Fatphobia and Body Shaming in Drum Corps

Body shaming and fatphobia in drum & bugle corps are among the most challenging issues that MAASIN and PRSOPER handle. Proving discrimination or harassment on the basis of size within an activity that equates leanness with physical fitness is a challenge in itself. The fact that performers must be able to endure the physical challenges of a season provides offenders with a plausible excuse: they are simply being proactive about preventing overuse injuries. Even with a plethora of evidence, confronting organizations about these degrading experiences and exclusionary practices yields little results, in part because body size is not a legally protected class.

As with most issues of discrimination, education and awareness go a long way. In this blog post, we’ll explore how body shaming and fatphobia have become so engrained in drum corps and what we can do.

What is body shaming and fatphobia?

In the context of drum corps, body shaming and fatphobia are biases that contribute to educational environments where members’ body size and shape are perceived as more important than their execution of a technique. A classic example of body shaming is the guard caption head who polices the amount of food guard members put on their plates. “No seconds for you!” the caption head yells at the rifle soloist. A culture that promotes body shaming means the soloist’s abilities are not relevant in this situation, only bodily appearance. 

Fatphobia is less obvious, but those who have experienced it don’t need an explanation. “Fatphobia” describes the biases and prejudices that are assigned to fat, large, or otherwise non-thin individuals; it is the unspoken prejudice that associates someone’s size with their abilities, work ethic, and personality. A fat member is assumed to be at fault, even in situations where it is quite the opposite, such as if they are injured because someone else strayed too far from their pathway during a passthrough. In auditions, fatphobia can result in a performer receiving significantly more negative feedback than a thinner person who is not as skilled or experienced. Like body shaming, it’s the assumption that bodily appearance has a direct correlation to a performer’s potential to be an exemplary member. 

Staff and administrators are not the only ones to contribute to this toxic culture. Members often perpetuate fatphobia and body shaming, too. Degrading nick names, hazing or bullying, “jokes,” and other exclusionary actions and practices all serve to uphold the idea that fat members do not belong so long as they remain fat. Though intended to be a positive way to highlight the physical demands of the activity and celebrate members’ hard work, the  “body by drum corps” social media trend further upholds the associations between weight loss, thinness, and what the ideal drum corps member should look like.

How did we get here?

Fatphobia is nothing new for Western cultures. Historians, sociologists, and anthropologists alike have identified fatphobia as centuries old. For example, in her 2019 book, “Fearing the Black Body: The Racial Origins of Fat Phobia,” Professor Sabrina Strings, PhD (UC Santa Barbara), traced fatphobia back to the Age of Enlightenment (late 1600s - early 1800s) in Western Europe, when fatness became a sign of Africans’ purported savegry and moral inferiority amid the transatlantic slave trade. Early medical sciences codified these transparently anti-Black biases as medical facts. Although we’ve come to recognize that uteruses aren’t the source for all maladies and that heroin is not the best treatment for a cough, the direct and unmutable correlation between body size and health has only been truly called into question in the twenty-first century. 

Long after colonialist practices initially wove anti-fatness into the American cultural fabric, drum corps emerged and did so hand-in-hand with fitness culture. Drum corps took off after WWII, when returning veterans sought to recreate the sense of belonging and a regimented environment they experienced as soldiers. Around the same time, Cold War politics promoted the idea that physical fitness was a sign of moral fortitude: being physically “soft” was undesirable because it meant you posed a risk to national security. Tinged with value judgements, the terms “fit,” “lean,” and “healthy” became synonymous with one another by the 1970s. This has resulted in cultural myths that an individual’s worth or the quality of their character can be determined by body shape.

The act of judging someone by their size found a welcoming home in the activity as the physical demands increased over time. Performers’ body size and shape came to be an indicator of their potential to endure a season and conform visually. Today, glancing at most corps’ social media pages makes it clear that leanness and thinness are valued in the activity. When unquestioned or unacknowledged, these values bring along implicit biases against those who do not appear lean or fit.

How do we improve?

Recognizing the existence of fatphobia and body shaming is the first step in addressing the resulting issues of discrimination and exclusion. These topics should be included in larger discussion about diversity, equity, inclusion, and justice because being better informed about these issues makes them easier to identify and address.  

Just as a brass tech isn’t welcome to provide uninvited and irrelevant feedback about a snare player’s technique, non-medical professionals have little reason to offer input on an auditionee’s health or body size. Understanding this simple boundary can prevent much of the existing issues. 

Another step toward making the activity more inclusive and accepting of all body types is prioritizing education. For instructors, this means focusing on the quality of feedback and criticism. It is unproductive to give a member feedback or criticism that focuses exclusively on things they can’t change. Educationally-focused feedback is specific and actionable. 

Finally, clarity of expectations and transparency in evaluations are two key goals that help eliminate issues of discrimination including and beyond fatphobia and body shaming. These go hand-in-hand with an educationally-focused environment. Although unspoken biases still can impact how someone is evaluated, transparent and clearly communicated expectations make it easier to evaluate everyone on a more equal basis.

the bigger issue

Complete acceptance and inclusion would mean that anyone–any body–would be able to earn membership in a drum corps. It would mean prioritizing something other than a corps looking like its members have been CTRL + Ved onto the field, that expectations and demands would be adjusted to performers’ individual abilities. 

“That’s not drum corps!” you might say. 

Then what is? 

As members of the drum corps community, we collectively determine what is rewarded or accepted in the activity. For example, the tick system of judging (where judges deduct points for each mistake they observe) was once reveled as an effective way to determine corps rankings. Over time, it became increasingly clear that the tick system rewards cleanliness regardless of difficulty. This led to changes that allow judges to assess both repertoire and its execution. Likewise, an increased emphasis on education means the mindset that “the beatings will continue until morale improves” is now largely a relic of the past. Most instructors today view information and feedback are more effective instructional tools than punishments and verbal assaults. This has created room for individuals of all shapes and sizes to successfully contribute to a corps’ success, yet unquestioned biases can still make it difficult for this success to be recognized. 

Drum corps will continue to evolve and change. As it does, it remains incredibly important that we reflect on how our values, and our biases, impact what is expected from and accepted within the activity. Whose bodies can be capable of acheiving these expectations and why?