The world knew her as "Aunt Jemima," but her given name was Nancy Green and she was a true American success story. Born a slave in 1834 Montgomery County, KY, she became a wealthy superstar in the advertising world, as its first living trademark. While in Kentucky, Green was employed by Charles Walker, then an attorney and later a distinguished Circuit Judge. She moved with the family to Chicago just after the Great Fire in 1872. Walker heard that a friend was looking for a model for the Aunt Jemima character, and he suggested Green who, by that time, had served the family for many years. She was instantly recognized with the characteristics the guy was looking for... charisma, humor, and a fantastic cook. Green was 56-yrs old when she was selected as spokesperson for the new ready-mixed, self-rising pancake flour and made her public debut in 1893 at the World’s Fair in Chicago. She demonstrated the pancake mix while serving up thousands of pancakes... and became an immediate star. She was a wonderful storyteller, her personality was warm and appealing, and her showmanship was exceptional. Her exhibition booth drew so many people that special security personnel were assigned to keep the crowds moving. Nancy Green was signed to a lifetime contract, traveled on promotional tours all over the country, and was extremely well paid. Her financial freedom and stature as a national spokesperson enabled her to become a philanthropist, a leading advocate against poverty, and a fighter for equal rights. She maintained her job until her death in 1923, at age 89, after becoming one of America’s first black millionaires. This was a remarkable woman... and she has just been ERASED by politically correct liberal bedwetters.
Aunt Jemima, Uncle Ben and the 'flesh'-colored crayon Opinion by Elliot Williams Updated 6:19 PM ET, Thu June 18, 2020 Aunt Jemima, one of the longest-running trademarks in the history of advertising, flows in part from a minstrel song -- a genre whites used for generations to make black people appear dim-witted, lazy, or happy-go-lucky. The Aunt Jemima I grew up seeing -- overweight, grinning, wearing a head-scarf -- was first animated by Nancy Green, whom the Aunt Jemima website describes as a "storyteller, cook, and missionary worker," conveniently leaving off the fact that she was born into slavery and that the very character is a "mammy" stereotype of black slave women. Some commentators have twisted themselves into knots trying to suggest that Ms. Green's role as one of the first African American models hired to promote a major brand suggests that the story is nuanced in some way. It's not. The fact that Ms. Green could ultimately provide for herself by playing into a white fantasy about how black women ought to look, sound, and behave is less a testament to her own rise as an entrepreneur than it is to how few options for success were available to black people for most of this country's history. Of course, we should honor her success. But Rosa Parks is not. Uncle Ben's isn't much better for a big reason: He carries the name "Uncle" because black men were commonly referred to as "boy" or "uncle" to avoid extending them the dignity of being referred to as "Mister." The tragedy around these products is that executives have known for years that the images were problematic. Quaker Oats is reported to have been reluctant over the years to heavily market Aunt Jemima, believing it "wasn't worth the blowback," according to Scott Buckley, who in the 1980s and 1990s, worked on advertising projects for Quaker Oats. The most obvious sign that they had egger, syrup -- on their faces is the fact that the characters have gotten makeovers over the years, with Aunt Jemima being emancipated from her bandana, and Uncle Ben's stylistic evolution from "house negro" to "buppie." Still, as long as the companies remained successful, and no pesky activists made too big a fuss, they seemed willing to keep the logos. If slapping pearl earrings and a Clair Huxtable blowout on a dehumanizing slave image kept stock prices from tanking, then so be it. The conservative news site The Blaze referred to the updates as a "social justice makeover," suggesting that the decision to update the brands reflects a cave to social pressure. I would posit that it's not a cave, and actually a reset to the way things should have been all along. There are probably many people for whom one of the only regular images of a black person they saw growing up was of the slave on their pancake syrup. Ask yourself -- for any child, white or black -- was this a good thing? How we see people affects, well, how we see people. Put another way, if you are a manufacturer and there are entire exhibits at the Jim Crow Museum of Racist Memorabilia devoted to the kinds of images you have used on your products for generations, maybe it's time to rethink your approach. And listen to the black people in the room. Or, for starters, hire one. To be clear, the retired images aren't that offensive on their face and I, like many other black people, do not go to bed at night distraught by the indignity of pancake syrup. Many of us tend to focus more on, say, not getting shot by police. But that's not the point. However, a slave on syrup here, crayons that erase the existence of most people on the planet there, and after a few decades, you begin to get a nagging suspicion that your humanity just matters ever so slightly less to white people. So, goodbye, Aunt Jemima. You and America had a good run. Besides, I always preferred real maple syrup, anyway.
This video is the shit. Just letting myself know...
The world knew her as "Aunt Jemima," but her given name was Nancy
Green and she was a true American success story. Born a slave in 1834
Montgomery County, KY, she became a wealthy superstar in the
advertising world, as its first living trademark.
