"A festive Korean meal includes a variety of dishes, perhaps as many as 20. Nevertheless, the hostess will apologize for the inadequacies of her offerings, saying, 'There is nothing here, but eat much!'"
--Extending the Table
This quote accompanied the recipe I made this evening, Pul Goki, grilled sesame beef from Korea. The dish was easy and delicious in its simplicity. Yet it was this little nugget of cultural information that stuck with me as I prepared the marinade and the meat soaked in the sweet and salty of the soy sauce, sesame oil and sugar throughout the afternoon.
Lately our family, our beautiful Ethiopian-Thai-American family, has met with a variety of tough moments and decisions connected to our cultures. And inadequate doesn't quite capture what I feel inside as I maneuver the complexities of parenting children of color as I confront my own white privilege. There are 20 different factors to consider and confront in even the most simple choices.
Our neighborhood, in the heart of the city, reflects our family. When we leave our home, our neighbors, the patrons at the library, the kids at school, represent a wealth of diversity in which we simply blend and exist as we our. But a short jaunt up the highway and our sanctuary becomes a hostile land where inquisitive glances become incredulous and unwelcome stares. Anxiety and defensiveness take over as I clutch my children to me tightly or secure them in the safety of our cart. Even close to home, the occasional sucker punch sends us reeling. A phone call from a local business questioning my child's integrity based simply on the ethnic tones of his precious name.
It would be very easy to wallow and complain, but we chose this life. I had 30 years of comfort in my white privilege. My children didn't have a choice about the color of the skin in which they walk the world . So I read, we take classes, go to workshops, read some more, discuss it to death, seek out mentors, professionals, art, music, language, toys, books, games, recipes anything that gives us the resources to raise our children to be happy and proud and armed with the tools to maneuver the trials and joys of being who they are.
At times I've seen the nature of this blog to be somewhat shallow. What can I accomplish in a recipe? But this little project keeps me thinking and gets me talking with my kids. About Korea, and where it is in relation to Thailand, and the amazing women that cook 20 dishes for special guests and how exactly one pronounces Pul Goki. And it broadens their horizons beyond the interior of our home, reminding them that our family is part of a world community. It's one of 20...50...100 pieces that makes this complicated life a life in which there is much to eat.
1 comment:
In response to your question, "What can I accomplish in a recipe?" I must tell you about a young man in our church here in Glasgow who is going to cooking school. Against the odds. His home life hasn't been all that great, and the church and its boys' club have basically raised this lad since he was a wee child. Like all UK high school students who aren't destined for university, he's left school in his mid-teens. But unlike a lot of early-leavers with little prospect of making something of their lives, he wants to be a cook. And so he's going to cooking school. Good on him.
Yesterday on the bus I read an ad that said, "Choose life -- not a knife." Knife violence is a big problem in the UK, and the Glasgow area police have done a lot to try to encourage young people to take up sports or activities rather than fall into alcohol-fueled fighting, and over here the weapon of choice is a knife. Any ordinary kitchen knife will do. It's illegal in the UK to carry a blade longer than 2 inches. I sometimes think about this when I pull out the knife drawer in our kitchen -- I tell visitors this is where we store our murder weapons, like a gun cabinet in the Upper Midwest. At least one young man from a tough neighorhood over here is choosing to pick up a kitchen knife and use it for its intended purpose, preparing a recipe.
Post a Comment