Does where you live in America make a difference?
It was 1980, lunchtime in Pasadena, California
and we headed to our favorite restaurant. As usual the family style seating at long tables were almost filled. We spotted two empty seats across from each other. I went to save us seats and Dexter went to order. Soon enough, Dexter took his seat across from me. The woman seated to his left exchanged glances with the woman next to me, then made a big show of moving as far away from Dexter as she could.
Our calzones arrived. When Dexter reached for the hot pepper and parmesan shakers, the women next to me moved them out of reach. “Excuse me” I said in a nasty tone “would you please pass the shakers”. Dexter shook his head no – a hard no. Suffice to say, we ate in silence and left.
On the walk back to work, I was still pissed, “damn it, why did you stop me, those uppity b—tches had it coming.” Dexter did his umm hmm thing and we kept walking. Dexter’s umm hmm thing is his way of calling time out, while he thinks it over.
We walked on. He pushed me. I pushed him. We pushed each other. Okay, my temper tantrum was over. This is what Dexter told me.
Dexter saw what I did not see. We were in the middle of a restaurant filled with white people. My going at it with a couple of white women was one thing. But there was no telling what all those other white people were thinking about Dexter. If someone decided to take offense at “my” attitude, they’d go after Dexter, not me. My turn for a time out.
I never made that mistake again. When you are with someone who is not white, don’t draw attention to yourself. That’s how white people get black people beat up or killed.
In case you think I’m playing color blind, you are wrong. I grew up on the wrong side of the tracks. Back then, white culture was a whole new world to me. But it wasn’t new to Dexter. He was the one teaching me how to behave, not the other way around. In my neighborhood, someone who showed disrespect that way, was looking for a fight. If you didn’t push back, it was an invitation to get pushed around by everyone.
The nice white world wasn’t anything like I thought it would be. White culture only looks nice; fancy words, expensive things and titles cover up all kinds of ugliness.
My friends and I are getting old. I retired, moved to Kentucky and now Dexter is worried again. Dexter pulls no punches; remember Kentucky isn’t California he says, until you learn how things work back there, keep your mouth shut. Turns out, I see better than I used to.
A young guy at the local coffee shop, whose family has been here since 1790 explains the boundaries here and how to see them. If I cross those boundaries, he warns, it won’t be me that pays the price. Yeah, I get that. It took me a while, but I’ve learned.
I am telling this story for a reason. Sometimes, you have to fight your battles all by yourself. If you pick a fight, don’t expect black people to back you up. And white women, get your heads out of your fannies. If putting a white man in the position of having to stand up for you makes you feel special, so be it. But if you put black people in that position, you are risking their lives.
That said, when some racist spouts off in white-only company, let loose and do not back down.
And never, ever, let anyone else decide who can and cannot come to your home.
