Introduction

Delicious Religious Conditioning

Like many (read: not all) Black kids, religion and church had a huge influence on my ideas around morality, gender roles, sexuality, family, friends, and worthiness. For me this influence showed up in a multitude of ways throughout my childhood:

1. My desire to be baptized and become a prophetess

2. A deep self-hate for my emerging sexual identity and gender expression

3. Aspirations to be a dutiful keeper of the home like my mother

4. Harsh judgements of kids who playfully screamed and ran about the streets

5. Believing that I was such a unique treasure of God that it was my responsibility to wear thee most modest of clothing in order to attract the right man.

But religion wasn’t all restriction and no release. Religion meant church and church meant Sunday School, which to me was the closest thing I’d ever get to being around the legendary public-schoolers. In my eyes public-schoolers were thee ultimate unrestricted humans. They were the kids whose parents let them get Just For Me, say curse words like “oh my gosh”, and, according to a conversation I overheard between my mom and one of the Sisters, carry knives to public school. If I’d known the word bad-ass as a kid, that’s how I would have described public school kids. I simultaneously admired, feared, and looked down upon them.

Religion and church also influenced my idea of comfort food, and that showed up in Sunday dinner. Post-church Sunday dinners varied with the seasons (and my dad’s income), but they usually consisted of chicken, some sort of bread, a green, and if we were really doing good, grape juice from the corner store. Sunday dinners were my favorite because it felt like a well deserved reward for sitting through 5-8 hours of religious conditioning which included the following:

• Sweetly begging the Sisters, Brothers, Mothers, or Deacons for candy or money pre-sermon

• Sunday school with my favorite Mother

• Choir practice (aka me lip syncing over my older sister, p.s. thanks for holding it down gurl)

• The Sermon + some band music and choir singing and other theatrics

• Tiths, Prayer requests, and other Announcements

• Post sermon socializing, and maybe one of the teenagers would help me get a snack at the corner store. 

All of this could be endured when I knew that my mom had started dinner before we’d left the house that morning. When we got home I’d get to help her finish it in between playing with siblings and watching basketball with my dad. I’m sure it wasn’t like this every Sunday but in my blurry, idyllic childhood memories it seemed to happen pretty regularly.

I’m replicating this food memory with the following traditional and non-traditional recipes, alongside some stories, some lighter and less religious-centered than others, but all apart of my story. If you click on some links you might even find a bit of history on some of the plants and animals involved.

I don’t 100% eat like this anymore and I’m pretty sure at this point I don’t qualify as a Christian, but the memories bring me an inarticulable feeling of both pain and joy that is in some ways comforting.

Enjoy :) . . .