Lincoln U’s Too Fat to Graduate Policy

I went back and forth on how or if at all to write about this story. And in my moment of hesitation, the controversial policy was reversed, well amended. But there are still important questions this debacle brings up. The backstory: This fall, Lincoln University, a historically Black institution in Pennsylvania announced the enactment of a new policy designed to combat the “obesity epidemic” prevalent in younger people, particularly black. The school would routinely check and monitor the body mass index (BMI) of students.  Those with a BMI above 30, considered outside the “normal” range, would be required to take a course entitled, “Fitness for Life” where they would exercise, learn healthy eating habits, and ultimately bring their BMI below 30. If they failed to attend the class or successfully lower their BMI they would be prevented from graduating. The uproar around this policy, as expected, was loud and national. The school recently announced that they would no longer be requiring the class for graduation, but it would still be offered and strongly recommended to some students.

Though badly executed and strategically problematic, I don’t think Lincoln’s intentions were as wrong as they were misguided. To fully understand this issue you have to go deeper to the role of colleges and universities in black communities and the very real health crises experienced by marginalized communities.

First off, I think it’s safe to say that any strategy preventing otherwise eligible Black students from graduating college is a really bad strategy.

And while I can understand the concern for student’s survival, I can’t imagine that they would put their degrees in jeopardy. Historically Black colleges and universities (HBCUs) have always served different ends than other institutions of higher learning. They exist, of course, primarily to educate students, black ones, but they emerged from a particular historical moment as the developing grounds for the race’s best and brightest. Deeper than a network, they’re family. Not that these schools are idyllic but it’s important to understand that a HBCU sees its connection to the community in a particular way. Simply put: A HBCU making this requirement of their student body is fundamentally different than Harvard making this request of their students. The relationship is more familial than strictly transactional, though this requirement is problematic in both contexts.

Then there’s the problem of the BMI. Though it’s used widely, many physicians can agree it’s not that useful for monitoring individual health. It’s a chart, a chart that tells you whether you’re fat or skinny, not healthy or unhealthy, not body fat percentage v. lean muscle mass. Fat or skinny.

Health cannot be a question of aesthetics, black people are dying in large numbers at all stages of life due to lack of adequate healthcare, access, and education. But this, I would argue, is not an issue that can be addressed piecemeal. Obesity itself is not the issue – instead the deep seeded, internalized psychological trauma and social depression that accompanies years of oppression and leads to harmful coping strategies remain our major obstacles to health and embodiment. These, compounded with the real lack of access to healthcare and healthy food that poor folks throughout this country face on the daily make truly healthy living a luxury of the rich.

It’s important and notable that Lincoln is taking the health of its community seriously – it is a serious and urgent issue. But we can’t be fooled by the Jenny Craig ads. Good health and low weight are not analogous terms. Black health, and the health of all oppressed communities, has to be addressed holistically – on the community and individual levels and on the psychological and physiological. I hope the next institution to take a look at this will come up with something more thoughtful and can bring us closer to actually addressing this issue.

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