Disabled Environmentalists Explain Eco-Ableism in Food Sustainability
Eco-ableism across food sustainability practices often creates programs that leave them out of the access loop. For FoodPrint.org, I speak with disabled environmentalists around the world.
Food Sustainability + Disability
A few years ago, I walked up a New York City avenue laden with cloth shopping bags, trying not to cry. As part of a 60-day study of zero waste living for my book, The Me, Without, I had taken the subway, then a bus, and then journeyed on foot a few blocks to one of the few uptown stores selling bulk produce, pantry items and cleaning products. With reused plastic containers full to the brim, I now struggled to get everything back home.
I wasn’t as disabled as I’d describe myself today—I was still able to take the subway, shop in stores, and generally spend expend more social energy than I can now. Yet I hadn’t anticipated that a dedicated study of zero waste living would heighten the difficulties of eating sustainably while even as disabled as I then was. As I reported in my book, handwashing cloth handkerchiefs during a cold was certainly inconvenient. But blending homemade almond milk during a migraine and lugging bulk items fifty blocks home was proving hazardous to my health.
The pandemic reshaped how many healthy, non-disabled people thought about access to fresh, nourishing foods—the plethora of delivery and curbside pickup programs that exist today is easy proof of that. But when the environmental impact of such programs started to be criticized by food sustainability activists, their eco-ableism started to shine through.
What is eco-ableism?
Eco-ableism is discrimination towards disabled people within environmental activism. Examples of eco-ableism in food sustainability practices include:
The straw ban, which removed safe drinking access for those with motor-planning, strength, and other disabilities but was largely hailed by non-disabled environmentalists as a step toward ending single-use plastics viewed only as a wasteful luxury item.
Requiring local residents to recycle or compost food scraps when many disabled people cannot physically move recycling containers to curbs or bring items to transfer stations.
Designing farmer’s markets with inadequate access for mobility aid users.
Interviewing disabled environmentalists for FoodPrint.org, I noticed some trends around their thoughts on disability and sustainability and (of course) came away with more excellent insights than I could fit into a 1000-word article.
Below are some of those insights, edited slightly for clarity and credited largely as I was asked to credit those who were generous in sharing their thoughts.
I hope they help you better understand and educate those around you.
What food sustainability efforts don’t work for you given your specific disability?
Key Takeaways:
Local markets and farmer’s markets are often physically inaccessible for mobility aid users. They can also overstimulate and exhaust those with cognitive disabilities or energy depletion.
Many disabled environmentalists cannot afford the increased cost of local food products.
Many disabled people regularly lack the energy to prepare whole or bulk items. As such, they rely on prepared produce in single-use packaging.
Insight from disabled environmentalists:
“I can’t go walk around at a farmer’s market and usually don’t have the energy to cook from scratch.” — Hana C, an ICU nurse in the southwest living with multiple severe autoimmune conditions
“Instacart lets me buy from local supermarkets—anything else is just inaccessible. I’m housebound and extremely disabled.” — K, an autistic person with several chronic illnesses living in St. Louis
“I tend to purchase individually packaged and pre-prepped items, which produce way more plastic waste than I would prefer. I also rely on websites like Amazon for larger/heavier items that would be difficult for me to physically purchase and transport home, as well as for things that I’d have to go to extra places to find. My energy is really limited so I have to cut corners whenever I can, even if it’s not the most eco-friendly choice.” — Lisa Trainor, a neurodivergent and chronically ill writer and speaker in Princeton, NJ
“If I buy anything that spoils or rots in bulk, I can never use it in time. When there is a barrier to entry, like one extra step I need to do in order to use an item, sometimes that results in my not using it.” Eliza Orlins, a New York-based public defender and former candidate for Manhattan DA with ADHD.
