I Shared Poems, A Stranger Shared Something I’ll Never Forget
One moment, one stranger, one unforgettable lesson.
Welcome to Sunday Supper!
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Prayer - Dear God, Help me build my empathy muscle. Amen.
Affirmation - I am loved.
Gratitude - I am grateful for storytellers.
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I Shared Poems, A Stranger Shared Something I’ll Never Forget
Last month, I stepped out of my comfort zone and onto the stage to share my poetry publicly. I nervously began my recitation and brought the audience into the kitchen to smell the “African roots” of okra; we tracked the dusty paths of the Great Migration; we leaned into the musical genius of Stevie Wonder.
The crowd laughed and responded to the prompts I built into my recitations. My focus was on staying calm and sharing the poems—what was happening inside the people participating never crossed my mind.
When the event was over, several people came to the stage to thank me for sharing the poems. Some told stories about food and their favorite Stevie Wonder song. Then, the conversation shifted unexpectedly when a tall, grey-haired man approached me as I stood on stage.
“Thank you for sharing your poetry,” he said as he extended his hand for me to shake.
“You know, I’ve never understood why people treat people badly because of the color of skin they were born with.”
I looked at him and leaned in. My body language probably said, “Say more.”
I had just been talking about okra and music. How did we get here?
“You see,” he continued. “I was born with this deformity.”
He pointed to his pale white skin, where bone noticeably protruded from his skeleton.
“I couldn’t help how I was born,” he said softly. “And racism never made sense to me, ever since I was a child. I’ve always been different, and people treated me like it.”
While I was still processing his words, I thanked him for feeling comfortable enough to share his thoughts. I told him that one way we break down barriers is by sharing our stories and empathizing with one another. Inside, I felt a mix of surprise, gratitude, and responsibility. This moment reminded me of the unseen impact our words can have.
We went our separate ways, but his story stayed with me.
When we hit “publish,” step onto a stage to share poetry, or lift our voices and sing, we might think we know who we are talking to. But that man taught me that art is a broadcast: it reaches frequencies we can’t always hear, see, smell, taste, or touch. Yet, its impact is tangible.
For the creators: Create even when you don’t know why you’re creating or who will encounter your creation.
For those thinking about creating something: Do it.
For all of us: When art invokes something within you, pay attention.
Pot Likker and Cornbread Crumbs
There’s flavor in the small things.
Art is a bridge built by humanity.
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Have you ever had a moment where art (yours or someone else's) reflected a truth you weren't expecting to see?
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From Our Community Kitchen: Book, Music, Art, Substack Recommendation
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Recipe Exchange
Okraaaaa
I don’t know when I fell in love with okra, but I am so glad I did. I love it fried, boiled, pickled, stewed, and sauteed. I don’t know if God could have made any vegetable better than okra.
In honor of my favorite vegetable, I am sharing a recipe for stewed okra. If you try it, let me know.
Stewed Okra
Ingredients
1 lb fresh okra, sliced into ½-inch rounds
1 small onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 cups diced tomatoes (fresh or canned)
2 tbsp olive oil or 2 slices bacon, chopped
½ cup chicken broth (or water)
½ tsp salt (adjust to taste)
¼ tsp black pepper
¼ tsp paprika
Pinch of cayenne (optional, if you like heat)
Instructions
Start your flavor base. Heat oil (or cook bacon first and use the drippings) in a skillet over medium heat.
Add onion and cook until soft, about 3–4 minutes. Add garlic and cook for 30 seconds.Add okra. Toss in sliced okra and sauté for about 5 minutes. This helps reduce sliminess.
Build the stew. Stir in tomatoes, broth, salt, pepper, paprika, and cayenne.
Simmer gently. Lower the heat, cover partially, and cook 20–25 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the okra is tender and the stew thickens.
Taste & adjust. Add more salt or spice if needed.
Dessert
A Sweet Send-Off
Dedicated to my Favorite Vegetable
What’s thin, yet thickens
has white flowers and green pods
It’s lovely when it’s boiled
taste great fried hard
You might find it with peas
definitely in stew
My Gullah people love it
My Creole people love it too
Its roots grew in Africa
I grow it on my farm
What food tells a people’s history
and has this much charm?
You teach me weekly and the thoughts linger always. An example is every time I pass Montongo Road and the porch location where the young man sat and waved. And in so many other places and spaces. Keep sharing!