The other night I was looking through two books by photographer Jamel Shabazz, called Back in the Days and A Time Before Crack which depict life, mostly among youth culture, in New York’s “inner cities” during the late seventies and early 1980s. These books have been treasured for their clear, unaffected presentation of 70s and 80s style, their heartfelt depiction of love and community, and not to mention, Shabazz’s colorful portraiture and street photography. One thing I noticed in these books is that there appeared to be remarkably little obesity in young people as compared to what you would find today.
Food politics run deep for me, not just in terms of legislation, but in terms of the political nature of access to actual food opposed to “food products.” Artificial ingredients and food products are approved by the government and in general, they are widely available, but often the worst of this crappy, destructive stuff is only what’s available in “minority” neighborhoods. The time before crack was also the time before insane snack culture, frozen microwave meals, the super-boom of chain restaurants, lax parenting, and the end of the sit-down home-cooked family meal. It was also the time before high fructose corn syrup, preservative cocktails, and modified food starch. I’d say the eighties brought a different kind of crack, and its effects are still visible.
This summer I came home to a street fair in Washington Heights starting at 181st street and stretching as far as the eye could see. I was bothered, deeply bothered, to find most of the sponsors were major food companies, each with their own tent or truck, and all with food samples. Out of my all my years living in New York City, I’ve never seen a street fair sponsored by Act II microwave popcorn, Chef Boyardee, Hershey’s, and the Unilever family of products. And I’ve been to many street fairs. Some truly low-quality food was passed out, the worst offense by Unilever, who, in an attempt to land the Latino market, demonstrated how traditional Mexican dishes could be made with crappy massmarket ingredients.
As we know, the food problem in America is not isolated to minority groups and the working class. Earlier this year Slate magazine ran an article about Sysco, the food supply company that provides goods for “nearly 400,000 American eating establishments, from fast-food joints like Wendy’s, to five-star eating establishments like Robert Redford’s Tree Room Restaurant, to mom-and-pop diners like the Chatterbox Drive-In, to ethnic restaurants like Meskerem Ethiopian restaurant. . .” Notes Slate, “While chefs have long relied on shortcuts like freezing and using canned goods like beans and tomatoes, it’s entirely different to pass off one of Sysco’s thousands of ready-made items—ground beef burritos, vegan tortellini, quiche Lorraine pie, tiramisu cake—as homemade.” However, Sysco is not mining for dollars. I can’t help but find myself angry by the state of affairs. The effects of contemporary chemical diets appear worse than those of soul food.
I am happy to meet others who are interested in bringing about positive, radical shifts in eating, through education, destroying the legality of dangerous ingredients, and by democratizing good food. Hopefully, the street photography of that new era will brightly depict young people who look and feel healthier than ever.
