The Things Black Elders Did That We Swore We’d Never Do — Until We Did
A look at the habits, sayings, and rituals we once rolled our eyes at — and now find ourselves repeating with pride.
By ~ronnie
“We used to laugh at their ways — now we live by them.”
The Things We Used to Laugh At
We cousins would laugh until our sides hurt about the plastic on our grandmother’s couch. Back then, we would’ve rather sat on the floor than deal with that plastic sticking to our legs in the summertime. And who could forget the cabinets filled with everything except actual Tupperware? In the refrigerator, last night’s leftovers were always tucked inside a Country Crock tub, fooling us every single time. None of it made sense to us as kids, but it gave us plenty to laugh about behind the adults’ backs. Our elders had their ways, and they didn’t offer explanations. The reasons revealed themselves later, once we grew up and had kids of our own. Some lessons came through lectures, but most came from watching — and there was always something to learn from the people who raised us.
The Wisdom Behind the Habits
From reusing Country Crock containers to putting plastic on the living room furniture, our elders’ habits were survival strategies. These weren’t random quirks; they were lessons passed down from watching their own elders make do with what little they had. No one explained it to them either — the times explained it for them. Because of the conditions African Americans were forced to endure, thrift wasn’t optional. It was how you made sure there was something left for tomorrow. They couldn’t afford Tupperware, but the leftovers still had to be saved. And when they finally bought new furniture, protecting it with plastic was the only way to make it last for years. Our elders knew how to stretch, preserve, and protect what they had. In the African American family, survival wasn’t just a skill — it was a legacy, and protecting what you owned was part of keeping that legacy alive.
The Sayings We Now Repeat
“Boy, I’ve told you to stop. A hard head makes a soft behind.” That was the final warning, and the next step was heading to the backyard to cut yourself a switch. And who could forget, “God don’t like ugly,” whenever you were overheard saying something mean? We rolled our eyes, giggled under our breath, and repeated the words without having the slightest idea what they truly meant. Then there was the classic: “If you lie, you’ll steal.” I remember thinking, I didn’t take anything from anybody — why am I being told this? But those sayings weren’t meant for the moment. They were meant for later. Integrity, malice, spite — all those big lessons clicked into place once we had children of our own. And when little Joachim told that first bold‑faced lie, what came out of our mouths? The same thing Big Mama said: “Boy, if you lie, you’ll steal.”
The Rituals We’ve Inherited
Community and family have always been the backbone of African American life, and that unity is a big part of why we’ve survived generations of inequality. There was nothing like Sunday dinner — the whole family gathered, laughing, joking, and passing around that magical bowl of greens and ham hocks. And those lazy Saturday afternoons on the front porch? That was where stories were told, wisdom was shared, and the heartbeat of the family was checked. “Baby, run down the street and check on Miss Rose — she hasn’t been feeling good lately.” There were no questions, no debates; we just went. That’s how we kept our communities strong. Without even realizing it, we still do the same today — gathering with family, checking on neighbors, carrying forward the rituals that kept us connected through hard times. These traditions weren’t just habits; they were our cultural blueprint for survival and strength.
What It Means to Carry Their Ways Forward
African Americans have endured constant struggles for generations, not only through our rituals but through the values behind those rituals. Our elders didn’t pass down habits just to be followed; they passed down a way of seeing the world, a way of surviving it, and a way of staying connected to one another. They protected us from the weight they carried and taught us how to move through life with dignity, thrift, and community at the center. Now, as adults with families of our own, we finally understand what they were trying to preserve. We see why they held on to certain ways, why they repeated certain sayings, and why they shielded us so fiercely. Carrying our elders’ ways forward isn’t just tradition — it’s honoring the people who made sure we had a solid foundation to stand on.
