Aunt Jemima Loves Pancakes

Aunt Jemima moved swiftly through the rain pulling the collar of her jacket tighter against her neck - tears ran down her cheeks. The wind grew stronger, practically turning the umbrella inside out. The neon light beckoned as she got closer to Joe's Diner. She entered, shook out her umbrella and sat on a stool at the counter. “Nasty night,” the waitress said, “What can I get for you?”

Aunt Jemima’s eyes took in her surroundings, “Coffee and a short stack,” she replied.

“Coming up,” the waitress reached for a cup and poured the coffee, “Do I know you? You look so familiar. Cream and sugar?” she stared back at her.

“Cream please,” as she unwrapped the napkin holding the utensils. It was her birthday. No reason to celebrate. She had planned to work for many more years. Her face front and center on the red boxes that lined the shelves at stores everywhere. There were photo shoots, personal appearances, costume fittings...all a thing of the past. Star power gone. Just an ordinary no one.

Here she sat trying to sort through her options, her next move. After a couple of hundred years the dynasty had reached its final box of pancakes under the Jemima rule. Maybe open a chain of soul food restaurants? Stick to the all natural, organic syrup biz? The thought of starting over at someplace like a Chick-fil-A made her nausaus.

“My name is Sally. I've been waitressing at Joe's Diner for 25 years. I've gotten good at recognizing when someone has a lot on their mind. You look like that someone."

Startled, Jemima looked up, "Things are happening way to fast."

"Oh, tough day? Want to talk? I’ve heard all kinds of stories. Sometimes I can help. Often I just listen.”

“Thanks Sally. Jemima hesitated, and then the words flowed out of her like butter on a stack of hot pancakes, “You can’t imagine how shocked I was when I heard that I was going to be put out to pasture - banished and abandoned - set out to fend for myself. The career I figured was mine till the next Jemima was old enough to take over. Disillusioned. I turned into a raging bull. Furious, I went all out to defend my family’s position. I wrote my Congressmen, Senators, the NAACP, ACLU, even a letter to the People Magazine's opinion page. I got nowhere. Sorry, Aunt Jemima, time to move on, they kept saying over and over again. They told me how they were getting rid of all reminders of the Civil War. Changing Street names, removing statues of Generals, and making way for us to get the respect we deserve. I was pissed off. I told them that we weren’t apart of all that - just a family that loved pancakes and wanted to spread the word. Aunt Jemima is an American institution, I pleaded. It was as if it fell on deaf ears. They all said that I was thinking like old times and it was 2020. The time had come to change the world’s view of Black and Brown people being seen in this negative light. After all the females in my family had held this starring role for generations. I don’t think my Great, Great, Great, Grandmother or my Aunts would ever have imagined, in their wildest dreams, that we would be forced into retirement,” her eyes glistened with tears.

“Way back in 1893 at the World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago we got our big break. Aunt Jemima took her position on the box of pancake mix and the rest is history. We were part of the Original Pearl Milling Company dating back to the 1800’s. Lots of good and bad times happened back in the day. Finally, scooped up by the Quaker Oats in 1926. Best flour mix ever for delicious pancakes and waffles. Every market, grocery, restaurant knew who we were. No matter where we traveled in the world we were recognized like movie stars,” Jemima paused and drew a deep breath. “We were the Aunt Jemima family.”

“I know all about Aunt Jemima pancake mix. We serve it here. It’s like part of the backbone of the good ole USA,” Sally sighed.

“We held a top position on every breakfast menu from the Waldorf Astoria to every Diner from California to Georgia. Give me a stack of Aunt Jemima’s best, whether you were a land baron or a working stiff. Those customers loved us. We were the main headliners in slapjacks, flapjacks, and hotcakes. We, the Aunt Jemima girls stood tall and proud. Never you mind, we were respected, good days work for a good day's pay. That’s what we were taught. It was a generational role, we surely thought it would go on forever. My ancestors must have believed that pancakes and Aunt Jemima would be here till the world came to an end,” she took a tissue from her purse and blew her nose.

“End of an era, right?” Sally whispered.

“I know the world is changing. Some ways it’s good and then other things take my breath away. I realize people are looking at people of color differently in these times. That’s a good message. Shameful that some stuff took so long. Think it was George Floyd, along with many others, who made the difference for us. Perhaps we stayed on the cover of the box too long. Should have made the move sooner. Yet here I am looking for a new way to make a difference. Going to turn these monumental times into an opportunity. I’m close to graduating college, plus I have a slew of credits for life experiences,” her voice sounding hopeful.

" You’ve got spirit,” Sally uttered.

“So much to do. Getting rid of this headscarf and frumpy dress. Always hated how they made me look so plump. You know, since I was a kid I've been interested in science. My Mother wanted me to be a doctor. Thought I’d be really good at it. She was quite disappointed when I chose to stay in the family pancake business. I'll be takeing the MEDCAT’S this fall. I’m signed up for the review course right now and my score gets better and better with each practice test. It's never to late to start over I guess” she said with a positive note.

“You are a girl with a plan. Good one at that,” Sally shared.

“I always say no matter what path I take, pancakes will always hold a place in my heart. Traditional flapjacks or add chocolate chips, pecans, blueberries or use your imagination. There’s no limit. Funny, I sound like I’m the public relations person to promote slapjacks. I guess I just can’t stop. You can take the girl out of the pancake business but you can’t take the pancake out of the girl,” she laughed. "I kind of liked the headscarf. Everyone is wearing them these days."

Jemima was going to be just fine.