Safety
It's been several months since I posted anything. In November of last year I got a vehicle, in which I had many adventures. Now I'm having some car trouble and have been walking and taking the bus again. (Had to give up my bike when I moved).
I now live in a house where the owner lives in a finished attic and rents out two of the bedrooms. It's in a nice neighborhood but farther south and more mixed race than my old neighborhood and therefore considered a step down by a lot of people in this city. (In my old location, when I first moved there I kept saying to myself, "Where are all the black people?") I'm more comfortable here. You do see other people walking just to get somewhere, the buses run more often, and more people take them. I fit in better.
I don't want to let the assumption that an all-white neighborhood is better than a mixed race neighborhood go unexamined. It's crazy but white flight still exists. The perceptions that a)for a white person, living in a neighborhood with black people is not as safe and b)for a black person, you are unwelcome in predominantly white areas, both of these are still alive and well in this city. To be fair, it could have more to do with a desire for comfort and sameness than with any real kind of fear for safety.
In the house where I live, we don't lock the front door. The woman who owns the house believes that if you trust people, they will be trustworthy. I see not locking the door as an expression of welcome to her friends and neighbors, a subversive statement that we don't see our own security as the be-all and end-all, and a rejection of the closed-in, private, fearful of strangers spirit of the times. I love the simplicity of it, not having to carry around a bunch of keys or even answer the door when friends come over.
Yesterday I walked down to the store in a little bit of a hurry. A person I encountered on the way made me feel unwelcome in the neighborhood where I live. I didn't realize what was going on right away, but I suspect it had something to do with race and the Ferguson protests. Here's what happened:
About halfway to the store, two older men crossed the street just in front of me. It was one of those awkward moments where you don't know whether to speed up and pass them or let them pass and then walk more slowly and right behind them. Since they were older, I decided to let them go ahead and maybe I would cross the street if I needed to walk faster. Both men were black. One was completely silent and the other would not stop talking for as long as I walked near them. The first thing he said to me was, "No one's going to hurt you." Then he asked me if I had been up the street at one of the stores near my house. He pointed and said something that I didn't understand, so I said, "I'm just going to the store." He tried to ask me again if I came from whatever place, and I said, "No, sorry," thinking that he needed some information about whatever place he was talking about, like is it still open or do they have this or that or whatever. Then he went on and on about how no one was going to hurt me. "I'd sooner protect you than let someone hurt you" and "I would lose this right here if I did something like that," pulling some card out of his pocket that I didn't recognize. I just smiled at him a lot, trying to break the tension and saying, "Thank you" a lot and calling him sir. At this point, I was kind of walking along side of them in a parking lot because I didn't want to walk right with them but he was still talking to me so I didn't want to just pass them. Then he said, "Do you want to go ahead? Go on ahead of us," and I said, "Thanks, I am kind of in a hurry. Have a nice day," and then he said something like, You're a nice-looking girl, what's your sign? and I just walked away. As I did, he kept talking as if to himself or to his friend, saying, "She knows," and stuff like that.
I didn't get this right at the time, but it occurred to me while I was walking. He wanted to know what a white woman was doing walking down the street in that particular place. Maybe it's not something he sees a lot or maybe he had some reason to want to make me feel unwelcome. I've heard questions like his first question before. In predominantly black neighborhoods, there will be a place or two that everyone sees as more likely to have white people around, maybe a certain store or a ministry or church. Basically, he was trying to place me, and that's ok.
I've been thinking about the man's other comments, about not getting hurt, in light of the Ferguson tragedy. What gets to me is that was the first thing he said, even though I've never been afraid of getting hurt here and didn't show any sign of fear when I met the two guys. I see what happened to Michael Brown and what happened to Trayvon Martin as the direct result of people of other races fearing black men. How lucky am I that I can walk around where I appear a bit out of place and be perfectly safe? I'm not seen as a threat to anyone but rather as someone to be protected. Those two young men were not that lucky. That's white privilege, folks. Some people would say that the fact that I was harassed by the man on the street is evidence that there's not so much white privilege, that we have our disadvantages too. I don't see it that way. When I look at this country from the perspective of a person of color, I'm afraid and disillusioned and bitter. I see young men getting shot to death by people in positions of authority, pretty obviously just on the basis of the color of their skin. I hear about black parents having to give their sons "the talk" to tell them how the world is and how they have to be above reproach or risk being victimized. I perceive the subtle differences in the way the media portray the lives of white people or people of color, the implication being that white lives are more valuable. I don't know how I know this last one. I can't point to any evidence or studies or statistics. It's just something about us that I know from having grown up in this culture. In the incident yesterday, I was not a victim. I'm pretty sure I was just a representation in someone's mind of white privilege and of everything that's wrong with our society when it comes to race.
