Just A Woman

A POT OF GRITS AND A POT OF RICE

Daddy was popular in Savannah because of his radio shows on WSOK and WEAS, but we were not too snobby for the basics. We had a nice house in a nice neighborhood, cooked our own food, and did our own chores. We were not the ones to buy sprawling mansions and have live-in maids once a dollar found its way into the house. My parents came from modest means, so my mother went back to work part-time when my little sister started school. She joked that she didn’t want to be another bored, upper-middle class housewife who became a ‘card-playing alcoholic’.

On the days Mamma worked, I would come home to the supper Daddy had already prepared before he left for work. A meal consisted of meat (or two), starch, and a vegetable. Dessert was always around because there was ice cream in the freezer, and some sort of cake or pie under the cake plate in the dining room. A pot of rice was on the stove just about daily, prepared in many ways: white, yellow, or Savannah Red (which we picked up from Grandma Charlesetta’s house).

I was kind of picky about meat, though, so I ate many meals with rice-and-gravy, vegetables, and cornbread. My mother’s mother, Piccola, was from the catch ‘em-and-kill ‘em side of the family, so I sometimes wasn’t sure about some of the meat that was served. My mother was a little bit more selective, but had an addiction to pickled pig feet and hogshead cheese (we must remember that this was before the fitness revolution, and the introduction of tasty low-calorie meals and turkey sausage).

For breakfast, a pot of grits was served with whatever was prepared, including fish and wild game such as quail and game hen. I remember many times my relatives from the country would come into town with fresh fish and a pot of grits would be already cooking on the stove. Dad would sometimes make a breakfast feast on Saturday mornings, and would serve ‘cathead’ biscuits with jelly and honey to go with everything.

Shortly thereafter, the “-it is” would set in. Back to bed.

BALLET SCHOOL

Mamma was the epitome of femininity. She dressed us in the frilliest dresses and suits, the fanciest ribbons, and the shiniest patent leather shoes she could find in Savannah. She also taught us social graces and conduct befitting of a distinguished person of color, and I thank her for that.

Since I was a chubby child with no sense of coordination, my mother decided to enroll me in Maxine Patterson’s School of Dance. I don’t remember how many times a week I went there, but I did learn a little tap dance and ballet with my cousin, Deni. I eventually learned the necessary routines with precision.

Little did Mamma know was that her daughter was neurotic and deathly afraid of people (the official diagnosis came many years later). When it was time for our first ballet recital, all I could do was stand on the stage and cry continuously while the other girls in my class danced happily around me.

The classes ended shortly thereafter.

THE BACK OF THE BUS

I started riding the school bus when I was in junior high school. I either walked home or was picked up by one of my parents if I needed to be home early or had an appointment. I felt more independent because I was allowed to ride the bus, and had to wake up extra early at 5:30 in order to catch it at 6:30 a.m. The bus ride to school was about 45 minutes long, and the homeroom started around 7:30 a.m. School finished at 1:45 p.m. I slept a lot in the afternoons back then.

There was a hierarchy in seating on the school bus. New students and younger kids sat in the front, and the cool and popular, older kids sat in the back. I sat in the middle, which was for everyone else. I continued to sit in the middle of the bus for the rest of middle and high school. At first, it was because of the pecking order, but later it was because of a principle I established.

You see, I felt that after all those years since the civil rights movement, Blacks (African Americans) were allowed to sit ANYWHERE on the bus instead of the back of the bus where they were previously assigned. So, why in the hell would I sit there when I didn’t have to?

I later found out WHY a lot of the kids sat in the back of the bus. They were doing a lot of things they had no business (sex, drugs, etc.), and there were no security cameras installed on school buses back then. I was not doing MY dirt on the back of a crowded school bus; there were too many other cool places around where there weren’t as many people.