I took some time this weekend to wander around town and take some pictures, then stopped by the chocolate shop where Jessica works. While I was there, a customer told us the following story:
She was traveling through Mississippi recently on her way to visit some friends, and stopped at a convenience store to buy some snacks. Feeling the urge for some ice cream, she told the attendant working behind the counter that she would like a scoop of vanilla ice cream in a sugar cone, and seeing the jar of rainbow-colored sprinkles next to the ice cream, she asked to have some of the colored sprinkles on the ice cream, too.
The store attendant proceeded to scoop out some ice cream, place it in the cone, then take a spoonful of chocolate sprinkles and pour them over the whole affair. Surprised, the woman told the attendant again that she wanted colored sprinkles on her cone, not chocolate sprinkles. The attendant looked at her with a perplexed expression until she pointed to the jar of multicolored sprinkles.
“Oh,” the store attendant said in a deep southern drawl, “you want the rainbow sprinkles! Why didn’t you say so?”
“I did,” the woman told her. “I said I wanted some colored sprinkles on it.”
“Well, these are rainbow sprinkles,” the attendant responded, pointing to jar of multicolored sprinkles.
“But these,” she continued, pointing to the jar of dark brown, chocolate sprinkles, “these are the colored sprinkles. See? They’re colored.”
5 responses so far ↓
1 Brian Woods // May 31, 2008 at 10:57 am
I call crap on the story. As a Mississippian, I have only ever heard of sprinkles and chocolate sprinkles. As far as my normal everyday run-of-the-mill white family has ever heard, that’s all the names they have.
Of course, it’s incredibly hard for facts to get in the way of a “good” story.
2 RM // May 31, 2008 at 11:28 am
Brian,
Thanks for commenting!
The story wasn’t meant to be any sort of indictment on the state of Mississippi or its populace. I was simply retelling the story here as I heard it. As far as I’m concerned, I believe the story as it was told to us - but I’d find it equally believable if it happened in any other state, too.
I think the story is a great example of the weird, unintentional (and perhaps, institutionalized) racism that still exists today. In fact, I’m fairly certain that the store attendant probably didn’t even realize that calling the chocolate sprinkles “colored” was a form of residual racism.
I think it’s more of a generational thing than a geography thing, to be honest. Heck, I recently had a conversation with some people in my parents’ generation and their parents’ generation about how it’s probably not wise to keep calling Italian table wine “Dago Red” in public. It’s just something they always did without realizing the implications…
As for questioning the facts of the story I posted here, I can only say that I’m retelling the story as it was told to me. Also, the person telling it certainly didn’t seem to have any prejudice against southern states or people who live there. The only reason she mentioned that it occurred in Mississippi is because I was wearing a hat from the University of Florida and she was a graduate of University of Georgia, so we were discussing how much we enjoyed college football in the south.
This conversation about southern schools, combined with the fact that we were in a chocolate shop, made her remember the experience she had the last time she drove down to Georgia, through Mississippi…
I hope that clarifies things!
3 Brian Woods // May 31, 2008 at 12:40 pm
I wasn’t trying to suggest that there was anything wrong with your retelling of the story (I certainly don’t doubt that you heard the story exactly as you typed it), just that the story itself seemed problematic.
When I read this, I was reminded of a story a former coworker told me:
She was traveling with a boyfriend across the South. They stopped and stayed the night in Jackson, MS, and the next morning, they went to Shoney’s and noticed the restaurant was completely segregated.
This lady was only a couple of years older than me. I verified where she stayed at and which Shoney’s they went to, and let her know for years that the staff there was almost entirely made up of minorities (as was most of the patrons) and that if something like that happened, odds are it was coincidence.
The version as told was a little longer, and the person definitely seemed to enjoy telling a story of Southern racism circa 1998 (if it had been from even a decade earlier, I wouldn’t have been able to shoot through it so easily). I think a lot of people are like that, and that’s the vibe I got when I read the story you retold.
I will happily be the first in line to say that the South has problems and will continue to do so for a good long while (basically until everyone associated with a good ole boy system dies and all their kids die). But the fact that I can’t find anyone who ever heard of “rainbow” or “colored” sprinkles makes the story suspect.
Personally, there is a huge weight that people from Mississippi and a few other choice southern states drag around with them. When there are so many people who aren’t up to the task of carrying it, I hate when people toss an extra tire or two on top.
I appreciate your willingness to reply and letting me know that you had done so.
4 Oh! the Things You Can See at the web journal of brian woods // May 31, 2008 at 1:30 pm
[...] so I was clicking around the internet today and found this blog post. Needless to say, like always, I was fascinated by a story intimating racism in my home [...]
5 RM // May 31, 2008 at 3:39 pm
Some great points there, Brian… a lot of food for thought.
As I mentioned in my earlier comment, I really don’t believe the fact that this happened in Mississippi matters all that much to the story. I’ve seen similar and, on some occasions, far worse incidents like this occur in places with far less memorable (though still existent) histories with racism.
But I don’t doubt that the person who told me this story heard everything exactly as she heard it. What’s in question, however, is whether racism was at the heart of the misunderstanding or just differences in terminology. Sure, you haven’t heard someone in your family or neighborhood refer to chocolate sprinkles as “colored sprinkles,” but that doesn’t mean the terminology was fabricated. Mississippi is a big state, and I know I hear a new name for everyday items on a regular basis no matter where I’m living. Heck, I’ve had similar misunderstandings over terminology (minus the racial issue, of course) in conversations with people who live a few blocks away.
In the story you mentioned previously about Shoney’s, the problem was in your coworker’s interpretation of the situation - not whether it actually occurred. (At least, that’s my understanding - unless you were accusing her of making up the whole story for the sake of having a “deep south racism” tale.)
In that situation, the predominantly non-white staff was probably either encouraged to sit away from patrons during their break (as is the rule at a lot of food service establishments) or chose to do so on their own. Your coworker misinterpreted the separation as racial segregation, and you pointed out why that might not have actually been the case.
In the case of the chocolate sprinkles, this could be a similar situation. The lady who told me the story might have misinterpreted the store attendant’s terminology and the reason the chocolate sprinkles were referred to as “colored.”
I think you make some very interesting points, but I’m definitely not willing to “call crap” on the story simply because one person from the state and his family haven’t heard that phrase before.
In the end, whether it’s evident of racism or simple miscommunication, I think it’s an interesting story.
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