Buttermilk Fried Green Tomatoes W/ Spicy Sweet Corn Slaw + My Thoughts On Ferguson Mo.
“We'll walk hand in hand, we'll walk hand in hand,
We'll walk hand in hand someday;
Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe,
We'll walk hand in hand someday.”
--- We Shall Overcome, Key Anthem of the Civil Rights Movement
This is inherently a food blog, which I know.
However, social media is a platform- one that in this day and age is stronger than any traditional letter writing or phone calls could ever be. Food is never a respite in the matters of the day. If anything we head to the table to vent, to collectively tell the tales of the days, weeks, and months. This morning I’m feeling some type of way about the situation in Ferguson Missouri. Saddened, disheartened, or as my mother said yesterday.. Defeated.
As I read article after article, watch media coverage and hear first-hand accounts from my friend as he currently nurses his eyes from the tear gas residue. Tear gas that was thrown at his camera as he reports for CNN.
“They’re throwing that shit at everyone, from the news trucks to the kids in the streets.”
This is killing me. It has killed me since it was first reported.
The anger, I understand.. That I truly do. Every time I stare at my 3 year old son, the anger bubbles over to rage. For he is Michael Brown.
But as Gil Scott Heron told us, “The revolution will not be televised”
We are not seeing the peaceful protest or those begging for justice, both black and white rallying in the streets in solidarity. We’re shown coverage of looters and rioters violating that of their own community. There is no justice in that.
There is no peace in robbing your local grocer of the food that is there to sustain you, my brothers and sisters. This is just perpetuating the myth that the use of “excessive force” is supposedly justified by. You can’t say “hands up don’t shoot” and in the same breath throw a brick through the window of a store front.
How is this helping the cause of our dialog?
Why would they not shoot?
We have been here before, we will continue to exist on this precise of inequality if we do not exercise the rights that our ancestors protested, fought and died for.
Go and vote-exercise that right, you don’t like the laws of the day, well fight them, legally, peacefully. Turn the anger into a thirst for knowledge and learn that law better than those who use it against you. No, we should not go quietly into the night but we should also not create turmoil on our own front lawn. Accountability, we must take it. Look amongst ourselves and the disrespect in our own community. We are so eager to create warfare behind the injustice of this shooting but say nothing of the anarchy happening on the streets of Chicago. That is our problem also. So again, tell me why they should not shoot?
More so tell me this; would our ancestors be proud of what we’ve become?
We do not need Al Sharpton, Jessie Jackson or the National Guard. We need each other.
..We will not survive without understanding.
What’s it going to take?! To see that we are a community living together here, a community that consists of all ethnicities and that we as a community must remain vigilant. Together we must work to fight against injustice and inequality for everyone. In tandem, we must move onward upward in peace. No tear gas or rubber bullets necessary.
We MUST walk hand in hand. We must walk hand in hand someday.
Until then, I’m gonna keep cooking and praying, wishing.. For I am hopeful
That We Shall Over Come…. Someday.
To Michael Brown. Son of Lesley McSpadden. Grandson of Desuirea Harris. You’re in my thoughts and its weighing heavy on my heart. I prepared this meal with thoughts of you as I pray for justice.
Rest in Eternal Peace… and know that you will not be forgotten.
Fried Green Tomatoes and I go way back like red light green light. It was rare that we had them, but when we did they would always be fried after soaking in buttermilk. Then topped with this red tomato, cucumber vinegar based "salad". I thought I'd adapted that somewhat with this here simple slaw that has a kick and the sweet crunch of corn.