Marv is the son of the neighborhood Candy Lady, learning both how to hustle and how to solve disputes in the community from his charismatic Mother who kept more than just her son safe via her connection to the community.
Marv is the son of the neighborhood Candy Lady, learning both how to hustle and how to solve disputes in the community from his charismatic Mother who kept more than just her son safe via her connection to the community.
https://wearememphis.com/play/culture/sweet-lady-an-ode-to-the-candy-lady/
(Upbeat guitar music with strong base)
Nichole Hill: Norview is a community just West of the Airport, and like most Black communities of a certain era, it was home to a Candy Lady. On paper, the role of the Candy Lady was to sell snacks to kids in the neighborhood. The reality is that this figure embodied a much bigger purpose.
Marv P: (laughs) Marvin Parker, I go by Marv P.
The prominent part of my childhood, it's like Campostella
So, grew up there, with my Grandma and my Moms. It was a tough situation growing up, um, lower class, but, I think the community was great, as in like, the resources and, as a family. I grew up in the 90s, I'm born in 93,
On like South Side It's like a lot of drug culture Especially in the 90s. It was everywhere.
So it's like addicts everywhere, dealers everywhere,Just like the amount of things that just was going on, and us as kids just super in the mix of it.
So it was kind of like you either shielded yourself or you was just exposed. It was impossible to not be exposed to everything. You know, because it was just all around you It's just your neighborhood, you know?
Nichole Hill: Marv moved from Campostella to Norview with his mom. This meant a new area, and new people. Even though he was in the same city--he felt culture shock. Luckily, there was one constant.
Marv P: My Mom Dukes is the toughest person. She had like a little gangster vibe, So when we moved out there, they tried to like get me in the gang and she wasn't having it. I didn't even know the lingo. So, you know, they speak with certain lingo.
So I went and asked her like, "what's this mean? They asked me that." And she went out there with a little house gown and was like, "Nah, we don't do that. You know what I'm saying? This us. We don't, we don't do that. Y'all don't come over here asking about it no more. Or y'all gone have some problems, cause that ain't what we doin." And in my head I was like, Oh my god, they gon kill me.
Like, these kids are gonna tear me up. But um, everybody kinda respected her after that. It was like, "Yo, mom, Dukes is crazy." And I was like, "Yeah, it's my Mama, man." But, um, she became the candy lady after that, cause everybody just loved her.
And she was like the Mother of the neighborhood. So, even the crazy guys, you know. Everybody just had love for my Mom Dukes. So it was almost like home base, for our neighborhood. 'Cause I grew up in Wellington Oaks in Norview. So for like our, well, like five streets this way, um, five streets that way, she was like Mama, and everybody knew her.
(Music with slow base)
But, um, so, um, but yeah, the Candy Lady. So in the neighborhood. Well, growing up in the 90s and early 2000s, I don't think it's as prominent now, but every neighborhood had a Candy Lady and they would sell candy from, um, just for the kids in neighborhood. They have frozen cups, sodas, and it's really a convenience thing to keep you from going outside the neighborhood for things.
It was actually safer, even though it was so much going on. I think your, um, your neighborhood kind of protected you. So everybody in your neighborhood kind of knew who you were and who your parents were.
So everybody looked out for each other in a sense. I don't remember anything ever happening to anybody from my neighborhood in my neighborhood. It'd be the people that come in your neighborhood.
So, um, yeah, so it's like home base.
So you go there, they might sell like little candy bars, like the snack sized candy bars, or Huggies, sodas, chips, things of that nature. It's literally a convenience store, but in the neighborhood. And Frozen Cup, so that's where like all the kids go. So, by all the kids coming there, all the, adults and literally everybody, every age. So, it's gonna prevent you from going in the store.
And you might be at the crib, you might be at your house, and you might just want something to snack on. You going to the Candy Lady, you're not going to the store. 'Cause that's, in reference, okay, like, from where I lived at, the store is like a mile up the street. The Candy Lady is right on the next street. You’re going to the candy lady.
So yeah, that's what a Candy Lady is though. It's like it's home base and it's like a safe place for everybody because everybody knows the Candy Lady.
(Base music stops, and contemplative piano music starts)
Nichole Hill: And the candy lady knows everybody. Becoming the Candy Lady of this new area was a convenient way for Ma Dukes to keep tabs on Marv P, plus it suited her.
Marv P: My mom, she was comfortable everywhere. I don't know a place she wasn't comfortable. Most candy ladies just start off like a side hustle. People in the neighborhood already respect you.
I can't imagine somebody being a candy lady that the neighborhood doesn't respect, cause that would be weird. I feel like they'd just be like stealing, taking their stuff all the time, but um, Yeah, so it was like everybody already kind of started to know my Moms in the neighborhood.
Because we didn't drive anywhere, my moms didn't have a car, so we caught the bus. She walked through the neighborhood to go to the store, you knew it was the lady that walked back with the basket.
