Here is the first story I told myself about a purchase I made one day: I must not have been paying attention when my personal shopper called me to inform me the grocery store was out of my preferred brand of white sugar. Could she give me a different brand that is in stock? The second story I told myself when I saw it was that I must have picked this particular brand without even thinking about the name, it made me sick to my stomach. (And feeling sick to my stomach is okay, but does not really fix the problem. I know that.) I knew I was contemplating different versions but my lapse of judgement was terrifying and enlightening. Either way, I came home with a bag of Dixie Crystals Pure Cane Sugar in my trunk. Either way, I wasn’t thinking about it when I ordered it:
Not paying attention can be a significant character flaw. A lot of damage and a lot of hurt can be inflicted on innocent people when we are not paying attention to what we are doing, or saying, or by enabling others.
For I could also tell myself I wasn’t thinking about it when I thoughtlessly placed the bag of Dixie Crystals on my pantry shelf when I got home. I could tell myself a story about not seeing the label on the bag, which was clearly labeled: Dixie Crystals brand. I could then tell you a story about how, at that moment, I rationalized that I am a pretty decent person. I vote Democrat, we attend NAACP meetings, and we work for other worthy causes that support progressive ideas:
Therefore, I could rationalize how this was a singular mistake, and that purchasing Dixie Crystals in the context of my life doesn’t really matter.
I could tell myself a story about how this is the South, after all, and like Dixie Crystals, a statue in Graham, NC, which I circle several times a week in a car when driving through town, is unavoidable. Never mind that I’m heartbroken thinking about the statue every time I pass it, and I think it should be taken down because I saw several protests and saw videos of racist, white supremacists calling Black peaceful protesters the N-word, something that made me ashamed of living here. When hearing my accent, a Southerner who thinks she is pretty progressive once told me, “You should move back North if you hate it here” as if racism only exists in the South:
While I never saw a bag design like Dixie Crystals in the North, for me, sugar is a symbol that will always carry significance beyond the bag design and branding.
Therefore, any attempt at differentiating between the accidental purchase of the sugar bag and the statues would be a lie. The feelings I have about buying this bag of Dixie Crystals sugar are complex and real; and the choice to make a confession, however painful, is telling. That’s what this blog post is about:
I know in my heart that I should make ethical choices about buying this kind of bag of sugar. I can make a choice about the statue, too. I can join protests, sign petitions, and forward videos of the protests so everyone in the US knows that statute is wrong.
There’s another broad stroke for this kind of discussion. I could also make a promise to never, ever buy another bag of Dixie Crystals and no one would have to know about this purchase! For, in truth, I was still gazing at this empty bag, contemplating my lack of judgment, paying attention to my actions when it crossed my mind, but knowing I still had a chance to escape any more thoughts or discussions about it. It was the feeling of self-doubt that crept up on me then. Not telling this story would be terrible for me. That’s the emotion, the ethic crisis I had to investigate:
For I had to admit to someone besides my husband that after reading Dixie Crystals on the emptied bag, I actually placed the bag in the kitchen garbage. I chose not to care about it for a nanosecond but trying to ignore it didn’t work.
I was horrified by this reaction. The shame loop started over again: it was because I wasn’t thinking about it that made this a bad choice. What if I do this in other ways? Images of last summer’s still raging pandemic and the ongoing Civil Justice protests pounded in my head. But this was the classic fall. Was this the first sign of a relapse, no matter how small? The forgetting. An empty bag of sugar in the garbage can.
I went to the computer. Found the website. Read about the history of this brand of sugar, including how it used a Confederate Flag symbol as its brand symbol, or what is called the Stars and Bars on it and cringed. The fact that this company removed it at some point did nothing to calm my nerves. There is an association with the word Dixie, and it won’t go away for me. Even the Dixie Chicks, inspired by the murder of George Floyd decided to change their name. Recently, after I questioned the sincerity of a Democratic candidate who won in the South I heard “Dixiecrat” for the first time to explain how she had snuck inside the party, ignoring the largely liberal Democratic platform.
The bag was still safely nestled in the kitchen garbage can. I lifted the lid to look at it. I felt dirty. I was caught. This was my sorry moral dilemma, I must find a way to resolve it. That was my thinking. My body shuddered. A full-tilt shame spiral ensued. I heard voices from most Black and Brown people I know and respect saying, “Don’t trust white people…they are sneaky.”
I cried when I first read the book, How to Be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi. Then I told myself that crying was a dumb white person’s way of dealing with it. That crying without action did not add up to any change. White people crying is a luxury. Still, I found his book to be a valuable resource:
I understood I will always be a student of learning how to be anti-racist. For me, the study will be never ending. Creating, adapting, and profiting from white privilege and systematic racism is our system.
A local once said to me, “The company is fine to work for as long as you keep your eyes to yourself, your nose to the grindstone, and don’t pay attention to what they are doing.” But in my line of work, there is no way to overthink. As a white and privileged woman, I carry a responsibility for the history of sugar and people of color. White Supremacists use coded systems because symbols carry meaning. Teachers who teach Black, Brown, Native Indian, Asian, all minority children, young people, or adults, must pay careful attention for their sake.
Mary Louise Penaz holds a BA in English from Hunter College, where she was awarded the Academy of American Poets Award College Prize. She also holds an MA and Ph.D. in English and Literature from the University of Houston, Texas, and an MFA in Creative Writing from Bennington Writing Seminars in Bennington, Vermont.
Mary Louise currently resides in North Carolina with her husband and their Golden Pyrenees, Sheldon Buttercup. Her writing has been published in various literary magazines and anthologies.
Mary Louise Penaz 
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