“A lot of it for me has to do with money and time: I can’t buy everything at natural grocers because it’s so expensive and it’s more difficult to access those places. I want to go to farmers markets more, but they are also often not very accessible and take a lot of time and effort to get to which is exhausting. I cannot give up drinking bottled water right now. Even though I do my best to use everything up, because of the way my brain works and because my chronic illnesses are so unpredictable, even if I buy fresh things I often don’t end up having the energy to cook or use them in time.” Elliot Barber, a Missouri-based autistic, ADHD, and chronically ill cane user, student, writer, and activist
“Anything that requires a lot of prep work is something that I am only able to do periodically and not something I can count on being able to manage each week. Shopping from farmers markets or places that give us access to local foods is an impossibility the amount of energy required, and many are not set up in a way that are accessible for mobility limitations; those that are accessible are frequently indoors and much more overstimulating and exhausting then traditional supermarkets. I have looked into ordering from various programs and collectives, but I just cannot make it work in my budget on a single income.” — Margaret McGough, a disabled and chronically ill mother caring for a disabled family in Baltimore.
“Because I live in a rural area, I do not have access to several of the nearby city’s fresh/local food initiatives or deliveries. CSA boxes are too expensive, as we live off of my partner’s income. There are no composting options for us due to our small apartment in our town’s downtown area.” — Leslie Kay Stratton, a Central Kentucky-based graduate student, who has several chronic illnesses
“Buying in bulk and local is the dream but take extra cognitive and physical energy. This can involve extra planning, sourcing, decisions, calculations, budgeting, ordering, carrying, storing, decanting, compared to making one grocery order a week and selecting from what is available there.” — Claire Huntley, an Australian yoga teacher with ME/CFS
"I would love to shop local and from local farmers. But this doesn’t work for me because of expense, COVID (no masking), and having a set day to pick up items. Also, refusing single use items: I’ve tried and in the long run it’s impossible for me to keep the house clean, dishes washed, laundry done when I’m sick in bed for days or dealing with other issues that limit my ability to “housekeep”. I have been trying to accept that I can use paper plates or other single use items without feeling guilty." — Abby Martin*, a person in Connecticut with multiple chronic illnesses
“Getting locally grown foods is surprisingly difficult because there isn't a lot of infrastructure for that where we live. California's Central Valley is a very agricultural area. Ironically, we don't really have CSA boxes readily available. So to get locally grown food, you have to go to a roadside stand or to individual farms for thing you want. Which sounds great if that's something you are able to do and something you're very interested in. But if I have to sit down and plan out, ‘Where can I get strawberries?’ I can't do that. That's a huge burden, not only to go and find the strawberry stand, but to plan ahead for that, because so much of everything that I deal with just drains my brain.” — Rook Stone, a nonbinary, disabled author in California's Central Valley
What food sustainability practices do work for you?
Key Takeaways:
Having help from roommates, family members, and friends plays a key role when physical disability and sustainability efforts collide.
Proximity is everything as many disabled people must consistently regulate energy output: A curbside recycling program may be accessible while driving recyclable items to a town transfer station is not.
Insight from disabled environmentalists:
“This year I bought worm farm that sits in my house—I put all my compost in there since there are many days/weeks I can’t get out to a composter (or get my garbage out). It really helps me deal with food waste, regular compostable items, and junk mail/cardboard.” — Abby Martin, a person who lives in CT and deals with multiple chronic illnesses
“I have other household members who are able to take on the responsibility for tasks such as rinsing recyclable containers, emptying kitchen recycling and compost collection bins, maintaining garden compost bins, and taking recycling to curb. This makes it possible to sustain recycling and composting as these tasks take significant energy compared to dumping everything into the garbage bin. They also do much of the food preparation and dishes, which allows us to purchase less packaged food.” — Claire Huntley, an Australian yoga teacher with ME/CFS
“My building does not collect recycling, but the one next door does, and they allow us to use their bins as well (but it is a bit of a walk). There’s a very small farmers’ market about a block away from my apartment on Saturday mornings, from May through October. And my local Kroger has a lot of pre-cut produce available that helps with meal prep.” — Leslie Kay Stratton, a Central Kentucky-based graduate student, who has several chronic illnesses
“My house all recycles and that is doable for me. We are able to put recycling out and have it picked up—if I had to make lots of trips to take it somewhere it wouldn’t work to recycle everything. We reuse bottles and jars and other things a lot as well. We also compost, because we have a nearby campus community garden we take it to when our bucket gets full.” — Elliot Barber, a Missouri-based autistic, ADHD, and chronically ill cane user, student, writer, and activist
"I spent the money to buy a fancy trash can that has separate sides for recycling and regular trash and so I don't find recycling hard. Also, I stopped using the drawers in my fridge for produce because of how often it would rot there. I now use the drawers for drinks and put fruits and vegetables where I can see them. " — Eliza Orlins, a New York-based public defender and former candidate for Manhattan DA with ADHD.
