Hey There.

My name is Danielle N. Salmon and that’s me in the picture just below these words. You may know me because you know me, or you may know me from following this blog. If you don’t fall into the category of either of the the two then this may come as a surprise, but I’m black. Jamaican-American to be exact. Why do I say that? Because, for some reason I’ve encountered my share of people, restaurant owners/staff or food influencers, who are bothered by that. Furthermore, within this “foodie industry”, the aforementioned people feel the need to point out my race, ethnicity, and skin color to others and to myself as if I’m unaware.

“Wait a minute, *looks in the mirror*, I’m black? How long has this been going on? THIRTY YEARS?!?!”

Funny thing, I already know I’m black. I don’t need you to remind me nor do I need you to make a comment about it.

I never wanted it to come to this, but I have to say this on my blog because this has happened on more than one occasion. In restaurants, at prestigious food events, and even over the phone. I’ve had amazing people come to my rescue when I was struggling with ignorant people. I’ll never forget Chelsea McKinney of Powerhouse PR who stepped in to alleviate a difficult situation I was in and couldn’t manage to get out of.  As the frequency of these comments have increased, I think something needs to be said here so it can be made available at any point and time. With that I thought it would be best if I made a public service announcement to make things very transparent.

My name is Danielle N. Salmon and I’m black, Jamaican-American to be exact. I love that about me. Aside from my personality, and using my mouth to eat food, my heritage is my favorite quality about myself. Below I’ve even included a gallery with images of myself and my blackness. If you don’t like any of that, then this blog isn’t for you. However if you find yourself on the fence about my race then I have five things you shouldn’t do when it comes to my blog and myself:

1. Don’t read this blog,
2. Don’t invite me to your restaurant,
3. Don’t invite me to your food event (it sounds a lot like #2, but trust me it’s totally different)
4. Don’t invite me to join you to your breakfast/lunch/dinner/food tour, and/or
5. Don’t connect with me on some type of collaboration.

Basically don’t hit me up whatsoever, because I’m going to be black forever.

You may be wondering where this is coming from. It’s not out of left field.

As I touched in paragraphs above, in the past two years of restaurant blogging, I’ve experienced my share of ignorance and racism based on the fact that I’m one of very few black people doing this in Los Angeles. From people commenting that I’m dark skinned, people making black jokes around me, to people saying offensive words to me, I’ve had enough. I’ve tried to be professional since Follow My Gut is my business and I don’t want anything to effect that. I’ve gone the polite route, the “just laugh it off” route, and even the “educate them” route all to no avail. So allow this blog post to serve as the last straw. If I experience any type of ignorance and/or racism with you at your restaurant, I’m not going to be quiet. If I hear another food person say anything remotely derogatory about me or about someone else, I will no longer be polite, laugh it off, or try to educate you/that person. I won’t be violent, but please know you will hear me. Chances are, everyone will hear me. With that said, if I appear to fit any type of stereotype you have about women, black people, or both then so be it.

Let this post serve as a public service announcement that if you have a problem with my skin color, you can click the ‘x’ in the top right corner of this page, pretend like I don’t exist, and never connect with me. Ever.

I won’t mind. In fact, I encourage it.

Sincerely,

Management.