Three Ways of Feeding America
All across the United States, Americans visit various grocery stores to purchase food and drinks to meet the physical need of feeding themselves. This most basic of activities, with the most basic goals and outcomes, cannot escape humans’ tendencies to create societal and cultural norms aligned with the act, however. In an attempt to analyze some of these patterns, I visited three different types of places to buy food in the US--a large superstore, an organic grocer, and a farmer’s market--and recorded my experience.
My first stop is my hometown’s local Meijer, one of the popular large supermarkets in the US. A mere five minutes’ drive from my house, the Meijer looms large with its enormous parking lot and surrounding gas stations and fast food restaurants. Customers bustle in and out of several entrances on this busy Saturday afternoon. There is very little racial diversity in these shoppers, which is strange because the surrounding area is incredibly diverse; the closest high school has the most minority students of the school district. The building itself is simple to navigate. It is set up to be as convenient as possible, with the goal of providing an easy shopping experience and enticing customers to return. The large signs hanging from the ceiling direct shoppers to appropriate areas of the store, and even the aisles are labeled with every type of product that lines their shelves.
My first stop is my hometown’s local Meijer, one of the popular large supermarkets in the US. A mere five minutes’ drive from my house, the Meijer looms large with its enormous parking lot and surrounding gas stations and fast food restaurants. Customers bustle in and out of several entrances on this busy Saturday afternoon. There is very little racial diversity in these shoppers, which is strange because the surrounding area is incredibly diverse; the closest high school has the most minority students of the school district. The building itself is simple to navigate. It is set up to be as convenient as possible, with the goal of providing an easy shopping experience and enticing customers to return. The large signs hanging from the ceiling direct shoppers to appropriate areas of the store, and even the aisles are labeled with every type of product that lines their shelves.
At the front of the store, produce welcomes shoppers with its friendly, all-natural aura. I grab a package of blueberries before noticing another display that is two dollars cheaper per package—when I wonder aloud why one stand of the fruit is cheaper than the other, my boyfriend points out that the blueberries I picked are labeled “organic.” One can hardly blame me for not noticing the difference; all of the produce is placed in nearly identical packaging. In fact, the whole store is full of products packaged in plastic. Even the checkout line provides small plastic bags for customers’ purchases. All of this packaging could be viewed as wasteful, or even dangerous. Chemicals unfit for consumption exist in these packages and seep into food itself in trace amounts. The Food and Drug Administration (FDA) is aware of this occurrence and has labeled these chemicals “indirect food additives”, as described by Susan Freinkel in her article “Trace Chemicals in Everyday Food Packaging…” (1). Over 3,000 of these indirect additives are approved for use by the FDA, but some of these chemicals still used today were approved as long ago as the 1960s (1-3). So, do any of the other places I visit avoid this excessive packaging? Are there Americans escaping this process?
I am eager to investigate the answers to these questions and compare the other observations I made when I visit Whole Foods the next day. Whole Foods is arguably the most popular organic grocer in the US. Shoppers exit with only one or two brown paper bags, which seems less wasteful (and safer, if one is concerned about indirect food additives) than all the plastic bags at Meijer. However, this more eco-friendly process is undermined by Whole Foods requiring shoppers to measure out most of their purchases, especially produce, into individual plastic bags. The interior is painted in earthy tones, a welcome contrast to the eyesore of white walls and fluorescent lighting in Meijer. These colors also reinforce the organic, natural theme Whole Foods is known for. The shoppers themselves represent interesting ideas, too. There is a lot more racial diversity in Whole Foods, and everyone is dressed at least somewhat nicer than the average Meijer shopper. There are more families shopping together, with kids involved in the selection of foods, whereas Meijer had more lone shoppers. This led me to believe that the average Whole Foods customer is of a higher financial class than the average Meijer shopper, and these families have more time to make grocery shopping a social or family event.
