As I write this column, I’m sitting in One Wheelock with two empty containers in my workspace — one a 130-calorie coffee-flavored Greek yogurt, the other an 120-calorie gluten-free, vegan chocolate pudding. At the back of my mind, I think to myself, “I’m feeling peckish, but if grab a muffin right now, how many calories does that leave me for dinner?” I fear that my calorie counting is not an unhealthy habit that only I have, but one that I share with many other students here at Dartmouth.
In 2010, the National Association of Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders labeled the current situation of eating disorders on college campuses a “crisis.” Eating disorders, as described by the American Psychological Association, consist of “abnormal eating habits that can threaten your health or even your life.” Individuals with eating disorders may have distorted views of their bodies, binge eat or purge after eating. A 2010 survey of counselors and other professionals conducted by the Eating Disorders Recovery Center revealed that most college students did not get treatment for an eating disorder, with a shocking 82 percent “unwilling to seek treatment.” Eating disorders are not acknowledged and treated readily enough.
Eating disorders can be facilitated by insecurities about body image. In some cases, they can consume one’s life. An eating disorder is like a parasite that transforms the way one thinks — in their worst form, eating disorders can become a way to derive a sense of achievement and fulfillment.
The 2014 Dartmouth Health Survey reveals that 10 percent of respondents indicated experiencing an eating disorder or related concern, similar to health survey results of previous years. I argue that these results, however, do not show the complete picture. Even if a large majority of students do not report experience with eating disorders, many students still do not think or talk about food in a healthy way, and we enable a culture of disordered eating in which eating disorders can go unnoticed.
My view may be based on anecdotes and overheard conversations about students’ relationships with food and their bodies, but there are glimpses that suggest a less-than-desirable image of student life and happiness. When I walk to Alumni Gym, I often find groups of students obsessed with physical fitness. The prevalence of form-fitting clothing like Lululemon yoga pants certainly does not help — how can we not feel insecure about every tuck and curve of our thighs when leggings are an integral part of campus style? In the King Arthur Flour line, I have overheard conversations between students about whether or not they should get a roll or an apple with their salad intermingled with calculations of how many beer calories were shot-gunned the night before. When I get to the cashier, I fiercely debate in my head whether I should get whole or skim milk for my chai tea latte.
We must also keep in mind are expectations we have of ourselves. I believe that the stereotype of the Dartmouth student is a harmful one. As Conan O’Brien said, the Dartmouth student is the “cool, sexually-confident lacrosse-playing younger sibling who knows how to throw a party and looks good in a down vest.” While O’Brien’s remark was a joke, it does shed light on how we imagine the “typical” Dartmouth students — and we can’t all live up to the preppy, athletic ideal.
Drinking habits also contribute to students’ unhealthy relationship with food. I myself can admit to having limited what I ate during the day for fear that I might drink that night, even though common sense should tell me that a full stomach before consuming alcohol is best. “Beer diets” that forego food during the day to save space for the calories that come from beer are not unheard of on campus. Students, male and female alike, can be acutely aware of what they consume, regardless of whether it is food or alcohol.
We must fight these negative pressures on our relationship with food. We should be more open to confronting our unhealthy eating habits and talking about body image issues on campus. Eating disorder resources should receive sustained publicity, so that students always know where to go for help. Otherwise, we risk perpetuating an environment where those with eating disorders and disordered eating struggle alone, unable or afraid to get the treatment they need.