While in Kentucky, Green was employed by Charles Walker, then an
attorney and later a distinguished Circuit Judge. She moved with the
family to Chicago just after the Great Fire in 1872.
Walker heard that a friend was looking for a model for the Aunt Jemima
character, and he suggested Green who, by that time, had served the
family for many years. She was instantly recognized with the
characteristics the guy was looking for... charisma, humor, and a
fantastic cook.
Green was 56-yrs old when she was selected as spokesperson for the new
ready-mixed, self-rising pancake flour and made her public debut in
1893 at the World’s Fair in Chicago. She demonstrated the pancake mix
while serving up thousands of pancakes... and became an immediate
star. She was a wonderful storyteller, her personality was warm and
appealing, and her showmanship was exceptional. Her exhibition booth
drew so many people that special security personnel were assigned to
keep the crowds moving.
Nancy Green was signed to a lifetime contract, traveled on promotional
tours all over the country, and was extremely well paid. Her
financial freedom and stature as a national spokesperson enabled her
to become a philanthropist, a leading advocate against poverty, and a
fighter for equal rights.
She maintained her job until her death in 1923, at age 89, after
becoming one of America’s first black millionaires.
This was a remarkable woman... and she has just been ERASED by
politically correct liberal bedwetters.
sooo good!!
Aunt Jemima, Uncle Ben and the 'flesh'-colored crayon
Opinion by Elliot Williams
Updated 6:19 PM ET, Thu June 18, 2020
Aunt Jemima, one of the longest-running trademarks in the history of advertising, flows in part from a minstrel song -- a genre whites used for generations to make black people appear dim-witted, lazy, or happy-go-lucky.
The Aunt Jemima I grew up seeing -- overweight, grinning, wearing a head-scarf -- was first animated by Nancy Green, whom the Aunt Jemima website describes as a "storyteller, cook, and missionary worker," conveniently leaving off the fact that she was born into slavery and that the very character is a "mammy" stereotype of black slave women.
Some commentators have twisted themselves into knots trying to suggest that Ms. Green's role as one of the first African American models hired to promote a major brand suggests that the story is nuanced in some way. It's not.
The fact that Ms. Green could ultimately provide for herself by playing into a white fantasy about how black women ought to look, sound, and behave is less a testament to her own rise as an entrepreneur than it is to how few options for success were available to black people for most of this country's history. Of course, we should honor her success. But Rosa Parks is not.
Uncle Ben's isn't much better for a big reason: He carries the name "Uncle" because black men were commonly referred to as "boy" or "uncle" to avoid extending them the dignity of being referred to as "Mister."
The tragedy around these products is that executives have known for years that the images were problematic. Quaker Oats is reported to have been reluctant over the years to heavily market Aunt Jemima, believing it "wasn't worth the blowback," according to Scott Buckley, who in the 1980s and 1990s, worked on advertising projects for Quaker Oats.
The most obvious sign that they had egger, syrup -- on their faces is the fact that the characters have gotten makeovers over the years, with Aunt Jemima being emancipated from her bandana, and Uncle Ben's stylistic evolution from "house negro" to "buppie."
Still, as long as the companies remained successful, and no pesky activists made too big a fuss, they seemed willing to keep the logos. If slapping pearl earrings and a Clair Huxtable blowout on a dehumanizing slave image kept stock prices from tanking, then so be it.
The conservative news site The Blaze referred to the updates as a "social justice makeover," suggesting that the decision to update the brands reflects a cave to social pressure. I would posit that it's not a cave, and actually a reset to the way things should have been all along. There are probably many people for whom one of the only regular images of a black person they saw growing up was of the slave on their pancake syrup. Ask yourself -- for any child, white or black -- was this a good thing? How we see people affects, well, how we see people.
Put another way, if you are a manufacturer and there are entire exhibits at the Jim Crow Museum of Racist Memorabilia devoted to the kinds of images you have used on your products for generations, maybe it's time to rethink your approach. And listen to the black people in the room. Or, for starters, hire one.
To be clear, the retired images aren't that offensive on their face and I, like many other black people, do not go to bed at night distraught by the indignity of pancake syrup. Many of us tend to focus more on, say, not getting shot by police. But that's not the point.
However, a slave on syrup here, crayons that erase the existence of most people on the planet there, and after a few decades, you begin to get a nagging suspicion that your humanity just matters ever so slightly less to white people.
So, goodbye, Aunt Jemima. You and America had a good run. Besides, I always preferred real maple syrup, anyway.
LOL
haha thanks for my first comment Dan
@@ZackParis if you ain't first, you last! and if you last, you don't get aunt jemima on the eggos! leggo my eggo!