COULMN: Fat jokes; The last acceptable form of discrimination
Imagine being so ashamed of something you can’t leave your house for fear of the stares you’ll receive. Imagine being so ashamed of something you cringe when you hear others say words that negatively describe you, though they’re not directed at you.
Ever been there? Do you react, without laughing, to words like “faggot,” “retard,” “nigger” or “dyke?” How about the word “fat?” Or “lard-butt?” Or “hippo?”
Some of those things can be hidden. Nobody has to know you’re gay. Nobody has to know you don’t have a genius I.Q. But you can’t hide your skin colour or your body size. No amount of makeup or clothing will hide that. But do you need to?
MTV recently aired a show about discrimination in popular music. Some black artists call themselves or their friends “nigga.” And it doesn’t seem like a purely black thing. Doesn’t Eminem use the word? The point is, discrimination against black people is on a seemingly downward turn. The “n” word is more or less offensive to most Gen-Xers and for the most part, seems to have left the current lexicon. There’s less need to look white. In fact, there are many white teens who want to look black. Remember “Can’t Hardly Wait?”
The same can be said for gay people, to a point. There seem to be just as many activists against gay-bashing as there are gay-bashers. And the activists seem to be louder. Except for the insane few who take it a bit too far and kill gay men, there generally seems to be an attitude of acceptance in the United States toward gay people.
Can the same be said for fat people?
This shame can’t be kept in a closet or hidden under wraps. There is no amount of fabric to cover the spare tire from view. Everyone can see the cause of your shame, and there is no immediate public outcry to keep them from saying what pops into their heads.
“Tub-o-lard.”
“Fatty fatty two-by-four …”
“BOOM ba ba BOOM ba ba BOOM.”
Everyone can feel free to stare at you as you squeeeeeeeze yourself into a desk or seat in an auditorium.
“What? Is the professor saying something? Can everyone see my fat rolls or does this shirt cover them well enough? Is that guy laughing at me or what his neighbour just said? Are my cheeks on fire or does it just feel that way?”
Nobody seems to stick up for the fat kids. The portly people. But they don’t need protection, right? What they’re doing to their bodies is by a choice they intentionally made. Just like Fat Bastard in “Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me.” Look at the way he ate, for crying out loud. He had so much food on, in and around him it was grotesque. That’s what all fat people are like. They eat and eat and eat until they blow up like a balloon and then sit around watching TV complaining about their treatment in the media.
Right. Just like gay people are choosing to be so and black people are painting themselves for emphasis on their colour. It’s a choice they made, and for it they should be punished. Sure.
What the majority of the general population doesn’t know is that fat isn’t necessarily a result of poor diet or lack of exercise. Sometimes it’s the result of genetics or some kind of incurable disease. It can be the side effect of drugs to cure some other part of the body.
Obesity has grown to near-epidemic proportions, with about one-third of the U.S. population weighing in as clinically obese (that is, weighing an additional 20 to 30 percent of their ideal body weight). That is sad, not funny. And jokes don’t help anyone but the ones telling them. It doesn’t help fat people lose weight. Trust me.
So, what’s causing this sudden outbreak? Food that goes through more processing? Less nutritional information for consumers? Greater advertising ploys used by Doritos as opposed to apple growers? It can be attributed to any number of things, not all of which are the fault of the fat person.
I am fat. I can’t hide it. I get funny looks and stares while walking down the street. I loathe going to class and trying to squeeze into my seat in front of 10, 20 or 250 people. I hate to fly because I despise squishing into one of those seats and feeling like the person next to me is terribly uncomfortable. I have to shop in a section my friends would be bored in. I can’t eat in a restaurant without feeling like the world is watching and whispering.
The point here is fat people are not happy that way and don’t find their size particularly funny. We are simply people who are different. And all I ask is that you treat me, and others like me, as a person, not a tub of lard or zoo animal. I am not on display for your judgment or ridicule.
Fat jokes are the last acceptable form of discrimination. How long will it take for you to stop laughing?
This is Heather Fredrickson’s last column. She wants to thank her readers for their reactions and support. You can e-mail comments to her at slr4h@cc.usu.edu.