COLUMN: Lunch choice isn't everything

From Miranda Salomon's "Notes From the Lilypad," Fall '96 From Miranda Salomon's "Notes From the Lilypad," Fall '96If women were not obsessedFrom Miranda Salomon's "Notes From the Lilypad," Fall '96If women were not obsessedwith calories and fat, theFrom Miranda Salomon's "Notes From the Lilypad," Fall '96If women were not obsessedwith calories and fat, thecampus would be better off. From Miranda Salomon's "Notes From the Lilypad," Fall '96If women were not obsessedwith calories and fat, thecampus would be better off. During my three-years-and-change at the University, Penn women have been accused of dressing up too much for class, criticized for walking around in unacceptably dowdy sweatshirts and scrunchies, whispered of ranking near the bottom of a mythical list that rates undergraduate female attractiveness and begged to pose nude for Playboy. We're going to be watched, and we're going to be labeled, and we're going be told we're wrong no matter how we try to deal with it. If it were only a couple of insensitive, misogynistic guys doing the judging, the problem would be real but ultimately peripheral to the lives of Penn women. But the problem is worse than that. Many Penn women have developed a culture of self-criticism, in which every calorie must be counted and mentioned, and in which we watch each other to see who's eating what, who's working out and how much of both. That's not to say every woman at Penn worries every day about how she looks. And there's nothing wrong with wanting to look good; watching what you eat and exercising are the way to stay healthy. The danger comes when there's pressure all the time, to choose food based not on how hungry you are but on how you look eating it, like eating a low-calorie salad instead of macaroni and cheese. I can't remember having a meal with my friends in which someone didn't mention calories or fat content. Women who eat more than their peers often make self-depreciating comments, even if they're athletes who need to eat more to have the energy to play. Few eat without apologizing, or without justifying a large dinner with "I didn't eat lunch." For some, the habit of talking about food during meals started in high school, or earlier. One guy I know, who attended a prestigious private school in the Philadelphia area, told me practically no girls ate in his high school cafeteria -- they would skip lunch, while the guys ate every day. While this is an extreme example, obsession about food is not limited to prep school kids. At my large public high school, I remember a girl who would skip lunch and use the free hour to run laps around the track. Everyone was in awe of her self-control and motivation, but thinking back, I wonder why she couldn't wait until after school to exercise. For many, however, self-consciousness about eating doesn't start until they get to college. It can start as part of natural conversation, when you're in the dining hall with people you've just met, and there's nothing to talk about except the food you're eating. Everyone has heard of the Freshman 15, but people don't talk about the high percentage of freshmen who actually lose weight at college. Sometimes it's healthy, but often it's not. Skipping meals, exercising to the point of collapse and living on a diet of fat-free frozen yogurt might help you lose weight, but it will cause real damage in the process. Living as a residential advisor on a hall of freshmen, I notice attitudes about food. Most of my kids seem to be eating pretty well, though there are a few who haven't yet adjusted to the harsh reality of institutional dining. But when I asked the women what they ate one day last week, they remembered everything, right down to the number of celery sticks. A friend who is a member of Guidance for Understanding Image, Dieting and Eating, a peer health education group, tells me that nine out of 10 women on college campuses are preoccupied with food, while one in 10 have actual eating disorders. That's a very general statistic, and specific numbers for our campus have not been compiled, but the problem at Penn may very well be worse than the national average. I would never say that looks don't matter. We live in a visual society, in which the way you dress can make a greater impression than what you have to say. But we're not here at Penn just because we're attractive. We're here because someone thought each of us has something important to say, some talent or skill that made us stand out from the rest of the applicant pool. We should be able to eat without worrying or go for a run if we feel like running -- not because anybody tells us we ought to. In an ideal world, no one would attempt to tell Penn women how to dress or how to eat. We wouldn't feel the need to compare ourselves to the people around us, and we would be able to accept our own bodies, whatever their types. I'm not immune to the pressure; I think about what I eat almost every day of my life. And I don't have a solution, though I wish I did. Maybe if we make a conscious effort to not judge, criticize or comment on what other people choose to eat or wear, we'll be able to give ourselves some of that same freedom.