There are many Black stereotypes. Some of the stereotypes were created by Black people themselves like "Black people don't go bungee jumping" or "Black people aren't atheist." But my ultimate favorite stereotype is "all Black people eat fried chicken." Well, I don't and last time I checked, I'm Black and if I ever forget that, the police have no problem with reminding me. While I enjoy living the vegan/vegetarian lifestyle, as Black man that comes from the Deep South…of Delaware that eats anything that has been killed, shot, or stabbed, it hasn't been easy.

This is how it all began. In March 2012, I started a healthy challenge that was under the leadership of Dr. Gwen Foster, (the former health czar for the city of Philadelphia. It was 40 day challenge but ever since I have lived vegan/vegetarian system. The transition for me was pretty easy. I gave up pork in 2006. Then I gave up red meat in 2008. I was never into seafood with the exception of tuna. So up until March 2012, the only animal protein I ate was chicken, turkey, and tuna. This was a new and exciting journey for me because I was interested in health and wellness. I felt more educated and empowered about food. But the feeling was short lived until I had to endure the most miserable/depressing moment of being a Black vegan: the Black cookout.

Picture it: Memorial Day 2012, I decided to be with my mother’s side of the family. My mother even lives down the street from the farm that makes the scrapple that I used to love as a kid. Now that stuff makes me sick just thinking about it. Well, I went to my aunt’s house where the Memorial Day festivities were being held. I asked my mother to make macaroni-n-cheese with vegan cheese and soy milk that I brought. She did it but it didn’t come out the way I wanted it to. Later, I would find out that I used the wrong vegan cheese, because the one I brought didn’t melt. I also brought all types of vegan alternatives: hot dogs, kielbasa, and chicken patties, with organic ketchup. For entertainment, I brought my favorite DVD’s from the library: Fork Over Knives; Food, Inc; King Corn; and Sick, Fat and, Nearly Dead. My mother told me that she watched King Corn while I was asleep and she didn’t like it. When I got to my aunt’s house, "their food" was already done. I put "my food" on a plate and gave it to my uncle who does all of the grilling. I put my chicken patties in the microwave and went on about my business. My family is the type of people, if it’s different and they don’t understand it, they just ridicule it. My cousins started to make jokes and also harassed me about what I was eating. Not one person encouraged me and mind you, most of these people are diabetics. I forget to mention that my family was raised under the Pentecostal denomination. The pic below explains their dietary lifestyle.

Throughout the day, I ignored them to the best of my ability. Because they could tell that the macaroni-n-cheese was different, they didn’t eat it. I know that my sister told them that it was a vegan and that I made it. I also had them watch Food, Inc. which brought up a lively discussion. My uncle, whom I always seem to get into an argument with every time I see him, agreed with the movie and he actually didn’t get on my nerves at all. My other aunt also agreed by stating that her father (my grandfather), who worked in the local chicken plant, told them they were pumping the chickens with drugs. I was upset that these "people" knew this but continued to eat this crap. Half way through the movie, the DVD player acts up. I tried another DVD, same issue. Needless to say, I was upset.

I can’t remember how the conversation came up, but my cousin said something on the lines of I need to take my macaroni-n-cheese with me. That’s when “it” hit the fan and I was heated, so I left. I didn’t say goodbye or I love you or see you later to anybody including my mother. I just took all of my stuff (I accidentally left my hot dogs) and made the two-hour drive back to Philly.. When I was on the highway, I called my best friend, Keisha, and I told her about it. She had already met my family at Thanksgiving last year. I told her what happened, so let me know that I can’t expect them to understand this. While I was talking to her, my mother was calling me. It took her about 30 minutes to realize that I had left. When I called her back, I let my mother know that I will not be attending any more family functions, because they never did and they never will respect me. Of course, my mother gave me the “you know how your family is.” That’s not good enough for me.

When I got back to home, I told my therapist (who was a former vegetarian) about it. She said the same thing that Keisha said. Six months later, at my godmother’s wake, I saw my mother and two of my aunts. One of them had the nerve to say to me, “John, you are gaining weight; it must be all of that tofu you are eating.” I wanted to say something, but I’m respectful and my mother as short as she is, would have slapped my teeth out of my mouth. Last year, my graduation wasn't even better. Although they know how I feel about meat, they still refused to understand my lifestyle. Someone brought some processed vegetarian alternative and it was "here John, are you happy now?" Thanks to apps like meetup and Facebook groups, I'm able to connect with other like minded Black vegans like myself. Because we understand how it is being a vegan in the African American community, we have become more of a family. You can check out websites like Black Vegans Rock to find inspiration, tips, and communities. I also network with vegans/vegetarians from different ethnicities and nationalities.

Ultimately, It’s not what I have learned, but I’m learning that you can’t change people’s way of life, especially when it comes to black people. I learned to excuse myself people are being ignorant about my lifestyle because I don’t have the time or the patience to argue with them. The only thing I can do is be around people who celebrate me, not tolerate me.