“Because my partner is not disabled, I am able to participate in recycling and composting with his help. I have a mostly accessible local farmer’s market I attend (as close to) weekly (as I am up to) between May and November which helps me access food from local growers and businesses more easily. I also try to cook with limited food waste, using every product as completely as possible and using up perishables before they go bad but that’s more hit or miss depending on my pain and fatigue.” — Lisa Trainor, a neurodivergent and chronically ill writer and speaker in Princeton, NJ
How has the COVID-19 pandemic affected your access to sustainable food practices—for better or worse?
Key Takeaways:
Access to online ordering and delivery of groceries has been essential to disabled people during the pandemic.
This need continues for many high-risk disabled people still in COVID isolation. But they would benefit from this regularly post-pandemic, too.
Insight from disabled environmentalists:
“The expansion of delivery has helped a lot. Even if I’m holed up in bed barely able to move, I can get things delivered, from a toothbrush to a baked potato. I’m not stuck waiting for a tiny energy boost to go to the store.” – Hana C, an ICU nurse in the southwest living with multiple severe autoimmune conditions
“I am able to pick up groceries more easily now, and some restaurants are moving to more sustainable takeout containers.” — Jen Radomski, a chronically ill and disabled resident of Columbus, OH and the co-founder of the sustainable Wild Prairie Flower Farm
"I have always felt much less safe going to grocery stores than my peers during this pandemic—wearing a mask is important, being higher risk, but it also can cause me to get overheated more than normal and possibly make me feel more out of breath. One improvement, though, is that pretty much all grocery stores now have added online ordering and curbside pickup or delivery, with more, cheaper options. Many of them can even take food stamps for online orders now. That definitely makes things more accessible to me and my friends.” — Elliot Barber, a Missouri-based autistic, ADHD, and chronically ill cane user, student, writer, and activist
“The ability to order grocery delivery has made many aspects of my life significantly easier. I am frustrated at the costs, particularly as shoppers are incentivized to sub out cheaper items from more expensive ones to increase their tip. And the process of trying to make choices through the filter of someone else if the thing I have ordered is out of stock is impossible for me so I often just accept whatever replacement they think is good enough even if it's not what I would have preferred.” — Margaret McGough, a disabled and chronically ill mother caring for a disabled family in Baltimore
“We go into the nearby city less, so we’re less likely to be able to drop by the co-op grocery (approximately 30 minutes away) to pick up local products. Delivery options have definitely expanded, but due to living in a rural area, we are limited to mostly fast food restaurants a town over. I also contracted COVID in January 2021, and I have been dealing with reduced energy and increased mental fog/word recall since. This hasn’t helped in my household’s planning and/or ability to cook meals.” — Leslie Kay Stratton, a Central Kentucky-based graduate student, who has several chronic illnesses
“With grocery delivery it’s been really hard to get any fresh fruits or vegetables: you can place a delivery order but, even if they don’t have things, you pay for that delivery plus tip. It’s an expensive gamble to pay for another shopper to hopefully be there when things are available. This is probably a common problem for people who don’t have friends/family to shop for them. Also due to not getting treatments due to COVID delays, I’m feeling worse and less able to cook and shop for myself.” — Abby Martin*, a person in Connecticut with multiple chronic illnesses
“While we always had access to grocery delivery in NYC, about a dozen new ultrafast grocers now exist. So I don't have to plan ahead and schedule a delivery time—I can just order my groceries on demand and have them within 15 minutes. This is great for someone like me with ADHD where I can forget an ingredient for something I want to make, or I can simply forget to buy food or eat. But I recognize the financial privilege I have in that these services can be very expensive, especially because so many people with disabilities are low-income folks who don't have the same access.” — Eliza Orlins, a New York-based public defender and former candidate for Manhattan DA with ADHD
