To truly understand food deserts, we must first explore what food is – and what it is not. Authentic food, in my opinion, is created by a higher power and not manufactured in a lab. It’s the real, nutrient-rich sustenance that our grandparents thrived on: food grown in gardens or raised on farms, like fresh vegetables, fruits, chickens and cows. Contrast this with much of what we consume today – processed, packaged, and preserved products marketed as “food.”
This shift has contributed to an epidemic of chronic diseases, particularly in the African American community. Research increasingly shows a disturbing connection between ultra-processed food and conditions like diabetes, hypertension, cancer and obesity.
My journey toward better eating began in 2008, a pivotal year when I started embracing plant-based eating. As a young African American man growing up in Roanoke, the idea of veganism seemed almost taboo. Eating healthy was seen as strange and was often met with teasing at family gatherings or among friends.
Fast forward to 2024, and the landscape has shifted. More Black Americans are embracing plant-based diets, driven by mounting evidence of the benefits of whole, natural foods. Walking into spaces like the Roanoke Co-op Natural Foods Store for the first time, I was struck by the abundance of fresh, organic produce and the uplifting energy of those around me. I began to realize how closely food is tied to mood, health, and community.
This awareness starkly contrasted with my upbringing in Southwest (SW) Roanoke. Meals in my household often included seafood from Chuck’s or breakfast sandwiches from Mrs. Libby’s, alongside fast food staples. These meals, though prepared with love, weren’t always the healthiest. In SW and Northwest (NW) Roanoke, ultra-processed foods were a norm, not an exception, contributing to the health disparities that plague these communities.
The term “food desert” wasn’t part of my vocabulary until I began prioritizing my health. Food deserts are areas, often in Black and Brown communities, where access to fresh, nutritious food is scarce. Instead, residents are left to rely on fast food and convenience stores that stock mainly processed items like chips, cookies, and frozen meals.
The consequences are profound. When people are trapped in food deserts and forced to consume ultra-processed options, the question arises: Can these foods harm our bodies and our minds? Research suggests a link between diet and mental health, raising the possibility that poor nutrition could contribute to behavioral issues and even violence.
Hippocrates once said, “Let food be thy medicine.” I believe this wholeheartedly. But what happens when medicine isn’t available, and communities are left with food that acts as poison instead?
For years, I dreamed of creating a space in Northwest Roanoke where residents could access fresh, healthy food. During my decade-long tenure at the Roanoke Co-op, I collaborated with local leaders to explore opening a cooperative in NW. Though those plans didn’t materialize, the vision never faded.
Now, in 2024, that dream has taken a significant step forward with the opening of Market on Melrose, a grocery store in NW brought to life by GOODWILL and dedicated community advocates. This is more than just a store; it’s a beacon of hope, a catalyst for change in a region long neglected.
The market on Melrose represents a turning point for NW Roanoke. It provides access to fresh produce and healthier food options, something the community has lacked for generations. Beyond improving physical health, this store has the potential to foster social cohesion – a place where neighbors connect, share recipes, and learn about nutrition.
The store’s arrival also symbolizes the power of collective action. It’s a tangible example of what can be achieved when a community comes together to address systemic issues. However, challenges remain. Affordability is a significant concern, as fresh and organic foods are often more expensive than their processed counterparts. Education is also critical. After years of reliance on processed foods, many residents may not know how to incorporate healthier options into their diets.
The opening of Market on Melrose offers an opportunity to reframe the narrative around food in NW Roanoke. It allows the community to embrace a new way of living – one centered on health, self-sufficiency, and connection. This is the beginning of a journey toward healing a community that has long been underserved.
For me, food isn’t just sustenance; it’s medicine. It’s culture. It’s a bridge to a better future. The African American community in NW Roanoke now has a chance to reclaim its health, one meal at a time.
Let us continue to build on this momentum, ensuring that healthy food isn’t a privilege but a basic human right accessible to all. Together, we can transform food deserts into oases of health and hope.
