Soul food is famously revered for pork and barbecue, for savory side dishes cooked in lard. I’m black, and as a kid I loved my mom’s cornbread dressing and my aunt’s mac and cheese. Then I became a vegan. At first, I thought about what kind of Black person I would be if I didn’t eat soul food the way I had always thought of it.
Cultural identities are baked into culinary identities. When it comes to people of color, what you eat or don’t eat says a lot about where you belong. The phrase “soul food” dates back to the 1960s. As “soul” became a word for Black culture, it also became a way for people to express their strength in a racist society and fight against being dehumanized. The roots of soul food are antiracist.
I know that not eating meat can be antiracist, too, and that veganism aligns with these self-empowering principles. By not eating animal products, you can fight back against factory farming’s dehumanizing effects on Black people and the Earth. But there have been times when my changing diet has made it harder for me to feel like I belong in my community or even with my family. Advertisement.
Alexander Smalls talks about his new cookbook, “Meals, Music, and Muses: Recipes from My African American Kitchen,” during the George Floyd protests.
Soul food to us means fried chicken, collard greens, dirty rice, jambalaya, okra, cornbread dressing, and pretty much anything you can eat from a pig. Over the years, these foods have given me comfort. People who are racist can throw me off, but the red beans and rice I grew up with help me remember that I am loved and belong. For me, red beans and rice feels like home.
When I left Battle Creek, Mich. , to go to graduate school on the edge of Los Angeles. My family was afraid that I would “change” when I moved. They may have been right. When I arrived in Claremont I was your typical, grilled meat-loving omnivore. After three and a half years, I began eating only plants. Soon after, I became a vegan. I grew dreadlocks and a beard.
I dreaded my first trip back home after I became a vegetarian. I knew my family would question my diet and challenge my cultural authenticity. Indeed, my dad put on a show by cooking meat to go with the beans and rice I had made for Christmas dinner, even though he could have chosen from many other meat dishes. My beans and rice were not authentic to our family, and he made sure everyone knew it.
My experience is not unique. A lot of other people of color feel alone because they are vegan, even if they are vegan because they care about their community. In the United States, food has long been or been linked to a system of oppression, and the Black body is a constant reminder of this. Black people were enslaved because of our agricultural and culinary acumen. Economic exploitation of traditional farm and factory farm laborers, who are predominantly Black and Latinx, persists today.
If you’re already a plant-forward person or are thinking about making a change, here are 30 restaurants you should check out.
Soul food is how Black people define ourselves and celebrate the stories of how we survived. And yet, soul food’s overwhelming cultural power presents a strong argument for reexamining it. Should we keep telling ourselves old stories about soul food? Is the idea of soul food really about the food, or does it come from the knowledge of the people who made it? How can soul food tell stories about who we want to become, not just who we were?
I think we should start by decolonizing soul food, which means figuring out how white stereotypes have affected how we think about the food our Black ancestors cooked. Aunt Jemima and Uncle Ben, characters made to make segregation seem normal, are a good example of how white ideas about Black cooking can affect cooking. De-linking these s from soul food helps us uncover knowledge that has always existed on the margins.
In this case, there is no set definition of what it means to eat in a “Black” way. According to Frederick Douglass Opie, a food historian, what Americans think of as a traditional West African diet is made up of “darker whole grains, dark green leafy vegetables, and colorful fruits and nuts,” along with meat. This is because Black people had to eat what they had during and after slavery. They had to learn how to make inexpensive cuts of meat taste wonderful. Advertisement.
When we look at the history of Black food as a way to understand how to deal with racism in our own food system, we can find deeper meanings. One way to describe soul food is not as “chicken or hog,” but as “a spirit of preservation and community.” And this realization should prompt ethical reflection and response.
It seems to me that veganism, especially Black veganism as other activists and I have called it, is a strong example of Black veganism makes us think about how the language of animals has been used to justify the abuse of any being that is different from white cultural norms in terms of species, race, or behavior. Black veganism challenges the racist ideas that are built into these norms and wants us to learn more about Black food and food culture beyond the horrors of slavery, tenant farming, and picking cotton. The lives of chefs like Hercules Posey and James Hemings and food justice activists like Fannie Lou Hamer remind me of parts of myself.
Studying this history, in conjunction with changing my diet, helped me lean into my Black and vegan identities. And I think it helped my family along, too. We talked about the foods my grandfather ate as a child in Mississippi over dinner. These included rice, beans, vegetables, stews, eggs, and sometimes meat. We learned that one reason he worked on farms, even though he was abused, was to make sure he had food.
