So, the other night my
friend and I were minding our own black business on the streets of San
Francisco. My friend was smoking a cigarette and I was arguing with my sinuses
because the wind was confused about which direction it wanted to blow, and
well, claritin only does so much when you stand downhill of said smoke. In
essence, we were having the time of our lives post-birthday (not mine yet)-bottomless
drinks-celebration.
Of all the weirdos that
accosted us that evening, a well meaning white woman who obviously uses Pert
Plus or V05 hair products says, OMG,
you’re soooo cute! *pinches
my cheeks in her mind* in my black direction. I look to my friend who confirms with
the furrowing of her brow that I was in fact a whole grown ass taxpaying human
being who was just called cute by a strange white woman on the streets of San
Francisco.
While I resisted every urge
to thrash her with the rage of every ancestor in my lineage, my dear friend
decided to have an intervention with this individual. On the streets of San
Francisco. There was a time when this would have been received and filed under
“I JUST FCKN CAN’T EVEN” and went on with life. But that file has long since
filled. It’s overflowing, so my thoughts were written all over my face – I didn’t have to a word, yall #AintNoSmileBih.
So, let’s take a listen in
on that there intervention:
1. The white person whitesplains that they didn’t mean to offend by
whitesplaining that the "compliment" was somehow connected to their
inadequacy. OMG I mean your hair
is so cute. I could never get my hair to do that. It’s so dry and drab.
2. The white person describes the ways in which they aren’t racist
and totally understand what they just did wrong, even though they just did it
strongly and wrongly with authority. I know, I know…when will I get this through my thin
unconditioned hair?! I’m totes the worst, right?
3. The white person mentions the very white neighborhood they grew
up in and the black friend that they had to inform you that a black person has
signed off on them – so they’re cool. OMG Janessa spent the night at my house all the time. We’re
BFFS! She’d kill me if she knew what I just did. I should call her.
4. The white person changes the subject to talk about something else
because they can’t handle your articulate articulation of their heinous
offense. Right?
Like who elected this president anyway? He’s totes the worst. (and here, we find my friend, irony)
5. The white person finally resumes their white business, which
typically involves getting into some other color’s business. It’s sooo cold, right? OMG I should go! It’s so late!
 |
I have never been referred to as “cute” but another black person, or
person of color after assuming my adult form. I’ve been told my shoes are cute,
or that my outfit is hella cute – but never referred to as “cute” like you
would a purse poodle. But white folks?? She totes purse poodle’d me. Like I was
five years old and dressed myself for school in my Halloween costume cute. She
wanted to pat the top of my head. I know she did.
I don’t get it.
You’re white. I’m awesome. And you just HAVE to tell me about it. I did an
amazing and extraordinary thing – combed my hair -_- … – and you are dumfounded
that people actually do this because, well, we see what you don’t do
with yours. In the spirit of my trying to get to heaven, here are some ways you
can help me not want to curse you:
1. Say: Your hair looks great!
2. Say: I love your hair style!
3. *think about saying something to me, then smile and leave me to
mind my black business on the streets of San Francisco in the wee hours of the
morning while my friend smokes a cigarette and my sinus cavity fails me*
Look, I’m not telling you
to not speak to me (I definitely advised you to not speak to me…It’s not you, it’s
me). Many of the issues in the world today are a direct result of
different people not speaking to each other (and listening actively,
and understanding empathetically). I am definitely telling
you to “don’t be stupid”. Let her be the example of being stupid and don’t do
that.
As life would have things,
there were homeless/transient people also outside on the streets of San
Francisco. As they would walk by my friend and I would nod, or say hello, while
we were being whitesplained. You know, the part where she is a genuine, caring
soul, and just aches to heal the world and help others. We gave the dollar
we had in each of our purses, so when there was a next ask for money, we’d
respond that we didn’t have anything, and wish them a good night. Not once did
she stop her whitesplaining to acknowledge in any way, any of these people,
these humans, these individuals, these life forms breathing the smoggy air with
her.
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