a
commission that would," develop guidelines on how the City should address
monuments seen as oppressive and inconsistent with the values of New York
City." I hope that the individuals called to be a part of this commission
that will guide our treatment of "symbols of hate" will use this opportunity
to bring attention to all of our shrines to injustice, even supermarkets.
I am a native New Yorker and have lived in three of our wonderful city's
five boroughs. Recently, I moved from a lower-income zip code with a median
income of $26,410 to a higher income one, median income $46,210. As soon as
the movers brought the last of the boxes into the apartment, I went to the
neighborhood supermarket to grab some quick items to eat.
Realizing that my new main grocery store shared the same name as the one in
the old neighborhood, I knew that this would be an interesting exercise in
comparison given the differences in demographics. In addition to having a
higher median income, my new neighborhood was 21.6 percent white. The old
community was 2.4 percent white.
Physicians, psychologists and health economists have documented the
relationship between neighborhood demographics and the likelihood that one
has access to healthy food options. The higher the income and the whiter the
neighborhood, the better the chances are of not having to rely on bodegas,
convenience stores and fast-food restaurants for nourishment.
I had gotten used to traveling for about 30 to 40 minutes, and relying on a
friend's food co-op membership to find fresh organic produce, milk
alternatives, canned goods without added sugar and bread without high
fructose corn syrup.
When I walked through the doors of the supermarket I probably looked just
like Charlie Bucket did after being told that he had won Mr. Wonka's
chocolate factory. I had moved from a food desert to a food wetland. This
store was significantly larger than the one in my old neighborhood and had
aisle after aisle of organic and locally grown produce, several different
kinds of hemp milk, drinkable yogurt from Sweden, bread made from sprouted
whole grains and cleaning products derived from biodegradable resources; a
cornucopia of healthy food choices that was unimaginable in my previous
community. I couldn't believe that these two very different supermarkets
belonged to the same chain. But, then again, it was very easy to understand
why there were such dramatic differences in food offerings from two stores
belonging to the same chain.
I stood in front of four different types of hemp milk for a very long time
reflecting on how every single aspect of the way we choose to configure our
communities reflects our values and who is valued. Our grocery stores, along
with other establishments and institutions, in lower income neighborhoods
and/or those inhabited predominantly by people of color, are a few of the
monuments all over our nation that we are ignoring in the sudden scramble to
topple statues. The supermarket in my previous community, through its
blatantly substandard offerings served the same purpose as many of the
statues that are being taken down. It institutionalized a general narrative
about the inferiority of certain members of our population that persists in
our society.
As a scholar who has spent the last decade researching the strategies used
by communities to help their children thrive despite oppression, I am
acutely aware of the havoc that these kinds of environmental affronts wreak
on actual people. In the wake of Charlottesville's reminder of the long
record of white supremacy in this nation, we are paying more attention to
what our statues tell us about who we are.
Raygine DiAquoi is an assistant professor of sociomedical sciences and
director of the Office of Diversity, Culture and Inclusion at Columbia
University, Mailman School of Public Health. She is a Public Voices fellow
with The OpEd Project.
