Bananas: An Early Shared Snack

I'm a fat, middle-aged, white, straight, Christian Canadian-born woman, visibly a “Karen” if you like, so in every way part of the majority. Worse yet, I live with my mum. (But why don't you live with your mum? Does she not like you? But enough yo mama jokes… (I'm also an advocate for intergenerational living in addition to cross-cultural communication through food, but that's another story.)) I thought you might be curious, as I was asked the other day on Instagram who I am. I don't mind if I am the subject of your ridicule, as long as you do it playfully, and with a big laugh from the belly because as Smart Pig Kitchen says, “if you can't laugh at yourself, how will anyone laugh?

And on the topic of who I am, why have I chosen a retro feel for my blog? Out of nostalgia for a time that never existed.

“Nostalgia for a time that never existed, a kind of utopia” —Smart Pig Kitchen

Well, there were some good things about the 1950’s (but not for everyone). There were bad things too, like cultural homogeneity and classicism and gossip. But, as always, let's focus on the good because if we keep looking for the good things, and there are good things about almost every period in history and every culture, we will discover how to move forward. Some good things about 1950’s North America stand out to me: dinner parties, economic stability, optimism in medicine caused by the use of antibiotics and the discovery of the polio vaccine.

Anyways, I've been wondering why it is that peaceful diversity is an easier rule to come by in science settings than in other disciplines such as the one I was once in, English Literary Studies, and I think it's because we decided to take ourselves so seriously, after all, laughter is the best medicine.

For all the committees on diversity and inclusion we still seem to be having trouble with it.

I have a dear friend in her 80s and she was born in England; she's British. Now despite colonialism, there are some good things about British culture. Scones come to mind. High tea, for example, makes anyone feel royal.

Anyways, she sometimes tells a story of the first time she ate a banana, which happens also to be the first time she met someone who was black. It goes something like this: she was a little girl at the shipyard with her father and a black hand came out of a porthole holding a banana and a voice that said “here eat this, you peel it.” So she did and it was good.

As far as I know this is the first time this story has been written down. It sounds like a caricature, and in literary analysis I can see someone concluding that it is racist for her to tell this story but on this point I want to say two things: 1. This IS her genuine true narrative experience so you need to take into account the time and the place she comes from (a small British farming community) and 2. If our retired elderly (of any cultural heritage) appear “racist” to us, who cares because you need to take into account the time and the place where they come from and that maybe we've come a ways. She’s one of the kindest people I know and she would never physically harm or disenfranchise any person.

By definition, no two individuals are the same, so we all make a million observations when we see someone. It doesn't matter. What matters is what you do with those observations. Do you endorse individuals who need your help? Or do you disenfranchise? Will you share your food with them?

A favourite quotation of mine is: “Grub first, then ethics.” ( In Canada, many of us have the luxury of peaceful advocacy.)

What also matters is whether you make generalisations, (which is very difficult not to do) or whether you listen to specific narratives. It doesn't matter to me what you call yourself–whether you are black, white, Asian, a feminist, Indigenous LGBTQ, differently abled, Christian, Muslim, Jew, Buddhist, Jain–you're my neighbors–what matters is how you treat people. (But I caution be careful with labels, they can be hard to shirk.) I think maybe human beings are a bunch of actions, rather than a label or culture and that culture is a framework for understanding history and maybe food but not people. What do you think?

I'm saying to be proud and happy in yourself and tell your story, I'm listening. Happy people treat people well. But while I listen, will you not feed me something delicious?

Be happy for no reason and eat stuff that tastes good! Have a good tomorrow ❤️