I now live in a house where the owner lives in a finished attic and rents out two of the bedrooms. It's in a nice neighborhood but farther south and more mixed race than my old neighborhood and therefore considered a step down by a lot of people in this city. (In my old location, when I first moved there I kept saying to myself, "Where are all the black people?") I'm more comfortable here. You do see other people walking just to get somewhere, the buses run more often, and more people take them. I fit in better.
I don't want to let the assumption that an all-white neighborhood is better than a mixed race neighborhood go unexamined. It's crazy but white flight still exists. The perceptions that a)for a white person, living in a neighborhood with black people is not as safe and b)for a black person, you are unwelcome in predominantly white areas, both of these are still alive and well in this city. To be fair, it could have more to do with a desire for comfort and sameness than with any real kind of fear for safety.
In the house where I live, we don't lock the front door. The woman who owns the house believes that if you trust people, they will be trustworthy. I see not locking the door as an expression of welcome to her friends and neighbors, a subversive statement that we don't see our own security as the be-all and end-all, and a rejection of the closed-in, private, fearful of strangers spirit of the times. I love the simplicity of it, not having to carry around a bunch of keys or even answer the door when friends come over.
Yesterday I walked down to the store in a little bit of a hurry. A person I encountered on the way made me feel unwelcome in the neighborhood where I live. I didn't realize what was going on right away, but I suspect it had something to do with race and the Ferguson protests. Here's what happened:
About halfway to the store, two older men crossed the street just in front of me. It was one of those awkward moments where you don't know whether to speed up and pass them or let them pass and then walk more slowly and right behind them. Since they were older, I decided to let them go ahead and maybe I would cross the street if I needed to walk faster. Both men were black. One was completely silent and the other would not stop talking for as long as I walked near them. The first thing he said to me was, "No one's going to hurt you." Then he asked me if I had been up the street at one of the stores near my house. He pointed and said something that I didn't understand, so I said, "I'm just going to the store." He tried to ask me again if I came from whatever place, and I said, "No, sorry," thinking that he needed some information about whatever place he was talking about, like is it still open or do they have this or that or whatever. Then he went on and on about how no one was going to hurt me. "I'd sooner protect you than let someone hurt you" and "I would lose this right here if I did something like that," pulling some card out of his pocket that I didn't recognize. I just smiled at him a lot, trying to break the tension and saying, "Thank you" a lot and calling him sir. At this point, I was kind of walking along side of them in a parking lot because I didn't want to walk right with them but he was still talking to me so I didn't want to just pass them. Then he said, "Do you want to go ahead? Go on ahead of us," and I said, "Thanks, I am kind of in a hurry. Have a nice day," and then he said something like, You're a nice-looking girl, what's your sign? and I just walked away. As I did, he kept talking as if to himself or to his friend, saying, "She knows," and stuff like that.
I didn't get this right at the time, but it occurred to me while I was walking. He wanted to know what a white woman was doing walking down the street in that particular place. Maybe it's not something he sees a lot or maybe he had some reason to want to make me feel unwelcome. I've heard questions like his first question before. In predominantly black neighborhoods, there will be a place or two that everyone sees as more likely to have white people around, maybe a certain store or a ministry or church. Basically, he was trying to place me, and that's ok.
I've been thinking about the man's other comments, about not getting hurt, in light of the Ferguson tragedy. What gets to me is that was the first thing he said, even though I've never been afraid of getting hurt here and didn't show any sign of fear when I met the two guys. I see what happened to Michael Brown and what happened to Trayvon Martin as the direct result of people of other races fearing black men. How lucky am I that I can walk around where I appear a bit out of place and be perfectly safe? I'm not seen as a threat to anyone but rather as someone to be protected. Those two young men were not that lucky. That's white privilege, folks. Some people would say that the fact that I was harassed by the man on the street is evidence that there's not so much white privilege, that we have our disadvantages too. I don't see it that way. When I look at this country from the perspective of a person of color, I'm afraid and disillusioned and bitter. I see young men getting shot to death by people in positions of authority, pretty obviously just on the basis of the color of their skin. I hear about black parents having to give their sons "the talk" to tell them how the world is and how they have to be above reproach or risk being victimized. I perceive the subtle differences in the way the media portray the lives of white people or people of color, the implication being that white lives are more valuable. I don't know how I know this last one. I can't point to any evidence or studies or statistics. It's just something about us that I know from having grown up in this culture. In the incident yesterday, I was not a victim. I'm pretty sure I was just a representation in someone's mind of white privilege and of everything that's wrong with our society when it comes to race.