styling and racial profiling
i was in quiznos (the one on Highway 68 in High Point) today…i walked in hands in coat pockets – people lookin at me like i had pantyhose on my face and i told them to lie down on the floor..
we were waiting for someone that hadn’t arrived
so we sat in the corner and waited
then they came
we ordered…a brotha w/a matchin Cooji sweater and hat combo pulled up with his lady…the sandwich maker went over to his manager an whispered.
then he pulled out his cell phone
dialed 2 numbers, maybe 3
my imagination tells me a 9 then a 1
and maybe another 1
getting ready to hit send
aint that some shit?
the restuarant next door got robbed a while back. this is related to me how?
Since a forum such as this exist for individuals to relate their experiences with race I must tell you this small story. I grew up knowing the names of my European fathers and mothers, my skin white, eyes green, hair black. Little would you know that I my maternal Grandmother is a Western Cherokee American Indian and my fraternal Great Grandfather was born of a blue eyed German and a brown eyed Cheyenne couple, both seeking freedom and prosperity in a time when the Indian was considered sub-human and had not been Americanized. Not all white men have pure European blood running in their veins and can be counted on to understand diversity. My first experience duality in my heritage was hearing something new from a greasy old aristocratic, drunken man at a wealthy Moose Lodge my Grandmother cleaned. This man asked me if I had seen the lazy “squaw” about. Despite being only five years of age I did my best to give the man a crown of thorns and to relate without words who the “squaw” was. Without words my grandmother left the building and explained to me what being Indian meant and how fortunate I was to look European. I never believed I looked anyway other than as myself until that day, as my memory holds. Imagine living as a proud American, who is white in all apperances, yet holds the spirit and heritage of the Indian and European peoples and is never recognized as anything other than a potential racist. The time is too short to explain the benefits of being white on the outside and a man of many fathers and mothers in spirit. The next time any of us take shelter from our fears of what the person of another color is doing, we should remember that we all have a story. The white man you may believe is dialing the police on you may be calling his Japanese wife. The black man you believe may be trying to rob you when your car won’t start may actually be trying to help you start your car. One way or another we will all be hit with sticks and stones. How many will you throw?
Respectfully,
Jason Mance VanOrsdol
everyone has a story, I agree. I’ve got a bunch of stories, but if i blogged every time someone switched the side they carried their purse when they see me, or someone making assumption of my social status based purely on my size and skin color, I’d have to create a separate category on my blog. I have better things to spend my time on.
It’s really a remarkable thing that I wish you could experience. observing changes in behavior when I come into the proximity of certain people. sometimes it’s obvious, sometimes it’s subtle, but perceptible. and I’m not overtly looking for these things, I just have eyes and I’m aware.
That day was the most blatant form of racism I had ever experienced. watching someone pick up the phone, dial two numbers and wait for someone to make the next move was disturbing.
there’s no misreading watching two people behind the counter exchange nervous glances to determine their strategy.
In response, I cannot claim to understand the daily trials and tribulations you undergo. I myself am 6 foot 3″, 215 punds, dark hair and have been searched and inspected on numerous occasions due to my size and physical charateristics. I can understand the person who walks away from you, gives you the glance of fear, because you are caucasion and society has told individuals that white males are an enemy to other rich and diverse cultural and ethnic groups. I know this because I work for the Department of Human Rights in Tulsa. I do spend my time recording stories such as yours and speaking of your experiences is exactly what you should do. Our nation has bleed for this freedom. You story sounds much like an issue of public accomidation, no one can refuse a person of any color, nationality, race, family status, age or veterans status a service or good, not even a water fountain. If this happens to you again, tell the unduely paniced individual(s) about your rights or tell your city – state – federal authorities. Communication is the key, when dealing with reasonable people. I do have stacks of race related attacks, hate crimes, gender crimes – against every type of person one may imagine. It may suprise many to know that as a European American and American Indian I work to enforce civil, employment and human rights for all peoples. While we cannot change the underlying and open race relation issues in America we can send a message to those who do not follow the laws our society has created. I as well have been discriminated against. I have lost job opportunities because my skin is white and have been told this is the reason. I have been subjected to racist taunts by members of other races. Racism is a virus and it can spread into the hearts of all men and women, for all of our hearts beat the same, regardless of our skin.