“I definitely benefited from the expansion of Instacart (and DoorDash for takeout) and the increased availability of delivery shoppers and drivers. I don’t approve of either company’s employee/contractor practices, but I would not have been able to consistently stock my home with fresh foods without it. With the amount of pain and fatigue I consistently experience, a weekly grocery shopping trip is almost impossible to budget into my life without dramatically cutting back elsewhere. I wish there was a more ethical (but equally convenient) option. But it’s just not something I can physically afford to stop doing at this point.” — Lisa Trainor, a neurodivergent and chronically ill writer and speaker in Princeton, NJ
What do you want non-disabled people to better understand about eco-ableism in food sustainability?
Key Takeaways:
Living with chronic pain and exhaustion mean prioritizing basic survival needs over sustainability efforts.
Disabled people often feel blamed for the environmental footprint. But corporations and governments can make a greater impact on climate change. And so the responsibility should not fall on disabled individuals.
Insight from disabled environmentalists:
“I’m in pain. I can’t go to the farmer’s market, buy organic kale and garlic, and make dinner. I’d like to, but I just can’t. It’s not that I don’t want to, but I just can’t.” — Hana C, an ICU nurse in the southwest living with multiple severe autoimmune conditions
“There are so many places where you have food deserts or you're more rural like we are, and [CSA boxes and delivery of local items] aren't options. But people who care about the environment, people who care about sustainability, and people who are disabled still live in these places. There is still a need for those things in food deserts and rural communities.” — Rook Stone, a nonbinary, disabled author in California's Central Valley
“They don’t get that I can’t drive and that I depend on products they think are wasteful. They would literally rather I starve than make things easier for me. I’m barely surviving.” — K, an autistic person with several chronic illnesses living in St. Louis
“Because of my illnesses, I am forced to focus almost entirely on my own survival—especially because community care options are so limited and inaccessible in our society. Sometimes that means putting my environmental goals on the back burner which I feel terrible about. But I’m not realistically in a place to think about that over my own needs. Focusing on the individual is also just really short sighted, considering it’s major corporations causing the vast majority of the environmental issues on our planet and not singular disabled people.” — Lisa Trainor, a neurodivergent and chronically ill writer and speaker in Princeton, NJ
“The way you found me was from this tweet. I think people have a hard time understanding why some folks need to buy fruit that can be consumed as is—like berries—or pre-cut/pre-peeled fruit and vegetables. It's more expensive and also less eco-friendly, but sometimes the choice is between being wasteful on one end or either not being able to consume fruits and vegetables or allowing them to rot and wasting them on the other end. Personal responsibility for climate change is insufficient to address the crisis. PERIOD. Yes, we should all be doing the best we can, but plastic straws should remain available. People with disabilities may not be able to hold a cup and it's an excuse for ableism.” — Eliza Orlins, a New York-based public defender and former candidate for Manhattan DA with ADHD
“It’s the corporations, not the consumers that need to step up and make changes so that disabled people can balance access needs with sustainable choices.” — Jen Radomski, a chronically ill and disabled resident of Columbus, OH and the co-founder of the sustainable Wild Prairie Flower Farm
For tips on how you can directly help fight eco-ableism in food sustainability practices, head to my article at FoodPrint.org