Black people can understand their food in the context of their own histories by telling and retelling these stories. They can also make sure that the changes they make to their diets support and preserve the communities they come from.
Christopher Carter teaches theology at the University of San Diego. He is the author of “The Spirit of Soul Food: Race, Faith, and Food Justice. ” This article was produced in partnership with Zócalo Public Square.
Pork has long played a complicated role in Black American culture and identity. While many Black people grew up eating and enjoying pork, in recent decades it has become controversial. A growing number of Black Americans are cutting back on or eliminating pork for religious, ideological, or health reasons. However, this was not always the case. Understanding the history provides insight into the shift.
Slavery Origins
The origins of pork’s prevalence in African American diets can be traced back to slavery Prior to the Atlantic slave trade, pigs did exist in West Africa but were not a major part of the diet, especially for the region’s many Muslim converts who saw pork as forbidden. However, enslaved people were forced to eat salted pork during the brutal journey from Africa to America Slaveholders relied on pork to feed the enslaved because pigs were inexpensive and easy to raise. At plantations’ annual hog killings, pigs were slaughtered and preserved. Pork made up the bulk of the meager rations provided.
Despite being forced to eat it initially, many enslaved people embraced pork once gaining freedom, as it was often the only meat consistently available. Chitterlings (chitlins) – stewed or fried pig intestines – became a soul food staple, though controversial today. Barbecuing a whole hog was a joyous tradition at community gatherings. Pork held an honored place in African American home cooking and restaurants. For many, pork represents cherished food memories.
Religious Objections
The 20th century brought increased wariness of pork in the Black community for several reasons. Many Black Americans converted to Islam, which bars pork consumption While Christians remain the majority, Islam has been the fastest growing religion among African Americans for decades, especially among incarcerated individuals The Nation of Islam has been very influential in casting pork as dangerous. Calling it “swine” indicates NOI sympathies.
Additionally both Islam and Judaism, which some Black Americans practice prohibit pork for spiritual reasons. So for many Black Jews and Muslims today, sacred texts guide their avoidance of pork. Of all Americans, Black people are most likely to follow biblically-based diets that restrict pork. This religious objection represents a marked shift from slavery days.
Health Concerns
Another basis for reducing pork consumption is health. Many advocates link the high rates of chronic illnesses like heart disease, diabetes, and cancer among Black Americans to frequent pork eating. They contend that pork contributes to these “lifestyle diseases.”
Groups like the NOI also tie pork to ill health outcomes along with religious injunctions. Nation of Islam followers strictly avoid pork and all products containing it. Health-focused Black people may limit all meat or just eat poultry and fish. They shun pork specifically for wellness reasons versus faith mandates.
Ideological Stance
Most provocative are the ideological critiques of pork in Black identity. Black empowerment advocates argue that eating a food forced upon ancestors in bondage perpetuates white supremacy. They contend rejecting slaveholders’ foods and returning to an ancestral West African diet reclaims Blackness. Food represents culture and politics beyond physical nourishment.
Some proponents of Afrocentric diets indict pork for contributing to Black community health problems. They contend only complete pork abstinence can address these issues. Activists have asserted pork abstinence as a political act since the 1960s Black Power movement. The doctrines of groups like the NOI fuse health, faith, and ideology into vehement anti-pork stances.
Ongoing Complexity
So the relationship between pork and Black identity remains multifaceted. While some condemn it fully on health, faith, or political grounds, many still enjoy pork. Necessity and tradition made it a staple, despite its origins. Soul food menus and family memories reflect generations of Black pork appreciation.
Yet concerns about wellness and authentic heritage resonate for a growing number of African Americans. These individuals see abstaining from pork completely as reclaiming power and agency. But others argue that total pork avoidance goes too far in policing Blackness. They feel occasional pork consumption does not undermine Black identity or health.
In the end, the long, complex history shows why pork remains controversial. It represents the paradoxes of bondage cuisine becoming beloved cultural food. There are thoughtful cases on all sides. For now it seems the debate will continue, as pork’s place in Black lives defies easy conclusions.
The reasons why it is frowned upon to eat pork in the black community
FAQ
What race can’t eat pork?
Why do they say not to eat pork?
Why do Jamaicans not eat pork?
What kind of people don’t eat pork?