I was at an event last night that was a lot of fun, save for one fact: for much of it, I was the only black guy in the room.
Now, I'm not going to name the event, only say that it was for a good cause. But after one conversation, with a sister (a black woman, for those of you who don't know what I mean), that went a little off, but that was quickly replaced by three cool women, one of them also a sister who was really just "normal," I happened to take stock of my surroundings.
No brothers - no black guys.
OK. Now, I have to explain what happened with that first conversation with the first sister (not to be confused with Michelle Obama, who I'm sure would be more pleasant to talk with.) I simply went over to introduce myself, but talking with her felt icky. Like wading through a classist mine field thrown up by someone who seemed bent on implying you didn't belong in her World.
You see, she sells a very expensive item that, if I mentioned it, would give away her. That's not my intent here at all. And my objective at that point was to introduce myself, as one does at parties, and because we knew the same people. But I realized, as we were talking that had I took my leave of her, she would have been standing there by herself. So, I tried to at least have a conversation with her so she would not feel left alone. Mistake? No. Regardless of the outcome, I'd do it again; it's just the right thing to do.
At any rate, her desire to issue her little put downs was so intense I had to finally break through it. I know she's having a hard time selling this thing because she implied as such, but I didn't say so at all. But after being peppered with comments about how many rich people are "out there" and that they "can afford it," and her constant looking around, and not in my eyes in response to my questions about the economy and with respect to the economic climate five years before, I'd had enough with the bullshit and peppering, and just said "Can we talk? I am a human being."
That did break through the ice, and there was a lot of it, but it revealed someone who has obvious issues with black guys that no conversation with me could ever cure. The bottom line is to assume a person's not in your social space because they are black and male is off-putting. To have it done to you by someone who's black is more hurtful.
Fortunately, I was saved when the more well-adjusted sister asked me if I would buy a raffle ticket. I saw an opening for a more pleasant conversation, and took it faster than you could say "Run!"
That was when I looked around.
Groups and groups of white people, mostly women. The female part was cool; I'm used to that. But after a while on this earth, you can't help but wonder (and I know this is something that goes through the head of every black guy in this situation), do they have any black friends?
Now, the people were nice and willing to talk, once the cocktails flowed. And being a video-blogger is a great way to start a conversation with anyone, especially if you want to get them on camcorder for an interview. But absent that, you have the man who comes up and is stupid enough to mistake you for the help.
There was a black guy holding a sign that pointed the way to the party. He was never in the room afterward. Later, as I was talking with a good friend I'd not seen in a while, this guy came up, didn't bother to say "excuse me," and just asked "Are you the person who helped me up here."
Now, that black guy and I not only don't look alike, he had on a white shirt and red tie; I'm dressed entirely in black, from neck to feet. Plus, I'm at the business of chatting and swigging a martini, so you'd think he'd at least act like a gentleman, let alone get a clue that I wasn't the help. All that went through my head in two seconds, and I answered "No," and returned to my conversation.
Eventually, he realized he really screwed up in the manners department, and we wound up having a brief conversation about camcorders. But for me, it was just to rid myself of the annoyance.
Whatever's going on in the Bay Area, the declining black population is part due to the passing of families, as it is lack of economic opportunities. But also, I think, it's social. We're too used to seeing clumps of white people together, so we think it's OK. Really, it's not OK.
It's not healthy for anyone to have friends and associations all of the same skin color. And I think what happens in The Bay Area, and for anyone who's a black guy and runs in circles where they wind up being the only black guy in the room, is the desire for a more welcoming society eventually pulls them away to another city.
I think that's why black population numbers have increased in the South. It's more than jobs. In the South, my view is that whites and blacks have gotten over a lot of crap and just move in the same circles. Interracial relationships are far more common in metro areas. In that way, the society, at least to this outsider, seems more advanced than in the Bay Area. If a person has a "race issue" in the South, at least you know that, and can avoid the nutcase. In the Bay Area, that's much harder to do.
