In Celebration of B. Smith

Going to B. Smiths in downtown Washington, DC, was like a pilgrimage for Howard University students in the early 2000’s. My friends and I would don our most adult attire (a.k.a. internship suits and dresses) and make the journey via cab in an effort to blend in with the professionals and affluent patrons that frequented the renowned Southern-themed restaurant.

My memories of the dining experience can only be described as magical. While the food was delicious and beautifully plated, the actual magic lived in the decor, the ambiance, and our pride in practicing cooperative economics. I remember hoping, at every visit, that B. Smith herself, the model, restaurateur, and lifestyle guru, would come out of the kitchen to greet us. It never happened, but I was satisfied just to feel her presence in the place and to know that I was giving something back to the iconic Black woman that had always been a source of inspiration for me. B. Smith passed away in late February, and I felt the loss very profoundly.

Right around the time of her passing, I attended a panel discussion of Black international chefs. They talked about the ongoing struggle to have food and preparation methodologies of the Black diaspora received as refined, upscale, and worthy of consideration alongside eurocentric traditions. While all of the chefs were classically trained, meaning fluent in eurocentric cooking and presentation, there was disagreement about how to respond to this challenge. Some of the chefs were willing to compromise and repackage traditional African or Caribbean dishes and flavors to be better received by their industry. Others decided to forgo recognition to honor the complexity and beauty of traditional, black techniques and presentation.

I am not a chef, but this struggle is very familiar to me. This existential crisis shows up early and often for Black people in America. I am continually grappling with how to be authentic, especially when there are so many parts of me that have been socialized toward a specific definition of success.

In my professional life, for example, I have been trained in organizational behavior in American schools, which means my professional practices inherently perpetuate white supremacist workplace culture. It is an enormous task to unlearn these kinds of things, and an even greater task to decide when and how to begin to operate differently given the propensity of some people to demonize, weaponize and tokenize the parts of you that they find unfamiliar or unacceptable. Frankly, it is exhausting. Like, actually mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and physically exhausting.

When I reflect on those visits to B. Smith’s in the light of that recent panel discussion and my own personal and professional experiences, I have an even greater appreciation for both the southern fare on her menus and her famous quote, “I have stood on a mountain of no’s for one yes.” B. Smith, with her dark brown skin and loc’d hair, broke barriers in the fashion, food, television, and restaurant industries while inevitably feeling the exhaustion I feel right now. Somehow, she even had the fortitude to publicly share her battle with early-onset Alzheimer's, the disease that eventually took her life at the age of 70.

I regret that I never mailed a fan letter or sent an email to let her know that watching her television show, B. Smith With Style, seeded my passion for interior design, and the success of her business empire gave me permission to have entrepreneurial aspirations. For now, this blog will have to suffice as written documentation of my appreciation.

I vow to honor her memory with my actions and hope you will think of B. Smith's very authentic journey when you are trying to decide whether to repackage your ingredients.

Harambee!

Genia Wright, Free Time Aficionado

www.geniawright.com

Barbara Elaine “B.” Smith. Restaurateur, magazine publisher, celebrity chef, and nationally known lifestyle maven (August 24, 1949 – February 22, 2020)