Let the Harvest Begin at Home: Breaking Bread with BRIC

By LaDawn Sullivan

I have made a decision about October—and I’m carrying it through Thanksgiving. Before anybody gets nervous, I am not giving up good food. Some sacrifices are simply unreasonable.

But I am making a commitment.

Through Thanksgiving, I will not spend my dining dollars at restaurants or eateries that are not Black-owned. When I eat out, I’ll intentionally support Black-owned establishments. And at home, I’m returning to something I have always loved: cooking. Not just to feed my body, but to nourish my soul and reclaim the power of gathering around my own dining room table.

And on Sundays? Well, beloved, the table is about to become a whole movement.

I’m calling it Breaking Bread with BRIC.

I’ll open my home, prepare a meal, and invite family and friends to eat, laugh, think, challenge, and dream about building Black communities, Black power, and Black people.

And trust me, the food will not be an afterthought.

I love soul food—the collard greens, smothered chicken, homemade potato salad, peach cobbler, and lemon pound cake that connect me to memories, family, and tradition. I also love my Creole delight, and plenty of dishes that have absolutely nothing to do with what somebody thinks Black folks are “supposed” to eat. Black people have never been a monolith, and neither are our menus.

Some Sundays may taste like tradition. Others may taste like whatever I saw, craved, experimented with, or decided I could pull off in my kitchen that week.

No registration link. No conference badge. No PowerPoint. Just good food, good people, honest conversation, and the possibility of something powerful being born somewhere between the first bite and dessert.

I’ve spent much of my life asking where resources go, who controls them, and whose communities benefit. We talk about economic empowerment, wealth building, and community ownership. We study disparities, commission reports, convene experts, and produce enough recommendations to wallpaper a small house.

But sometimes meaningful investment begins with a simple question: Where did my money go today?

Our dollars have power. But so does our participation.

Building Black communities means investing in Black businesses and organizations. It means showing up, volunteering, mentoring, giving, learning what is happening around us, speaking up when it matters, and voting—taking the time to understand the candidates, issues, and ballot measures that can shape our communities and futures.

Black power isn’t just something we talk about. It is something we practice.

That feels especially important as November approaches, with elections and ballot measures filling headlines, social media feeds, and family group chats. Everybody has an opinion, somebody has a conspiracy theory, and somebody else has threatened to leave the group chat. Again.

Maybe our tables can help turn down the noise. Not to tell anybody how to vote, but to ask better questions, share what we know, learn what we don’t, and make informed decisions for ourselves.

There is something sacred about a dining room table. Growing up, it was where stories were shared, lessons were taught, wisdom traveled between generations, and sometimes somebody got corrected without ever hearing their full government name.

You knew the look…That’s the tradition I want to reclaim.

Building strong Black communities, BRIC by BRIC, has never been just a catchy phrase to me. It is about relationships, trust, investment, participation, collective responsibility, and recognizing that our greatest resource has always been one another.

So invite family. Call friends. Pull up another chair.

Because whether it is on the plate or in the conversation, we need food for the mind and soul.

I want us leaving the table satisfied, yes. Maybe even loosening a waistband. But I also want us leaving informed, connected, and ready to do something.

The harvest might be a new relationship, a Black business we commit to supporting, an organization we invest in, a ballot we take the time to understand, a neighbor we engage, or simply the decision to participate more fully in the life of our community.

Black liberation, prosperity, and community power aren’t built solely in boardrooms, legislative chambers, or foundation offices. Sometimes they begin over Sunday dinner.

So, I’m putting on my apron, pulling out my favorite recipes, and making room at the table.

Because before we can harvest what we hope to build in the world, we must be willing to plant, nurture, invest in, participate in, and feed it at home.

Let the harvest begin…And come hungry. I’m talking about more than the food.

That last line feels stronger to me than the sweet-tea ending now because it brings the whole metaphor home: we're gathering with an appetite for the meal, the knowledge, the connection, and the work.

From Now Through Thanksgiving

Bring BRIC’s mission to your table: building strong Black communities, BRIC by BRIC.

1. Gather. Invite family, friends, neighbors, and community. Cook what you love—or support a Black-owned restaurant.

2. Break bread. Share good food and real conversation about Black community, opportunity, power, and what’s happening around us.

3. Bring the 5Ts to the table. Explore how we can invest our Time, Talent, Treasure, Testimony, and (social) Ties to strengthen Black communities.

4. Vote. Get informed about the candidates, issues and ballot measures. Make a plan—and make sure everyone at the table votes.

5. Leave with action. Each person commits to one more way to show up: support a Black business, give, volunteer, connect, advocate, participate or learn.

Food for the body. Knowledge for the mind. Connection for the soul. Action for our community.

Pull up a chair. Break bread. Build BRIC.