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Philly – The City of Brotherly Love

Philly – The City of Brotherly Love

I just gave a talk about the history of candy at the Historical Society in Philadelphia. The most amazing aspect of the “City of Brotherly Love,” more than the architecture, the ports, or the gardens, is the people. Sitting curbside at a Cuban restaurant afterwards, I watched the parade of humanity go by: Muslim women with hijabs, Latino families with dark-eyed children, a Vietnamese cook in chief’s whites, European American students chatting at a nearby café, and two African American workers with key-laden rings at their hips.

Historic Philly Sign
Historic Philly Sign

Candy and Love

As for candy – for most people, candy is a metaphor, a metaphor based on the experience of love. For generations, grandmothers have fished sweets from their purses for eager grandchildren; lovers have shared chocolates in ribbon-wrapped boxes; and on occasion children have given candy to their teachers, bosses to their secretaries, and friends to each other. They are the stuff of birthday parties and weddings: they are us.

Philly Girls
Philly Girls

Candy Origins Across the Globe

You could also say that our diversity is a metaphor for sweets, but it’s more literal than that. Chocolate originated in Mesoamerica and was eaten by Native Americans, long prepared with sugar from India and spices from Asia, or as a coating on Mediterranean almonds, British raisins, and North African coffee beans, first consumed by Muslim men. The hard candies were European and jellies from the ancient Arabic Apothecaries. The brittle came with the Irish fleeing starvation, while the peanut traveled from Argentina to Africa then back on slave ships whose struggling inhabitants produced the sugar with the strength of survivors, which they were.

We owe them, all of them, gratitude. They are the sea of inhabitants in Philadelphia, new arrivals, and countless generations. That’s it. Love. Brotherly, sisterly, and for all time.

Black History Museum Talk & Tasting

Last Saturday, I had the pleasure, and I do mean pleasure, of speaking at the Black History Museum in Alexandria. The museum was formally a one-room library for African Americans during segregation. Since then, the site has expanded and now features a presentation and exhibition area.

I don’t know what I liked best. The museum itself is beautiful, clean, bright and airy. And while African American history is too large to fit into the New York City library, the small museum presents just the right information to make the trip warm and informative.

The exhibition on the day I gave my talk was called “Before the Spirits are Swept Away: African American Historic Site Paintings” by Sherry Z. Sanabria . I’ve seen Sanabria’s work else –portraits of captivity expressed though abandoned slave quarters, mental hospitals, concentration camps and prisons. The images are disturbing, revealing and beautiful at the same time.

The best part for me as a speaker, though, was undoubtedly the people: Audrey Davis, the curator, the staff, and the guests. All of them were friendly, smart and quick to engage in interesting conversations.  The talk lasted longer than scheduled but no one, especially me, seemed to mind.