Finger lickin' good

When talking about the South, some of the first images that come to mind for some people are images of food. When I say food I’m not just talking about any kind of food. I am talking about things such as fried chicken, mac and cheese, and collard greens. These are all foods that the South is well known for. Many people who are just traveling through Southern states stop at various small town restaurants just to get a taste of this "Southern goodness." You can ask almost anyone who has ever had a "good ole Southern" meal and they would probably tell you just how good it can be.
In addition there are people who have never visited the South that have heard about food here. For example, the other day during a conversation with a girl who had never been south of Tennessee, when told I was from the South, she immediately went to asking about the food we had and if it was as good as people stated. It was then that the realization hit me, Southern food is a good representation of the South.

Invisible Man

A couple years ago, I began to read what would become one of the most dreaded, yet inspirational books I've ever read--Invisible Man, by Ralph Ellison. When I think of the South, especially the old South, images of cruelty and injustice are often present. Just like in the book, the people of the South had moments of epiphany in which they realized how important visibility and a civil rights were. They stood up against the government and fought long and hard for a right to have an opinion and be heard. So when I think of the old South, I essentially think of perseverance, hardships, colors, and bloodshed...
In regards to Invisible Man, the narrator remains nameless throughout the entire book, perhaps because he isn't sure of his own identity. Just like many other African-Americans, he is forced to learn where he "belongs" in society; that is, if he even belongs at all. And so begins his eternal spiral literally to hell. Ironically enough, where he lives is extremely well lit, even to the point he dares to compare it to Broadway. But isn't "light" supposed to be pure and refer to heaven? Apparently not. Everything he does is wrong, everything he thinks is criticized. At the turn of every page came another gruesome scene of violence--a fight he had with his own race and plenty of times he was abused by white-folk. Slowly but surely, the narrator realized that no matter what he did to make himself "visible" in a world which considered him nothing more than a walking shadow, he was essentially always going to be something so simple as an invisible man. Multiple times he was chastised by his own "brothers"--those he looked up to, preached for, stood up for; those of the infamous "Brotherhood." All in all, the narrator concludes that he has always been an "invisible man" and so retreats into an underground basement where society can't see him, he can't see society, and the only things that enlighten him are the lightbulbs that shine ever so bright.