I am eager to investigate the answers to these questions and compare the other observations I made when I visit Whole Foods the next day. Whole Foods is arguably the most popular organic grocer in the US. Shoppers exit with only one or two brown paper bags, which seems less wasteful (and safer, if one is concerned about indirect food additives) than all the plastic bags at Meijer. However, this more eco-friendly process is undermined by Whole Foods requiring shoppers to measure out most of their purchases, especially produce, into individual plastic bags. The interior is painted in earthy tones, a welcome contrast to the eyesore of white walls and fluorescent lighting in Meijer. These colors also reinforce the organic, natural theme Whole Foods is known for. The shoppers themselves represent interesting ideas, too. There is a lot more racial diversity in Whole Foods, and everyone is dressed at least somewhat nicer than the average Meijer shopper. There are more families shopping together, with kids involved in the selection of foods, whereas Meijer had more lone shoppers. This led me to believe that the average Whole Foods customer is of a higher financial class than the average Meijer shopper, and these families have more time to make grocery shopping a social or family event.
One of the most interesting observations I made was in the spice aisle. The labels are a lot louder than the ones in Meijer—there is no chance of my selecting one brand and being unable to differentiate it from another. While searching for basil, I find five different kinds of the spice with prices ranging from three to ten dollars for a single jar. The most expensive brand boasts that it is non-GMO, and even the store-brand basil comes in two versions, one that is GMO-free (and more expensive for it) and one that isn’t. Companies taking financial advantage of shoppers that fear GMOs is not uncommon. In The New York Times article “…Other G.M.O. Misconceptions,” author Amy Harmon delves into this phenomenon, describing how certain oats companies label their products as GMO-free even though genetically modified oats aren’t available for public consumption in the first place (1). These companies are most likely looking to attract those in search of clean, non-processed foods, like the shoppers at Whole Foods, since this type of aggressive non-GMO labeling isn’t present in Meijer.
My final visit is to the Allen Neighborhood Center’s farmer’s market in East Lansing. This shopping center is the most social of the three, as shoppers must interact with individual sellers to select every single product they buy. Even I, a total introvert, feel engaged enough to make small talk with the sellers and compliment them on how delicious the food looks. Despite the increased interaction with the sellers, individual groups of shoppers still tend to keep to themselves. During my visit I buy a croissant and a package of strawberries, both of which taste amazing. I was surprised to see that both stands sold their products to me in plastic bags exactly like the ones used at Meijer—even in the most wholesome of grocers, one cannot escape plastic. Interestingly enough, the prices at the market are about the same as the prices at Meijer or Whole Foods, but the selection is a lot narrower, so it wouldn’t be viable as the sole place to shop. It could be a great place to go for food like bread or vegetables if they are sold on a weekly basis, especially if one likes knowing the people and farms their food comes from.
My final visit is to the Allen Neighborhood Center’s farmer’s market in East Lansing. This shopping center is the most social of the three, as shoppers must interact with individual sellers to select every single product they buy. Even I, a total introvert, feel engaged enough to make small talk with the sellers and compliment them on how delicious the food looks. Despite the increased interaction with the sellers, individual groups of shoppers still tend to keep to themselves. During my visit I buy a croissant and a package of strawberries, both of which taste amazing. I was surprised to see that both stands sold their products to me in plastic bags exactly like the ones used at Meijer—even in the most wholesome of grocers, one cannot escape plastic. Interestingly enough, the prices at the market are about the same as the prices at Meijer or Whole Foods, but the selection is a lot narrower, so it wouldn’t be viable as the sole place to shop. It could be a great place to go for food like bread or vegetables if they are sold on a weekly basis, especially if one likes knowing the people and farms their food comes from.
So, I observed and experienced three different ways to buy food in the US, and each had its own unique factors—but there were many similarities I found surprising. Most differences between the shopping centers were somewhat predictable: different themes for decoration, like paint colors or display signs; the social class, racial diversity, and wealthiness of shoppers; and more interaction with sellers and the food itself the more shoppers distanced themselves from “corporate” grocers. The similarities (beyond that each place sells food) were unexpected: an abundance of food packaging, especially in plastic containers and bags; the tendency for shoppers to keep to their own groups; and the price range of similar products. There was a lot to gain from shopping at each location, but my final conclusion after experiencing all three is that whichever store one enjoys the most is where he or she should probably shop, whether it be the largest supermarket ever built or the tiniest farmer’s market down the street. I know I’ll probably stop by all of them again sometime soon.