A little East of Paris: Don't bad-mouth Texas

Pizza that had been delivered was a rare treat in Diane Nance's household. Michael and Diane’s 12 year-old daughter Savanna needed no encouragement to join Diane and Jana for dinner.

The children were on their best behavior with “Yes, please ma’am” and “No thank-you ma’am” and careful use of the paper napkins that were supplied.

They were surprised when Mama agreed to “a splash” from the bottle of Pink Moscato that Jana pulled from the refrigerator. Michael watched carefully and saw his mama only poured about ½ inch into her Dixie cup.

Diane only wet her lips with the wine. It was what gracious guests would do.

Diane couldn’t help but notice that Jana worked her way through a third of the bottle in the time they were waiting for the pizza to arrive from big town to their west. It seemed to affect her out of proportion to the amount she had consumed, perhaps it was the empty stomach, maybe it was because she was recovering from a head injury, or maybe it was because Jana seldom drank.

After a minute of consideration, Diane decided that it was because Jana didn't have a lot of practice drinking. Jana was clearly much-more-at-ease when Gwain was around and she had been counting on him being home for the evening and was stress-drinkin'.

Michael was reaching for his third piece of pizza when he heard Jana exclaim “I don’t know why there are any Black people left in Texas!” 

Michael held his breath and glanced toward his mother through the sides of his eyes.

Diane simply asked “Why would you say something like that?”

“I read a lot of magazines and newspapers, and Texas has to be the most racist state in the Union. I don’t know why all you Black people and Mexicans don’t just pick up and move to other states!” Jana reiterated.

“What exactly do those magazines say?” Diane asked, her voice carefully neutral.

“Seems like every issue has a story about a black girl being thrown into jail and then being beaten to death, probably by the deputies. Sometimes it is a story about a Hispanic girl not being able to get an abortion and dying due to sepsis. If it isn’t Texas then it is Florida...but usually it is Texas.” Jana told Diane and her two, very-wide-eyed children.

“None of the magazines I seen recently had any stories like that. What magazines are you reading?” Diane wanted to know.

“You know, all of the authoritative ones that smart people read: The Atlantic, The New Yorker, the Smithsonian, the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, The Philadelphia Inquirer, Wilmington News Journal…”

“I recognize most of those names except for that Wilmington one. Aren’t they all on the East Coast?” Diane asked.

“As a matter of fact, they are” Jana admitted, wondering why that mattered. “That is where all of the smart magazines are printed.”

“I’m sure I never told you about my Aunt Edna” Diane dissembled.

“I believe you are right, since I don’t recall that name” Jana said.

“Somehow, that lady always sits next to me at family reunions” Diane continued. “And she talks about her neighbors and how they don’t pick up what their dogs put down. And she talks about them lightin’ fire-crackers at one in the morning and trashin' up their yards with cars that are broke-down. She talks about them fight’n and drinkin' and cussin'. Youl’d think she was living in a trailer park the way she goes on about all the drama happen’n on her block.”

“The one thing she don’t talk about is Reginald” Diane said with finality.

“Who is Reginald?” Jana asked, hooked by the story.

“Reginald is her no-good son. He lives in her garage when he ain’t in jail” Diane said.

Michael decided this was a good time to grab a couple of more slices of pizza. This was getting interesting.

“Jail?” Jana squeaked.

“Yes-ma’am. If it ain’t for one thing its fo another. But the only way we can keep track of where Reginald is livin’ is to look up the court records on-line, ‘cause Aunt Edna sure ain't tellin' nobody” Diane said with finality.

“But you can’t be implying that those magazines are LYING, can you?” Jana exclaimed, aghast.

“Do they count on advertising dollars?” Diane asked. “Do they count on people in New York buying them magazines and reading about how perfect they are? You tell me, if the things them magazines say is happen’n in Texas all the time is happened in them Eastern cities, and them magazines reported on it...would that cost them money? That’s all I’m saying.”

Savanna had to admire her mama. There she was just as cool an' as smooth an' as sweet as anything when Savanna knew for a fact that Mama was hot for somebody daring to bad-mouth Texas.

After chewing on her mouthful of pizza for a minute, Jana swallowed and said “No, I don’t think that's it.”

“How do you figger?” Diane asked.

“Maybe the big magazines and papers, but I grew up in Delaware I and know they wouldn’t do that” Jana said.

“You mean they wouldn’t leave out stories about the State Police hitting Black boys with their batons and all that?” Diane asked.

“That's exactly what I am saying. There are almost NEVER stories like that in the Wilmington paper” Jana said, certain that she had made her point.

“Do you know how BIG Texas is?” Diane asked.

“Yes, I know it is the second largest state” Jana said.

“That is a fact but that ain’t the same as “knowing” “ Diane said.

“How many Black people do you figure live in Delaware?” Diane asked.

“I don’t really know, but I can make a guess. I figure there are at least five million people in Delaware and maybe 20% of them are Black. So that would be a million Black people.” Jana estimated as she reached for the wine bottle to “freshen-up” her Dixie cup.

“How many Black people do you figure live in Texas?” Diane asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe 100,000?” Jana said, a little less sure of herself.

“How hard would it be to find that out on your phone?” Diane asked.

“Is it important?” Jana asked.

“It might be” Diane said.

Jana let out a whistle when she popped open the page on Wikipedia. “There are less than a million people living in Delaware!” she exclaimed. “I was sure there were a lot more than that.”

“How many of them are Black?” Diane asked.

“Wait a minute….230,000 are Black” Jana informed her.

“Now look up Texas” Diane asked her.

“Oh my goodness...there are thirty-two million people living in Texas” Jana exclaimed.

“How many of them are Black?” Diane asked.

“Hmmm…. It says three-point-eight million Black people live in Texas” Jana said.

“How many times bigger is that than the number of Blacks living in Delaware?” Diane asked.

“I don’t know, but I see your point” Jana conceded. There are almost four times more Black people living in Texas as there is of everybody in Delaware.

While walking home, Michael said “Mama, I don’t remember ever meeting Aunt Edna.”

“There’s a reason for that” Diane said. “She don’t exist. But I ain’t gonna be airing dirty laundry in front of non-family. That ain’t what I do.”

Savanna nodded her head as she walked along with her family. Every family she knew had at least one “Aunt Edna” and “Reginald”, the names weren't the important thing. It was the ideas.

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