Chicken--both the bird and the food--has played multiple roles in the lives of African American women from the slavery era to the present. It has provided food and a source of income for their families, shaped a distinctive culture, and helped women define and exert themselves in racist and hostile environments. Psyche A. Williams-Forson examines the complexity of black women's legacies using food as a form of cultural work. While acknowledging the negative interpretations of black culture associated with chicken imagery, Williams-Forson focuses her analysis on the ways black women have forged their own self-definitions and relationships to the "gospel bird."
Exploring material ranging from personal interviews to the comedy of Chris Rock, from commercial advertisements to the art of Kara Walker, and from cookbooks to literature, Williams-Forson considers how black women arrive at degrees of self-definition and self-reliance using certain foods. She demonstrates how they defy conventional representations of blackness in relationship to these foods and exercise influence through food preparation and distribution. Understanding these phenomena clarifies how present interpretations of blacks and chicken are rooted in a past that is fraught with both racism and agency. The traditions and practices of feminism, Williams-Forson argues, are inherent in the foods women prepare and serve.
Dr. Psyche Williams-Forson is professor and chair of the Department of American Studies at the University of Maryland College Park. She is author of Eating While Black: Food Shaming and Race in America (winner of the James Beard Media Award for Food Issues and Advocacy, 2023); co-editor of Taking Food Public: Redefining Food in a Changing World (2013); and, Building Houses out of Chicken Legs: Black Women, Food, and Power (winner of the Elli Köngäs-Maranda Prize, American Folklore Society). She is known nationally and internationally for her work in building the scholarly subfield of Black food studies, and she has published numerous articles on topics such as Black women, food, and power; food and literature; food and sustainability; race, food, and design thinking; eating and workplace cultures; as well as the historical legacies of race and gender (mis)representation, with (and without) food. She has also been interviewed on numerous podcasts, in several news articles, and for documentaries, including Al Roker's "Family Style" (NBC Today), Netflix’s "Ugly Delicious," and The Invisible Vegan. Dr. Williams-Forson is an affiliate faculty member of the Theatre, Dance, and Performing Studies, the Departments of African American Studies, Anthropology, The Harriet Tubman Department of Women, Gender, and Sexuality Studies, and the Consortium on Race, Gender, and Ethnicity.
What seems like such a narrow subject at first (black women and chicken) reveals a depth I could not have imagined possible.
I particularly liked the first half of the book where the author explores the history of the stereotypes surrounding what black people eat. The images chosen are particularly powerful!
In the second half, she analyzes contemporary works of art and their meaning, but it felt too scholarly and subjective to me.
I feel it's still a great point of entry for anyone interested in the subject of food and race.
I attended a session about Foodways at the Organization of American Historians and the author, Psyche A. Williams-Forson, was the moderator of the panel. I first learned of waiter carriers, women who prepared chicken and other food stuff and sold them to railroad passengers who made their purchases through the windows to women who were below on the tracks. They were not on the platform, since those space were reserved for White people. I’ve been reading much about railroads, since my father was a Pullman Porter and dining car waiter. Yet, before there were dining cars, these vendors served passengers. These women were early African American entrepreneurs, and Gordonsville, VA has recognized their contributions with historical markers. They were not just cooks but women who used their power and skills with food to shape their own paths.
Not a foodways person, I did not realize the many stereotypes of Black people and chickens and assumptions about the African American diet. In this book, Williams-Forson explore many issues, particularly cultural representation and misrepresentations and the enduring white racist propaganda which is still in the culture, but perhaps not as evident as the cartoons and figurines of early eras. It is 2020 and Aunt Jemima is finally coming off the box of pancake mix. The task is to recognize how race, class, gender and power continue to oppress the lives of Black people so that we can dismantle these structures. Instead, the use of food in films and novels can be a source of “comfort” and familiarity, but it can be a misrepresentation of the dynamics and power with Black women, as the invisible or visible cook in the narrative.
My mother was from Pittsburgh, not the deep south, so we rarely had fried chicken—our chicken was more likely to be baked or roasted. However, like many working-class families in the 1950s New York, we ate other meats and fish, which we could get fresh from the Fulton Fish Market. But I can believe the stereotypes that Black people face in restaurants, where waiters assume that they are there for the chicken.
The history is long, as Southern food become distinct. Often with White women following their cooks to write down recipes and claiming them as “representing the White South. Yet, the image of heavy-set Black cook with a rag on her head dominated the media of the antebellum era and after the Civil War. Happy to be serving White people with her smiles. Where are the Black women’s voices?
There is this connection with Black people and chickens. Chickens were among many of the animals near the home, but they were not as valued as hogs or turkeys. It was common for share croppers and tenant farmers, who along with growing vegetables, used the live stock to feed their families. Food was important in networks as women aided others, recognizing the value of community for survival.
Williams-Forson does considerable research for images, narrative and uses both representations in novels as well as interviews with women and interviews with student about their own food habits, in particular their feelings about chicken. I did not realize there were so many literary battles centered on food as people came to dinner, migrated to the North with Southern ways and so forth. I read some of the novels Williams-Forson discussed, but have to reread Your Blues Ain’t Like Mine by Bebe Moore Campbell, since I was more into the politics and did not appreciate the use of food.
