While the current state of affairs has us practicing social distancing and quarantining in the midst of the holiest week of the year, I began to stare out of the window and reminisce about my favorite holiday as a child growing up in Waugh, Alabama -- a small area just outside of the city limits of Montgomery. Also known as the country.

As I sit here and tap on these keys today, let me be clear -- no other place on this Earth holds a candle to how we celebrate Easter in the South. 

For me, Easter was the ultimate holiday. 

From getting my press and curl at the beauty salon or at home while holding my ear and flinching at the hot comb, to receiving the biggest Easter basket I could find, Easter was always the highlight of the year.

Besides seeing some folks that I hadn’t seen all year walk up in the church, these are some of my favorite memories of Easter in Alabama: 

The Symbol Of Dignity For Black Women: The Church Hat

The church hat’s significance is two-fold -- spiritual and cultural. Its roots are traced back to Africa but the custom lives on throughout women all over the bible belt of the South. 

From first ladies to deaconesses to regular church goers, the church hat is a staple among black southern women. 

I didn’t realize its importance while accompanying my grandma to The Hob Nob boutique near Alabama State University to find a hat to match her suit. 

The Hob Nob had the baddest hats in the city for women. The hats were so sharp they cut just like a knife. The boutique was always crowded with women who were looking for the perfect hat for them.

I loved to help my grandma find a hat. Most times she’d kindly smile at my recommendations, but there were a few occasions where she’d put the hats to the side to see how they’d look on her. After trying on a few, whichever one spoke to her spirit is the one she chose.

As a little girl, I thought wearing a hat was just something to do. But as an adult, I understand that it’s so much more. 

So, if you’re gonna adorn your crown with a hat on Easter Sunday or any other Sunday for that matter, always keep in mind -- ain’t no half steppin’. 

I remember sitting in the pew of either my home church or my grandfather’s church (Baptist, of course) and watching the ladies sit modestly with their flamboyant hats on.

It didn’t matter what type of hat it was and it didn’t matter what someone had to say about it. These ladies completely owned it. 

Now, some hats had rhinestones and flowers and some hats didn’t. And in a way, I admired them all. 

Sometimes the hats were so grande that they blocked my view of the choir, but it didn’t bother me none. As a kid, I would always say, “When I grow up, I’m gonna wear a hat just like my grandma and those ladies.” 

And I did.

I’ve been wearing hats throughout my life since I wore my first church hat at the age of 9 on that gorgeous Easter Sunday, sashaying in my Sunday best!

The church hat gives southern women the freedom to express themselves. It is a direct representation of dignity, boldness, and fortitude. 

So, remember ladies, the church hat is not just an accessory. It’s a way of life. 

The Poofy Dress and Ruffled Socks

The early ‘80s was a time where girls wore poofy dresses with the big fluffy collar.  

Our dresses back then always had some sort of enormous bow, long flowing ribbon, or flower attached to them. Oh yeah, they were always pastel and bright. 

You wouldn't find me without a a shawl with my Easter dress, and couldn’t wait to put on those thick, ruffled socks that came in different hues. Every now and then, you might see me wear gloves.  

But you know what we wouldn’t be caught doing in the South? 

Wearing a white shoe before Easter.

This religious holiday gave us permission to wear white shoes, you hear? 

The Easter Speech

Oh, there’s the Easter speech. 

I spent many-a-days and hours of my childhood performing Easter speeches.  I would practice in the mirror. I’d practice in front of my family. 

Then, as if that wasn’t enough, I had to practice in church with other children.

In the beginning, I would read from a paper. As the years passed and I got older, the paper turned into a note card. Then one day, I didn’t need cues anymore. The paper I would hold in my shaky hand eventually disappeared.

The moment I memorized the speech and repeated it at home was one achievement. Standing in front of the whole congregation from the pastor to the officers, members, and friends to recite the speech was another. 

For some reason, I was always nervous as I took the floor and held the mic, even after the constant rehearsing and seeing my church friends and family in the audience. 

Am I holding it too close? Am I speaking loud enough? Did I slow down so people could understand? 

Once I belted out the entire speech off the top of my head, I praised Jesus on the inside while everyone clapped for me on the outside. 

Hearing The Same Sermon Each Year

If you don’t know the Resurrection of Jesus by now, shame on you.  In short, He was laid in a borrowed tomb. He was there for three days and He rose from the dead.  

You know the scripture in Matthew, He is not here, for He has risen. 

I’ve heard the same sermon and story from multiple preachers every year and each time it restores my faith and the faith of many others. 

And what about the songs and hymns, which are embedded in our lives today?

He Arose.

Because He lives.

The Old Rugged Cross.

The list goes on and on. 

The Egg Hunt, Food, and Fellowship

As a child, I remember getting that famous PAAS egg dyeing kit to decorate eggs. 

Dyeing eggs was my favorite thing to do, and I was really good at it too. I loved using the clear crayon to scribble a message on the eggs.  

After a while though, my little hands would get tired from carefully choosing colors and making several dozens of eggs look pretty.

Come Easter Sunday, everyone I knew would take their yellow, blue, and purple eggs in a carton to church and leave them in the foyer.

After service, all of the children would knock down the doors of the church to fill up our baskets with eggs to the brim. 

After church, my family would gather at my great-grandma’s house and have an egg hunt. Great-grandma’s house was always tons of fun.

It was fun because we spent quality time with each other as a family, but also because great-grandma’s house had one thing we all wanted to take home — the golden egg. 

The golden egg had money in it. And it was the hardest egg to find. Egg hunts would go on for hours and grown folks would try to get in on the hunt too. 

As far as food, I remember getting sick from eating the cake batter from a homemade red velvet cake, German chocolate cake or pound cake that my grandma made.  

And I remember eating so much that my belly was about to pop from Easter supper. Some of the foods included honey baked ham (which I can’t stand to eat anymore), macaroni and cheese, collard greens, yams, dressing, pot roast, corn bread, and sweet tea -- oooh weee! 

And then there’s the candy. Enough said, right? But when Reese’s came out with the Reese’s Egg, Lord have mercy! At almost 39 years old, I still eat them to this day. And I will happily send a picture to my friends and family each year when I’ve purchased my first pack.

I noticed that some of these memories are being passed down to the next generation in my family.  Especially the golden egg. Last time I was home for Easter, there were at least 3 golden eggs, with enough money stuffed in them to pay a bill. 

Are there any differences between now and then? Of course. 

Depending on who you ask, ain’t nobody stuttin’ the folks who wear white shoes before Easter. People now wear whatever color shoe they please.  

What are some of your favorite memories of Easter as a Black Southerner?

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