Shame was a language I learned early, right along with how to say “please” and “thank you.” There was an unspoken etiquette we learned growing up in the Deep South. The tea should be sweet, the chicken fried. And you should address people older than you as “ma’am” and “sir.” I knew the taste of collard greens and banana pudding, and the proper use of the phrase, “bless her heart”, to camouflage your disdain for someone. We were known for our hospitality and kindness. We wer
