
For Daniel C., it seems like just yesterday that he and his wife brought home a chubby bundle draped in an embroidered pink blanket from a Detroit-area hospital -- his first daughter. Their joy couldn't be measured.
"Who wants a skinny baby?" asks Daniel, a black executive who requested that his last name not be used in this article. "You always think baby fat is something they will grow out of. But time goes by. We let her eat too much of the wrong things. She never liked sports and spent a lot of time in front of the computer."
Now Daniel's daughter is on her way to college. She gets great grades, but he knows what hurdles face his daughter, who is 5'3", weighs close to 300 pounds and has developed diabetes.
"I'm sick over it because I know how hard she will have it in life: her health, getting jobs, going out with boys, all of it. It really bothers me."
Daniel isn't alone.
Childhood obesity is one of the most urgent and serious health threats confronting our nation. And nowhere is the problem more acute than in the African-American community. National statistics show approximately one in five African-American children are obese. That's far higher than the obesity rate for white children. Additionally, African-American girls have the highest obesity rate of any ethnic and gender group tracked by the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services.
That's why the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation (RWJF), America's largest philanthropy devoted to improving the nation's health, is focusing its efforts to reverse the childhood obesity epidemic on reaching kids at greatest risk. RWJF will commit at least $500 million over the next five years to fight childhood obesity and will focus much of its investment in traditionally underserved communities.