Fat land : how Americans became the fattest people in the world by Greg Crister Page B
Authors: Greg Crister
Tags: obesity
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AYSO. Founded at an impromptu get-together at the Beverly Hilton in West Los Angeles, AYSO grew by leaps and bounds during the 1980s; between 1974 and 1989 membership increased from 35,000 to
FAT LAND
500,000. Because it was essentially driven by parents who had the free time to cart kids to twice-weekly sessions, and who also had the free time to "volunteer" to referee and coach, AYSO was "essentially a suburban movement," as Lollie Keyes, its current communications director, says. "It really wasn't until later that we focused and found the support for inner-city leagues."
The same could be said for almost every other category of youth sports, or, for that matter, for any other opportunity to play — period: Wherever a chance to freely expend calories appeared, it was likely to be contingent upon parental time and money. Or parental residence: Parks and streets tended to be safer in suburbs. And inner cities, increasingly filled with less politically savvy new immigrants, were often shortchanged in parks and recreation spending, not to mention adequate neighborhood policing. All of this was reflected in a 1999 survey by the Daniel Yankelovich consultancy, citing lack of sidewalks and unsafe neighborhoods as "major barriers to fitness." The new unspoken truth was simple: In America, fitness was to be purchased, even if you were a child.
The realities and values of inner-city immigrant life also augured against investments in fitness. In Los Angeles, the Ellis Island of postwar America, new Latin American immigrants proved to be not much different from previous generations of poor immigrants to the United States (save, perhaps, that their proximity to the border rendered them economically more vulnerable to wave upon wave of wage-undermining newcomers). For one, most of their time was spent simply making ends meet, a process often made more draining by a lack of adequate public transportation, affordable housing, and health care. For another, they were not urbanites but rather urban villagers; like the 1950s generation of Italian Americans, they were and are likely to act upon Old World ideas about exercise and health — in essence, the less the better. Studies by University of Pennsylvania epidemiologists under Professor Shiriki Kumanyika, for example, showed that when new immigrants were asked whether rest was
WHY THE CALORIES STAYED ON OUR BODIES
more important or better for health than exercise, a large portion "always says yes." The attitude was doubly corrosive: Among immigrant groups at the highest risk for hypertension and diabetes (see chapter 6), many respondents said that exercise "has the potential to do more harm than good."
Such attitudes have been reinforced by a growing knowledge gap about health matters. Consider a 2000 study of 1,929 Americans by American Data Sports Inc. Researchers asked interviewees to agree or disagree with the statement "There are so many conflicting reports, I don't know if exercise is good or bad for me." Thirty-seven percent of those earning under $25,000 agreed, compared with about 14 percent making $50,000 to $75,000 and 12 percent of those making $75,000 or more. Only 46 percent of those with earnings under $25,000 agreed with the statement "I would definitely exercise more if I had the time," compared with 68 percent of those making $50,000 to $75,000 and 67 percent of those making $75,000 and up.
Still, in the 1980s, perhaps more than any other decade, the working class, the middle class, and the affluent shared one inclination: the willingness to use television as their predominant personal leisure time activity. Of course, the observation that Americans watch lots of TV instead of doing other things is hardly novel. But, truth be told, a scientifically rigorous study of that pattern was almost nonexistent until the late 1980s and early 1990s. It was then that Larry Tucker, an exercise physiologist at Brigham Young University, decided to study three interrelated
FAT LAND
500,000. Because it was essentially driven by parents who had the free time to cart kids to twice-weekly sessions, and who also had the free time to "volunteer" to referee and coach, AYSO was "essentially a suburban movement," as Lollie Keyes, its current communications director, says. "It really wasn't until later that we focused and found the support for inner-city leagues."
The same could be said for almost every other category of youth sports, or, for that matter, for any other opportunity to play — period: Wherever a chance to freely expend calories appeared, it was likely to be contingent upon parental time and money. Or parental residence: Parks and streets tended to be safer in suburbs. And inner cities, increasingly filled with less politically savvy new immigrants, were often shortchanged in parks and recreation spending, not to mention adequate neighborhood policing. All of this was reflected in a 1999 survey by the Daniel Yankelovich consultancy, citing lack of sidewalks and unsafe neighborhoods as "major barriers to fitness." The new unspoken truth was simple: In America, fitness was to be purchased, even if you were a child.
The realities and values of inner-city immigrant life also augured against investments in fitness. In Los Angeles, the Ellis Island of postwar America, new Latin American immigrants proved to be not much different from previous generations of poor immigrants to the United States (save, perhaps, that their proximity to the border rendered them economically more vulnerable to wave upon wave of wage-undermining newcomers). For one, most of their time was spent simply making ends meet, a process often made more draining by a lack of adequate public transportation, affordable housing, and health care. For another, they were not urbanites but rather urban villagers; like the 1950s generation of Italian Americans, they were and are likely to act upon Old World ideas about exercise and health — in essence, the less the better. Studies by University of Pennsylvania epidemiologists under Professor Shiriki Kumanyika, for example, showed that when new immigrants were asked whether rest was
WHY THE CALORIES STAYED ON OUR BODIES
more important or better for health than exercise, a large portion "always says yes." The attitude was doubly corrosive: Among immigrant groups at the highest risk for hypertension and diabetes (see chapter 6), many respondents said that exercise "has the potential to do more harm than good."
Such attitudes have been reinforced by a growing knowledge gap about health matters. Consider a 2000 study of 1,929 Americans by American Data Sports Inc. Researchers asked interviewees to agree or disagree with the statement "There are so many conflicting reports, I don't know if exercise is good or bad for me." Thirty-seven percent of those earning under $25,000 agreed, compared with about 14 percent making $50,000 to $75,000 and 12 percent of those making $75,000 or more. Only 46 percent of those with earnings under $25,000 agreed with the statement "I would definitely exercise more if I had the time," compared with 68 percent of those making $50,000 to $75,000 and 67 percent of those making $75,000 and up.
Still, in the 1980s, perhaps more than any other decade, the working class, the middle class, and the affluent shared one inclination: the willingness to use television as their predominant personal leisure time activity. Of course, the observation that Americans watch lots of TV instead of doing other things is hardly novel. But, truth be told, a scientifically rigorous study of that pattern was almost nonexistent until the late 1980s and early 1990s. It was then that Larry Tucker, an exercise physiologist at Brigham Young University, decided to study three interrelated
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