Word Count: 746
The Cooking Gene Seminar Ticket
“For all its familiar tropes, there are multiple Souths, not just one, just as there are multiple ways of being Southern.” (p. 7)
“I wanted to weep for the Irish. I have seen the bullet holes in the columns and walls all over Dublin. And yet it was the Irish buying into whiteness that gave birth to the minstrel show, draft riots during the Civil War where black people were lynched, and violence over schools busing in South Boston. There are no heroes here, just varying levels of power and responsibility.” (p. 384)
Reading The Cooking Gene by Michael W. Twitty was something of a surreal experience for me. My family has been in Virginia since they immigrated there in the 18th century and I grew up not thirty minutes away from where Twitty himself grew up. I recognized all the names of the counties, towns, and plantations that he mentioned. In fact, there was never a time while growing up in Virginia that I did not live more than a few miles away from a historic plantation – when I was homeschooled, visiting them was often part of my schooling and I have in fact heard the myth about slaves being made to whistle while carrying food many times before.
While reading Twitty’s accounts of his south and thinking about the way it was similar to mine while simultaneously very different is summarized by his opening statement, “for all its familiar tropes, there are multiple Souths, not just one, just as there are multiple ways of being Southern.” (pg. 7) This is a concept that I had thought about quite a lot in the past, but had never considered just how much food played a role in the differing realities that many southerners have.
Twitty’s experience with a mother who was unenthused about the consumption of certain aspects of southern cuisine was quite like my own experience growing up – but also not quite. As a child I was not allowed to eat grits. When I asked, my mother made a face and said something about grits being food for poor people (I’ve since read between the lines of that statement). I do believe that the essence of my childhood experience with southern cuisine and Twitty’s is rooted in the same subconscious memory of slavery. We know why things exist in our South’s cuisine but families from both sides of history are not quite willing to face the reasons that are staring us the face.
I do believe, however, if there is one concept that could begin that slow, painful healing process from multiple generations of hiding from guilt, shame, memory, etc. it would be the ideas Twitty has to share when he begins to explore his European roots. In particular when he states “I wanted to weep for the Irish. I have seen the bullet holes in the columns and walls all over Dublin. And yet it was the Irish buying into whiteness that gave birth to the minstrel show, draft riots during the Civil War where black people were lynched, and violence over school busing in South Boston. There are no heroes here, just varying levels of power and responsibility.” I don’t think that there is a statement that could better sum up the South and its long history of peoples asserting whiteness in order to raise their social standing.
As a white person who grew up in the south and was raised by people who identify as “Southerners” I know that most white southerners don’t know that their Irish ancestors were not considered white upon first coming to the south, nor do they know the history of the blackface minstrelsy, the fact that banjos have their roots in West Africa, or that their fondness for fancy cooked soul food but aversion to things like grits are rooted in the same racism that gained them their whiteness and power in the first place. Twitty’s journey of remembrance for all of his past through food and ancestry is a form of healing and one that I think could result in the merging of southern realities in the best possible way. When he cites the varying levels of power in responsibility that different peoples’ have, I believe remembering is one of the biggest responsibilities of those of us who are still benefiting off of the power we gained through the marginalization of others.