(Music changes to drums, like from a speaker)
So everybody knew her, from a month or two months in, but I always say my Mom was famous because anywhere we go in Norfolk, she knew somebody. When we moved out there, just. She knew everybody. It don't matter where we go.
Nichole Hill: Being the Candy Lady wasn’t just about having snacks on hand. Marv P remembers how, when he would get into it with his peers, the whole neighborhood would get involved. But maybe not in the way you would think…
Marv P: I don't know if this is for every neighborhood, but in my neighborhood, it's kind of like the mediator.
I would get into stuff, you know? And, like, let's say you get into a fight in the neighborhood and it's like, nah. The older generation handles things differently. They're just like, no, we're not gonna do all of that and it's not gonna be an everyday thing and it's not going no further than today.
So come here, we're going to settle this difference and we're going to shake hands and end it here. And that's kind of like how I grew up with my Mom. It's to be that person that kind of like, “Oh, I see you over there, you better watch out. I know what you over there doing.” It's like a parent, because a lot of kids in these communities don't have like active parents. So, um, attention is needed and they do things to like seek attention.
For me, it happened quite a few times. Um, you know, I'm a boy growing up in the neighborhood and I feel like that's kind of just what we do. You have differences and you get into things. But everybody talks in the neighborhood.
So by the time you get home, she already knows whatever happened.
(Music stops)
Nichole Hill: There was this one time in particular
Marv P: So, I get home. And I'm not even going home for long. I think I'm just grabbing something like the drink or something. So she was like, "Yeah, I heard you was on fighting over on Harvey. What's that about? Did you win?"
So I'm like, so I'm like, "Yeah."
"Um, okay. What was that about though?"
I'm like, "Nah, they just, they tripping basically. Like it's like new kids in the neighborhood." And they like---I kind of knew myself early, so I never really, participated in trying to be something I'm not. So, you know, but when new people come around and feel like, they feel like they have to assert themselves or be this, like, tough person.
We used to play football and they just doing the most. So we get into a fight and, you know. I go home and she knows about it.
So it's like, "Go get them."
So I walk around the corner, me and my friends, we go back and it's like, "Yo, my Mom's, my Mom's want y'all to come around the corner. And she want to speak to your peoples."
And you know, at first it's like, "I'm not getting my mama," but then you got like, I'm not going back around there without them. So I'm like, "We're not doing that. So you better come on." Like, so you get around and we get to the front. Um, In front of my house, it's like, and it's crazy, it's like concrete too.
(Low drums start up again, as well as the sound of neighbors gathering)
So, um, it's, Wellington Oaks, you got like your little driveway, you don't really got grass, it's like the street. So, um, we get there and it's, now it's like, when something's going on in the neighborhood, half the neighborhood's outside. So imagine, in front of my house, it's like, 35 people.
It's every kid from the, five streets over and some of the adults, some of the older kids and everybody's trying to see what's really going to go on. So my Mom, we get over there and she's like, what's the problem? So, you know, as kids be like, "It ain't nothing. It ain't nothing. It's over."
And she was like, "So circle up." And you two are in the middle and you either fight or figure it out. And then one person has to say, "I don't want to fight." And then you shake hands and it's over and that's kind of how like a lot of things was ended when it came to--if my Mother was involved that's exactly how it ended so it don't matter you could afford in a whole other neighborhood if it makes it to the neighborhood then that's how it has to be resolved It ain't, it ain't no more fighting 15 times after this.
It ain't going to the school, it ain't going nowhere. It's going, it's going to end right here. And then you, you fight, you dust yourself off, and, you shake hands. You still don't like them, but you're going to shake hands because, you know, your Mom's there. And that's kind of how it ends.
And the crazier part is, you actually grow a respect for the person. You know, so after that, y'all end up friends. Like, after that. You know, we end up kind of hanging out.
But he was a whole different kid at that point, too. It was like, he wasn't the guy he moved there being. So, you know, he was himself at that point. Because you realize you don't have to put on like this tough guy thing.
When you move into a neighborhood, it's the whole neighborhood versus you. Until you become a part of the neighborhood. You know what I'm saying? So it's like We stick together and you're new here. You're not finna come in here and going crazy and doing all this stuff. So it's like, it's all of us against you, or you can just be a part of us. It's like, and that actually sounds gang-ish, but now that I think about it… (laughs)
(Music swells)
Nichole Hill: The candy lady wasn’t unique to this neighborhood in Norfolk. She is a staple in neighborhoods across America. There is an article that we came across after this conversation that perfectly encapsulates the beauty of the role of the candy lady. It’s linked in the show notes.
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This series was written by Jackie Glass and Hannah Sobol, edited and hosted by me, Nichole Hill, Sound Design by Trendel Lightburn, and our work has been supported by the Virginia African American Cultural Center through a grant from Virginia Tourism Corporation. Follow our work by subscribing wherever you get your podcasts. We couldn’t do this without people brave enough to share their experiences, so thank you Marv P (and Ma Dukes of course.)