Kathleen E. Fellers ~ Inspiration behind I’m Telling Who’s Melanin

Meet my mother, Kathleen E. Fellers. Born in Bainbridge, Georgia, to two dedicated educators, Lemuel and Lorraine Edwards, Kathleen was destined for greatness. Growing up on a farm, it’s no surprise that she developed a passion for food. I can only imagine what her childhood was like, but for me, visiting my grandparents meant food for days! Just look at the pictures on the previous page— I was always HUSKY because my grandparents and mom made sure I didn’t miss a meal.

From the stories she shared, it was clear she always knew she wanted to pursue culinary arts, dreaming of running a kitchen and being the head chef. With a dual degree in Hospitality and Food Nutrition from Tuskegee University in Alabama, she was well on her way to accomplishing her dreams. But then life happened. Marriage and starting a family meant her desire to become a chef was put on hold.

However, her passion for culinary arts never dimmed. She cooked for family gatherings, reunions, church functions, and a host of other events. My sister and I were her taste testers for everything she made. My favorite part? Desserts! I adored licking the cake mix off the whisks from the mixer.

And let’s not forget her love for KitchenAid products—KitchenAid, are you reading this?

As the years went by, my mom worked in various jobs, tirelessly trying to land her dream job. The one I remember most was her role as a disciplinary officer at the Job Corps Center. Before I understood Job Corps, I thought it was a place for “bad kids.” Students would line up in her office for discipline, and they would be scared out of their minds. If you couldn’t guess, my mother didn’t take any nonsense!

During those years, she faced discouragement. She felt her dreams slipping away until she had a bright idea: opening a sandwich shop! Let me tell you, my mom could make a sandwich like nobody’s business! My teachers would ask if they could have my lunch, and I’d end up with cafeteria food instead. Her sandwiches were a work of art, cut into stars, triangles, and all sorts of geometrical shapes. Maybe that’s where I got my love for math!

As life began to look up for her, especially with my sister heading to college and me graduating high school, she shared her plans for the sandwich shop with me. Life was great until, after a routine mammogram, doctors found something concerning. Just when you think you’re on the right path, life throws a curveball. My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer.

After seeking second and third opinions, she bravely opted for a double mastectomy. I was in denial, struggling with confusion and sadness. I wanted my cheerful, sandwich-making mom back. But she explained her journey through this illness, and I realized the depth of her struggle. It changed my perspective, fostering compassion for her and others who silently fight their battles.

Years went by, and thankfully, the cancer was gone. Returning to work, she was offered the opportunity to be the head chef and coach for the culinary competition team. Talk about a comeback! She was ecstatic and immersed herself in her dreams.

This was around 1997, and she thrived, traveling the country with her students and competing in culinary competitions. The best part? She’d bring home various kitchen appliances (yes KitchenAid) and utensils, so when I moved out, my kitchen was fully stocked thanks to her!

But then, in 2005, cancer struck again—this time, it was worse. I remember asking about the sandwich shop, and seeing her eyes well up with tears as she whispered, “Not in this lifetime,” shattered my heart. The doctors confirmed the grim reality; they could only slow it down, not stop it. They offered clincal trials but that meant not knowing if it would actually work or not. My mom, ever the fighter, said, “Let’s get this clinical SHIT going so we can get the hell outta here!”

She fought valiantly for nine long years, losing her battle on March 16, 2014, just three days before her birthday. March has become one of the most challenging months for me, especially since my father passed away on March 14, 2020. But those years with my mom, from 2005 to 2013, were filled with memorable moments. After her doctor appointments, I would always tell her to pick a place for lunch, and our epic dates were filled with laughter and culinary wisdom.

She imparted her love for food, teaching me sweet versus sour, tart versus tangy, and a host of other combinations to trick the palate. She encouraged me to experiment and never shy away from honest feedback. I became a food sponge, soaking up everything she shared. Our bond deepened, and I felt guilty for my sister, who often found herself on the sidelines of our culinary adventures.

This was also my introduction to the world of Costco and Whole Foods, and it's been a game changer! Costco was my mother’s kryptonite. When she went shopping, SHE REALLY WENT SHOPPING! I mean, we’re talking about four figures worth of groceries! It baffled me because it was just her and my dad at home. But now, I completely understand why we had two deep freezers and an extra refrigerator in our basement. She was always prepared!

One of my fondest memories is when she took me to Whole Foods to get two Ribeye steaks cut into the shape of a heart. That experience was special—it wasn’t just about the steak; it was about the love and care she put into our meals. Since then, the Ribeye has become my favorite cut of meat! These memories remind me of the joy of food and the special moments I shared with my mom.

During our time together, I felt like I could make her forget the weight of her illness, even if just for a little while. Those brief moments filled with smiles and laughter were everything to me.

Losing my mom felt like losing a piece of myself. This periodical is dedicated to her, a woman with a dream of opening a sandwich shop who never got the chance but never lost her drive. It’s also a tribute to anyone out there with dreams of entrepreneurship—don’t let fear or life’s challenges hold you back.

Keep fighting and have faith. It’s what my mom would have done!

Good luck to you all!