Here, whites
who have race issues don't act that way, they just shield themselves with other white people they call friends, and satisfy themselves with the idea that as long as someone black walks by them, they're in a diverse community. That's the biggest joke of all.
It's too much effort for black guys to have to battle someone's race issues by being friendly and absorbing a person's issues. In the Bay Area, it's all so subtle that it kind of builds and sneaks up on you. From people mistaking you for "the help," either accidentally, or - as it happened to me at The Balboa Cafe recently - intentionally. (And in that instance, I openly told the person, who I was already familiar with, to knock it off, as she was being a jerk-off and not in a pleasurable way.) To how some white people don't even bother to say "hello" to you first, because they expect you to make the first move all the time.
If you're black and male in The Bay Area, and reading this, try it sometime. Instead of being the guy who makes the first move in a greeting, try saying nothing and see if the same people approach you first. More often than not, they won't. I've seen this for years here. I call it the racial pecking order and I've seen it play out again and again: my experience is if you're white, someone else white isn't as likely to treat you that way. They will seek your company.
And that, for whatever weird reasons that boil down to racism, is why there were clumps and clumps of groups of white people. For all of those clumps, I'll bet there's a story of someone who knows a black guy, but just treats them as window dressing: someone they see but don't let in to their social circle.
For me, in large part because of my objective of calling out such behavior, I have a set of friends who are white, who just don't act like that. In fact, that's why I was at the party: they invited me.
Eventually, though, I wasn't the only black guy in the room. Our ranks increased by two - making it three black guys out of 200 people. One of the brothers I already knew; he puts himself out there socially, friendly to all, and to the point of grabbing someone away from a conversation in a fashion I'd never copy. He's done it again, and again. And with all that, he showed up alone, as the party was winding down.
The other man was the head of the organization. Smooth, cool, but apprehensive, too (and I think it was because he was concerned with the event itself, which went well, I think). In a way, he the best example of what I'm blogging about. So used to being in mostly white social circles, and mostly because of education (Hey, going to college at a big university and gaining great friends of different backgrounds can prep you for these situations), that he rose to become the boss of a large local Bay Area company.
For some of the whites in the room, his assent was perfect, but it's got to be lonely for him. I know it is. They get to maintain their social circle as devoid of black men, yet have one black guy just close enough for them to say "I'm OK and don't have race issues." But he's not really a friend at all; in an odd sort of way, he's still just the help.
Being the only black guy in the room sucks. But, if the people who aren't black take the effort to reach out and gain black friends, and blacks in that environment can just relax and enjoy themselves, we can make our society a little better for everyone. And maybe stem the tide of black folks leaving the Bay Area, just a little bit.
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Congress says “99ers are NOT an Emergency” but apparently defunding NPR is?
On St. Patrick's Day it's tempting to lecture about stereotypes, discrimination, and the scorn that greeted Irish immigrants to North America, including how the Ku Klux Klan, in particular, reacted with violent prejudice, since there are now more people of Irish ancestry living in the U.S.A. than on the Emerald Isle. But the legend of driving the snakes from Ireland is a metaphor for conquering our fears.
It isn't about green beer and shots of Jameson's; the celebration of Saint Patrick's Day is about embracing those we meet - finding and recognizing our similarities instead of dwelling upon the differences.
he had no idea his descendants would be able to watch events unfolding some day in places as exotic and "remote" as Cairo, Haiti, Japan, or even New Orleans or Madison as though we were all right there let alone use cell phones to text financial support. But he'd have loved the idea of helping those in need, of standing with workers fighting for their rights, and walking like an Egyptian.
Because culturally the Irish are inclined to see us all as one family. Irish-Americans are glad to see the wearing of the Green, today, even among those who can't spell Leprechaun and never eat potatoes. We're clear on why some Scots and Brits select other colors, and that's just fine, too - we'll still be toasting and singing and embracing all who can, even for one day, see a bit of something different as part of themselves, and a bit of themselves in the goodwill of Irish blessings and humor.
the stew with potatoes to serve another new member of the family. Guinness optional.