Food and Church is a significant chapter, since the sharing of cooking and eating in church was a big part of rural people’s Sunday. Eating at church meant they could commune and not have to travel home between services. Having the preacher to dinner was also a tradition, and he also got to pick the piece of the chicken that he wanted first. There is much here and many stories to tell. There is also a gender division in preparing meals, women did the chicken, perhaps under the direction of men, but men fried the fish.
The use of representations even by African American artists and storytellers can also be problematic. I was myself trouble by George Tillman’s film, Soul Food (1997), I saw it but was not applauding it as others did. Again, my parents were not migrants from the South, thus we had different diets, it was not the same Sunday dinner each week. Yet, Williams-Forson challenges the limited visions of women and the celebration of a diet that kills the mother, since she neglects her diabetes and other family members do not intervene. In the end, they are intent upon carrying on the tradition. Tillman’s issue was more about what happens with the matriarch passes, but why did she had to pass?
In looking at some of Kara Walker’s art, that is disruptive and disturbing, while some representation of family can be “comforting.” We have to do more to explore the history and challenge the myths that can be one dimensional. We can celebrate Rosa Parks, but also see her as one of many Black women who challenged Jim Crow train cars, in fact taking the railroads to court, as well as segregated buses.
The more history I read, the more I appreciate the legacy of resistance. It was many decades ago that Angela Davis wrote that in the face of slavery survival was a form of resistance. Now we are learning more about the various ways that after emancipation, during the Jim Crow era even now when new forms systemic racism persist that we still have resistance. Women have to be part of that story, with various forms of expression including food.
Really fascinating, and a subject I never would have thought about or realized was so complex. I skimmed the last few chapters and it was a little too scholastic for me in some parts, but I really liked it.
This is by far one of the most interesting books I've ever read. It explores the links between black american history/culture and the food we eat, drawing from extensive primary documents and research. It poses that food within the black experience, especially chicken, not as something of stereotype, but actually a tool of resistance and independence (as enslaved black women were able to sell it at a time when they were considered property) and illustrates how our connection to it and other foods has been become mocked, racialized, and minstrel-ized over time. Amazing exploration of socio-cultural proportions!
This book was a great look at the complications of stereotypes surrounding chicken and Black women, and really resting in those complications and resisting easy answers. It was very tenderly done, and I really appreciated the care with which Williams-Forson handled the various issues at play: not just the stereotypes and answering them, but also the lived experiences of Black women regarding their relationships to women. For that careful handling, I really recommend this book, even if the subject isn't one that you might immediately think would be interesting.
A look at chicken in African-American history and contemporary culture, the ways women in particular have used chickens and cooking as a source of agency. Interesting in some parts, but problematic at others. She wants Kara Walker to be more explicit about the intentions of her art, for instance, which seems absolutely unfeasible. Got to talk to the author on the phone for our class, though, and she seems a nice, intelligent person.
While I was expecting this book to be more in line with the “food writing” that I like reading, it contained much more cultural/race/gender theory than I was expecting, and quite frankly, could handle.
I must be terribly naive. I expected a book about the great heritage of Black people and great cooking. This is a book about prejudice. Most of it was prejudice I didn't even know existed. And I would have read it with interest if it hadn't been so dry.
Building Houses Out of Chicken Legs is a fascinating and important work (worth noting, I read this book by choice because I have a passion for food history, not as an academic requirement in any way). The folkloric aspects are incredibly rich, and the oral histories and archival research offer powerful, underrepresented narratives that deserve to be heard. When the author focuses on evidence-based storytelling or lets the women speak in their own words, the book is both moving and genuinely enlightening. Those were the strongest parts by far.
But where the book lost me was in the overuse of Critical Race Theory. I am not opposed to CRT as a framework. It clearly has value in this context and can help unpack the complex intersections of race, gender, labor, and food. The problem is not that CRT was used, but that it was so overapplied and heavy-handed in places that it nearly drowned out the stories themselves. Some sections became so abstract and subjective that they bordered on self-parody, which was frustrating because it pulled attention away from the powerful material that should have been front and center.
That said, the author’s use of feminist and gender theory was far more effective. She applied those lenses with a certain artistry that felt integrated rather than imposed. Her historical analysis, when it stayed close to the facts, was excellent and often eye-opening.
Despite its flaws, this book is worth reading for the substance it provides. These histories matter, and the author deserves credit for collecting and elevating them. I just wish the theoretical framing hadn’t overwhelmed the material as often as it did. Still, it earns a solid four stars for its contribution to food history, cultural studies, and the ongoing work of recovering voices too often left out.
I was lucky to have the author come and do a presentation at my company which prompted me to read this book.
I found a lot of this work to be interesting and engaging. I didn't find the last chapter about the art of Kara Walker to be as compelling as others (felt like too much loose interpretation vs a more grounded reading).
What a great book! This fascinating approach to examining Black foodways is definitely worth a read. I included it on my reading list for one of my comprehensive exams. It is also a meaningful source in one of my favorite books, Christopher Carter's The Spirit of Soul Food.