I love a good recommendation. If you can tell me what you love and why you love it, chances are it will open me up to trying a new dish I wouldn’t have tried on my own. Chronic indecision? Let someone else decide for you.
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Only sixty years ago, our town, like much of the south, was in the middle of its own pain. Jim Crow laws had allowed states and communities to practice legal segregation under the guise of “separate but equal.” While clearly separating “coloreds” from “whites”, the results of that separation were anything but equal. Many times, these laws would be enforced by racist vigilantes before they were ever enforced by local law enforcement. Law enforcement would take a protester to jail; a vigilante would degrade a protester through physical and emotional violence.
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Food, and my relationship with it, is an important facet of not only my personal identity, but also of my culture, and the culture I grew up in. I believe food is spiritual and that the act of creating, serving, and eating a meal is an act of holy worship — a practice of religion. I myself am agnostic, but sometimes when I make a meal for my fiancé after a long day's work, or when I eat something special made just for me, I can see the existence of God.
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JKSN. If you know, you know.
You also probably know if you live in West Tennessee because those four letters have been seen often on t-shirts over the past year. JKSN is Jackson minus the vowels and a silent “c.” There’s no room for passivity or wasted space with this brand. There’s no need for vowels, either. Vowels are melodious and can stretch words without necessity. Consonants are sharp and strong like the letters on the shirt and the city they represent. JKSN. Jackson. If you know, you know.
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Up until this year, thirty-five of my years as a student or a teacher have played out exactly like this: a beginning, a middle, and an end. There’s some comfort in that rhythm; the ebb and flow of certainty. August is always long, but the grass is still green and the days are still long. When the weather turns, I know Christmas isn’t far off. By February, though, fatigue has set in and we’re all (students and teachers) hanging by a thread. Then the days start to get longer, and you can hear the mowers humming outside the classroom — the familiar markers of the end of the year. We all start to relax a little.
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