The most prized invitation in our society is an invitation to the cookout. It is the ultimate clout currency.
I want to unpack what this invitation means and why it is so important.
I also want to explore something that troubles me. Why is there no equivalent phrase or term for other races/ethnic groups? Why is it only black folks who invite others to their functions, but no other groups reciprocate?
Cooking for someone is a radical act of love. Not all of us are blessed with the ability to cook. Some of us are our most vulnerable when we share the food we have prepared with others. Insecurities that have remained dormant start to stir within us.
We are terrified that our guests will reject the food that we have served them. Rejection of our food and ultimately us hangs in the balance of that first bite. We study their face trying to divine if they are pleased with our meal. We affix varying amounts of importance for each chew. We count how many times they chew their food before they swallow. We measure how fast they reach for their beverage after they have taken a bite. We track the intervals between drinks and swallows. We examine our guests' faces for any signs of revulsion that our meal might stimulate.
Cooking for another person is an act of love, and eating that food is an act of reciprocation of that love.
Many chefs and professional cooks describe their profession with the word passion. They are passionate about the act of creation. They crave the primal nature of using fire, steam, and cold to transform ingredients into something more than what is believed is possible. These professionals may not like the long hours, the screaming bosses, or the rude guests…but the art of cooking is where they find joy.
The stories of black people going to bed hungry from want of food are drilled into the Culture. Almost every slave narrative is filled with cruel and greedy slavers who refused to provide for their slaves adequately. Slaves emancipated without a single penny to their name were expected to provide for themselves immediately—tales of nights filled with growling stomachs are commonplace in the Culture.
One of the lasting and durable initiatives from the Black Panthers was providing free breakfast to the community’s children. Free and reduced school breakfast and lunch programs can be found at many impoverished schools across America. These schools can be located in the urban corridors as well as the remote rural towns. You will find hungry children all across this bountiful nation if you bother to look.
Many adults fondly remember those free meals at school. Quizzically stating that they might have dropped out of school if it was not for the free lunches. Then they declared that the free lunch they received at school was all that sustained them for the whole day.
Food insecurity is real.
Even before inflation, created in the cauldrons of corporate greed, food prices were too high. Republicans constantly target safety-net programs like WIC, free and reduced school lunches, and programs that fund EBT cards.
When someone invites you over to their home and shares their food with you, especially when that person is from the lowest caste in our society: the American descendants of slaves, it is even more significant.
Regardless of where anyone is on the social-economic status spectrum, the drastic increases in food prices are attacking already strained food budgets. Wages have failed to rise to meet the moment of the worst period of inflation in a generation. As employers horde more and more of the products of our labor for their own coffers, we are left to struggle to find means to feed our families.
Nonetheless, the cookout is a momentary respite from the doom and gloom of the world. It is a bastion of fellowship and comradery. It is an opportunity for family and friends to come together to laugh, smile, celebrate successes, and mitigate the bite of defeat. The grillmaster presides over the event while a trusted few are drafted to provide the delicious sides that accompany the variety of grilled meats. In rare circumstances, a second grill is employed for vegans or those who do not eat pork.
The truth is that the leftovers that are expected to be generated from this extravagant meal are seldom as plentiful as one estimates. Hospitality demands that people carry plates home. Some abuse the generosity of the host and develop a reputation amongst those in this community, and they see their invites start to dwindle. Nonetheless, the truth is that a cookout sometimes damns the family to beans, rice, potatoes, eggs, or other staples to generate the calories necessary to get through a day of work or school until the next paycheck.
This is the context of the cookout.
That said, getting an invite to the cookout is slang that every American knows. This phrase has penetrated our collective lexicon. It means that black people have appreciated something that you have done and that we want you to join us in our inner sanctum. We want to share our home, food, time, joys, and lows with you. We want you to feel loved and special. We want you to experience our hospitality.
It is our way of acknowledging that you have seen our humanity and that we appreciate you for that act.
However, I don’t know what the equivalent of an invite to the cookout is for white people. Would it be a pass to the country club? How about my Latinos? What is their version? Same with my Asian brothers and sisters.
We do not know the equivalent of an invite to the cookout for any other group, and I find that disconcerting.
We never get invited to the Seder by our Jewish friends, despite us condemning the barrage of antisemitism that continues to perforate our society. We were the most verbose detractors of Ye. We condemned him for the hate he spread.
We never get invited to the fiesta by our Latino friends, even when we are the first to push back on the inhumane dehumanization of elected Republicans who call them illegal. Recently, black folk came to drag Governor Abbot, who, in an ode to his white base, reflectively called the five murdered souls illegals.
Even though the animosity between blacks and Asians remains constant, and many of the perpetrators of unprovoked acts of violence against Asians have been black, we are quick to denounce our own. We peppered our social media posts with hashtags of #StopAsaianHate and #StopAAPIHate. Yet, there has never been an invitation to the Chinese Lunar Party or any other ethnic holiday or gathering.
Even though we have been on the front lines of combating the creep of fascism in our American democracy summoned by the voting patterns of most white folks, our willingness to put our bodies in the line of danger for this important work is not respected. All we receive from our bravery and canceling out many of your husbands, fathers, uncles, brothers, grandfathers, grandmothers, aunts, and mothers' votes are empty platitudes. The illustrious invite to the country club or hoe down remains forever out of our grasp.
We don’t do these things to garner accolades or invites. We don’t even do these things for you. We do these things for our own survival. We do these things because we believe in the promise of America. We have an unshakable faith in this country and see it for what it is, has been, and can become.
Yet, none of that answers my original question: Why do black folk keep inviting everyone to the cookout, but we never get invited to the country club? Everyone wants to be cool with black people but never reciprocates the hospitality. Doing the least allows someone to be welcomed into our inner sanctum, but our Herculean efforts remain unacknowledged.
Why?
I reject the notion that we need to invite others into our homes, backyards, church basements, parks, or any other place where we congregate without them reciprocating.
I am proposing a moratorium to all invites to the cookout until they develop the equivalent words/phrases for their functions and send us our invites.
This post originally appeared on Medium and is edited and republished with author's permission. Read more of Garrick McFadden's work on Medium.