By BestintheRealm
Growing up in the deep South, you hear things. A lot of things. Racist things, ignorant things—casual hatred tossed around like it’s just part of the conversation. It’s woven into everyday life, into jokes, into traditions. Some people grow up accepting it, never questioning it, just absorbing the world around them as if it’s the only way things could be.
I wasn’t one of those people.
I was raised to be kind—not because it was trendy, not because it was easy, but because it was right. I saw the ugliness around me and knew it wasn’t how I wanted to be. That kind of mindset—the us-versus-them attitude—never sat right with me. It felt small. It felt wrong.
Then, I found Anthony Bourdain.
A Different Kind of Hero
Bourdain wasn’t the kind of person I was told to admire. He drank, he smoked, he indulged in vices I never touched. I’ve never drunk, smoked, or done drugs, and I don’t plan to. But none of that ever mattered to me when it came to Tony. What mattered was how he saw the world—how he treated people.
While so many are obsessed with drawing lines between “us” and “them,” Bourdain erased them. He traveled across the world—not as a tourist, but as a guest. He sat at tables with people from every background imaginable and never judged, never looked down, never acted superior. He made it his mission to show us that we’re all far more similar than we are different.
The things I grew up hearing? The idea that certain people don’t belong, that cultures don’t mix, that we should fear what we don’t understand? Bourdain shattered all of that. He proved that those ideas were just excuses—lazy, ignorant ways to stay comfortable instead of growing.
Why We Needed Him Then—And Why We Need Him Even More Now
In a world where so many people profit from division, Bourdain was a rare voice of unity. He showed us that food isn’t just food—it’s history, it’s culture, it’s family. It’s a story on a plate, and if you’re willing to sit down and listen, you’ll realize how much you have in common with people you’ve never met.
He didn’t just talk about it—he lived it. He went to places others ignored or feared, and he loved people for who they were, not what they represented. That’s something we’re missing today.
The world is louder, angrier, more divided. People aren’t listening to each other anymore. Everyone’s obsessed with proving their side is right, but no one’s sitting at the table, sharing a meal, having a conversation.
Tony would have been doing exactly that.
RIP, Tony
I never met Anthony Bourdain, but he shaped the way I see the world. He showed me that kindness isn’t weakness, that curiosity is a gift, and that we all have so much more in common than we think.
He made the world feel bigger and smaller at the same time—bigger because of the infinite cultures, flavors, and experiences waiting to be discovered, and smaller because we’re all just people, trying to find joy in a meal, in a story, in life.
We need more people like him.
Rest easy, Tony. We still miss you.
Image from The New Yorker
