Lunchtime Observations

Just the other day, while contemplating my lunch selection between the available salads and pastas in my office building’s cafeteria, I noticed something peculiar. It was something that I’d noticed before, but never gave much thought, until that day. As I decided on the tuna wrap, I watched an employee and her teenaged son (also an employee), sharing a lunch. They were eating, laughing playfully and genuinely enjoying each other’s company. I thought to myself: how cute, they’re sharing a meal (and essentially a bit of quality time right on the job). There aren’t many parents and teenagers who spend quality time together, nonetheless in the workplace. It was quite touching and tender, at least at first.

As I waited for my tuna wrap, I couldn’t help but let my eyes peruse the contents of their lunch. What I found was shocking, but not uncommon. They were sharing a fried fish dinner with the works (french fries, coleslaw, white bread and condiments) from J&J Fish, a local fast food establishment. Suddenly, what I previously deemed a touching moment, seemed displaced, yet felt all too familiar. You see, it was just noon, as in the middle of the day. I couldn’t understand why they were eating such a massive amount of garbage or as summer m. would say eating a heart attack for lunch. I stood for a moment, in an awkward daze, observing them gourge heaps of saturated fat, trans fat and cholesterol into their mouths followed by big gulps of an unidenitifed carbonated sugar beveverage (otherwise known as pop). Did I mention that it was just noon, the lunch hour, not even a holiday?

What I found most jarring about watching mother and son bond over such a meal was how reminiscent it was of the many black folks I've worked with over the years, who also indulged such meals on the lunch hour. I used to work with a woman who once told me that when it's lunch time she's ready to eat. I'd laugh everytime she'd say it because she was such a petite older woman. Her size was definitely not reflective of her appetite. She'd go to lunch and sit down to a hearty plate of soul food with all of the trimmings at least twice a week. Even as I think about my current coworkers, Harolds, Popeyes, KFC, Nathan's, Cholie's, Shark's and J&J are just a few of the regular favorites. On any given day, you can follow the smell through the corridors right to the desk of a black person licking their fingers in great satisfaction with their fried, deep fried, supersized portions of sheer death.

It's a troubling trend, especially when you consider the American Heart Association statistics regarding African American health:

• 66% of black men 20 years and over are overweight (2001-2004)
• 79% of black women 20 years and over are overweight(2001-2004)
• 2004 death rates from Cardio Vascular Disease were 448.9 for black males and 239.3 and for black females 331.6. (Death rates are per 100,000 population.
  
• 46.6% of non-Hispanic black females have high blood pressure, compared with 42.6% of males (Americans age 20 or older).
• 42.1% of non-Hispanic black females have total blood cholesterol levels of200mg/dL or higher, compared with 44.8% of males (Americans age 20 or older)
• 13.2% of non-Hispanic black females have physician-diagnosed diabetes, compared with 10.7% of males (Americans age 20 or older).

The statistics are startling, yet real. Black people are outrunning the masses in the race to an early death. While for once, I'm not trying to pass judgment in this blog, I am, however, deeply concerned about our collective health.

I know as well as the next person how integral food is to our culture. Food is the very apparatus by which we celebrate our good times, cope with our bad times, problem solve and extend ourselves to each other. Where would our families be if it weren't for our ancestors turning the average garden variety of animal scraps into delicacies. I come from an old world Caribbean family, half Belizean, half West Indian. Growing up in my household, we didn't just think that pork was the other white meat, we thought it was the only meat. We couldn't have a pot of stew beans without the pig tail, vegetables without the salt pork or fry jacks (fried dough) not cooked in lard.

However, times have rapidly changed. We no longer need to, nor should we rely on ancestral instincts about food to survive. I recognize that in many of our poorest neighborhoods, we're bombarded with fast food chains and subpar grocery markets. However, at some point we have to take a stand for something; why not for our health? As easily as we dip into our wallets to purchase supersized meals and deep fried chicken dinners, we should be able to opt for something healthier.

Black people let's take the necessary steps to improve our individual and collective health! More times than not, lets say NO to the garbage that contributes to unnecessary fat, lethargy, illness and early death!