A Tradition We Repeat Without Question
Every year, like clockwork, we line our plates with black-eyed peas, greens, and pork and tell ourselves it’s for luck, money, and wisdom. We say it confidently, as if its ancient Black tradition handed down with intention and power. But confidence doesn’t make something true. What’s uncomfortable is that this story wasn’t created by us, and it wasn’t created for us. Black people didn’t invent this meal as a prosperity ritual. We were already eating these foods because we had to. Survival food is not the same thing as symbolic food and confusing the two erases history instead of honoring it.
What Black People Were Actually Doing
Enslaved Black people and later newly freed Black people ate black-eyed peas, greens, and pork scraps because that’s what was available. These foods were cheap, hardy, and often what was left over after better cuts and better options were taken. Greens grew easily. Peas stored well. Pork scraps were all we were allowed access to. There was no ceremony attached to this. No symbolism. No “manifesting wealth.” This was about staying alive in a system designed to starve you. Turning that reality into a luck ritual after the fact is a distortion, not a legacy.
What Happened After the Civil War
When the Civil War ended, Union soldiers moved through the devastated South and noticed something important. Poor white Southerners were eating the exact same foods enslaved Black people had been forced to eat for generations. The war had destroyed infrastructure, farmland, and wealth. Food was scarce. Black-eyed peas, greens, and pork scraps were cheap, filling, and accessible. That’s why they were eaten. Not because they symbolized anything, but because there were few alternatives. Poverty created the menu, not prosperity.
How Poverty Got Rebranded as Meaning
This is where the story shifts. Southern white communities, reeling from defeat and loss, began rewriting the narrative around these foods. What had been markers of scarcity were reframed as symbols. Black-eyed peas became “coins.” Greens became “money.” Pork became “progress.” This reframing was psychological survival, not spiritual truth. It helped people cope with losing the war, losing status, and losing economic dominance. Symbolism made poverty easier to swallow. But that symbolism was never created with Black people in mind. It was a white Southern coping mechanism, born out of loss.
How It Got Absorbed Into Black Culture
Over time, that story drifted. As Black people migrated, integrated regional customs, and inherited Southern traditions, the symbolism followed the food. Eventually, it got rebranded as a Black prosperity tradition. But rebranding doesn’t change origin. We absorbed a narrative that was never meant to serve us, attached it to food we were forced to eat, and called it luck. That’s not empowerment. That’s misattribution. And when you repeat rituals disconnected from your actual history, you shouldn’t be surprised when they don’t produce what they promise.
Why This Matters More Than People Think
Traditions aren’t neutral. They carry intention, memory, and meaning. When you celebrate something that wasn’t created for your liberation, you may be reinforcing a story that doesn’t align with your reality. Black people didn’t eat these foods to invite abundance. We ate them to survive deprivation. Turning survival into superstition without context blurs the truth. It also distracts from the real sources of Black resilience, strategy, faith, and collective intelligence that actually sustained us.
Who the Tradition Actually Belongs To
If anyone should be “manifesting luck” with black-eyed peas, greens, and pork, it’s the descendants of Southern whites who created the symbolism to cope with post-war poverty. That ritual belongs to them. Not us. Black people already had systems of meaning, spirituality, and survival that didn’t rely on romanticizing deprivation. When we adopt traditions without interrogating them, we risk honoring struggle instead of transcending it.
Summary
Black-eyed peas, greens, and pork were survival foods for Black people, not prosperity rituals. The symbolism attached to them was created by Southern white communities after the Civil War to cope with loss and poverty. Over time, that narrative was absorbed into Black culture and misrepresented as our tradition. This ritual has no historical connection to Black luck, wealth, or wisdom. Understanding that distinction matters because traditions shape mindset and identity.
Conclusion
There’s nothing wrong with enjoying the food. Culture evolves, and taste carries memory. But let’s stop confusing survival with symbolism and poverty with purpose. Black people don’t need borrowed rituals to claim abundance. Our history is deeper, sharper, and far more intentional than that. Knowing where a tradition comes from doesn’t make you foolish; repeating it without knowing does. And the truth is, real prosperity starts with clarity, not superstition.