"A Letter To My Beloved" Poem

Please take a few minutes to experience this poem by Elizabeth Acevedo. It begins at 1 minute, and talks about racialized violence and interracial love by talking about food. Specifically, with a Cuban dish called moros y cristianos (moors and christians) where white rice and black beans are cooked harmoniously in the same pot. A metaphor for hope, I think. 



When I came across this poem, I knew I had to think deeper and that this would be a good platform to work through it. The poet blends images and associations of this dish with thoughts on how racism manifests itself in America and her experience with dating a white man. 

Like we discussed in class, food can embody so much more than solely its ingredients. We made this clear with each reading, and especially when thinking through what makes a perfect meal so perfect. 

"for the first time since I learned how to cook I understand a meal can be a eulogy in mouthfuls"

At this point of the poem, the beans popped open from being on the heat for too long, and had to be scrapped, leaving them with only white rice to eat. This imagery is powerful, in that it further brings attention to how whiteness is prioritized, and how too often violence against poc are not seen as a reality to those who aren't faced with the aftermath.   

"I refuse to scrub the stove. Some things deserve to be smudged, gleamingly remembered..."

Perhaps this is her way of declaring or remembering that yes, Black Lives Matter. In the context of our class, it is important that this poem's setting is the kitchen. It is a vulnerable space. Each time you enter it, it is because you need something. You need food or something to quench your thirst. You can reclaim the space by making something for yourself, and what you choose to make says something about who you are. Even heating up something in the microwave can be a revolutionary act, if you consider how many other possibilities there are.

Later, the poet ends this piece with important images: 

It's about... how we keep dancing, how we keep cooking, how we keep playing with toy guns, playing our music loud, being 'loud to get lost and ask a stranger to help, how we keep walking into store and out of store and put put our hands up and put our hands in our pockets and put our hands over our mouth when another black body falls, and we keep on and we keep on and we keep on 

Here, she's saying that this life is meant for all people, regardless of race, to be able to live without fear... that she wants to be able to wake up to this world filled with less racism and more love. In the mean time we all have to keep moving, but not forgetting the past and what pain our struggles hold.  

 "...And we keep on sitting across this dinner table with 100 tombstones that haven't been engraved yet crumbling in our mouths. And we keep on, praying that all of this spoil won't be the fruit of tomorrow, that there is still a better meal for us to share"

This is about hope. This is all about how to move on. This is about the need to look for the bright spots, for a future to strive for if we are going to change for the better. I really appreciated this poem for how it complicated food experiences with race in America.