Today is one of the most beautiful days of the year. The sun is shining the leaves are blowing, my neighbors and I waited in line to vote. What a privilege it is, especially in this community where for the longest time African-Americans could not vote, or were considered only 3/5ths of a person. Even in our recent history African-Americans were threatened, harassed and killed for voting. So today is a beautiful day. a day that brings dignity to young and old in my neighborhood. In a community that sometimes feels like it has no voice, today, people in my neighborhood waited for hours to have their voice counted, what a beautiful day.
On this day however, I am reminded that this struggle, the struggle for dignity is not over. Not one bit.
Starbucks gives out free coffee for those who vote. We have a Starbucks in our neighborhood. Imagine that a Starbucks in an African-American community. Starbucks started the store to provide jobs and potentially attract other businesses into our jobless neighborhood. We love our Starbucks, young African American professional stop by on their lunch hour; African American college students do homework after class. The elderly from our neighborhood sit, talk, drink coffee, and play chess. If you live in a poor community you will understand how amazing it is to have a quite place, a restful place to sit and feel like you are treated like a normal human being. There is no bulletproof glass at Starbucks, no walls of glass that separate the store workers from the customers. The employees are young African American men and women, many working their furst job where they are treated with value.
Ashley and I went to Starbucks after voting to get our free cups of coffee. The place was buzzing with excited conversation. Everyone was excited about the election. To elderly folks (who probably remember the voting act of 1965) happily engaged us in conversation. They weren't concerned who we voted for (I'm not telling by the way) but they were excited to turn in their voting slip, and get a cup of coffee. Proof that in this country there are moments of equality.
Then I heard the statement, the statement that sucked the life from the room. "I hope you are all here tomorrow!" I turned, as I turned I heard the next statement, "This all might be burned to the ground!" Two white police officers had entered the door. They spoke loud enough for everyone to here, and only spoke to the one white Starbucks worker. “You shouldn't be here tonight, they joked." Everyone held their breath. Something evil had just entered the room. Power, power that was distinctly racist. What gives someone the right to enter into an all black environment and say things that degrades the community to rioting animals. This is my neighborhood too, and the people I know here are sweet gentle, hopeful people. Has there been riots in the past? Yes. Were they a good thing? Absolutely not. Can I understand why they happened? Now that I am learning history that wasn't taught to me, I can. Could there be potential riots tonight or tomorrow. Not likely, unless there is reason to believe that the election was stolen. Which if you know our history is not impossible to imagine.
I know the bulk of my readers will disagree with this post. If you do, just realize that it is easy to justify such statements from the outside. But I know when I have heard racism, and I know that I heard disdain, and something that bordered on hate from Chicago's "Finest". I know when I have seen power abused. "The police are our friends" is what I heard growing up. Tell that to the young man standing next to the white woman behind the Starbucks counter. Tell that to the African American pastor who is afraid for his life when he is pulled over for no reason. The police are my friends. They talk to me in Starbucks. They give us personal cell phone numbers, "just in case". They talk to me on my porch about how they want to flip a neighborhood. They see that I am white, and their true thoughts come out. "We are together, I’ll watch your back, why do you live here?" I know for a fact that these conversations do not happen with my African-American brothers and sisters.
So what could Ashley and I do. What could anyone do in our situation? Say something, and risk being pulled out of the store and patted down. I know how our police function in our neighborhood. It's through fear and intimidation. They would not have allowed someone to question their opinions. So we walked out. But as we did, something sunk in me, "I should have said something, anything,” but fear is powerful.
I am trying to recapture the hope that I had this morning, but there is something bitter in my stomach. And it’s not the Starbucks coffee.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
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17 comments:
I'll just say that there were more comments said from the two officers that Noel omitted in this post in order to not belabor the point. I think this is a good post honey. Its important to capture emotion, story, experience. I don't think this is a post to try and prove a point, or defend, but rather, to talk about what you experienced, how it was hard, and what it felt like. I was there too obviously, and it was very hard. It was hard to see the faces of others, trying to act like they didn't hear the openly disrespectful comments, when we all knew that we did. I love you. Love is what we got, right?
I don't disagree with your post at all! I'm sorry that such a wretched thing happened like that today. :( I think I can actually feel my blood pressure rising.
((hugs))
i agree with almost all of your post, my friend. my only sticking point is that riots aren't a good thing. most riots aren't, i suppose. but when a people are held down long enough and hard enough, eventually they become hopeless enough that change will not happen as promised...that those in power will always mske sure that they maintain that power. it's a pressure cooker, exacerbated by the few people that compel those around them to not stand for such things anymore.
those "agitators" are always regarded poorly. people wonder why they must stir the pot...why they can't do things through peaceful means. now, i don't support violence against people as a way to show the anger. but even Jesus went in and turned things over when it was clear that people were being taken advantage of, and in the name of His Father.
"no taxation without representation" was our founding father's rebellious cry. it doesn't matter what the words are. when people are oppressed, sooner or later they will rise up. if the goal is to avoid rioting, then stopping oppression would be the logical starting point. oddly enough, and i know you guys know this, that's the heart of God. it's pretty plain. stop oppression.
maybe we could make a tract with that and hand it out. christians like tracts, right? :-)
Noel -- I felt so much of your heart come through in this post as you described the situation so poignantly. Thank you for sharing this experience.
Nate, perhaps I'm misunderstanding...but perhaps you only saw the word "absolutely" after noel asked the question of whether or not riots or good. His response to his question was actually, "absolutely not" but there was a line break, and it might have looked like absolutely. Is that what you saw? Just curious based on your post. And by the way, its amazing to have you on the blog!!! you can visit mine if you want, transitionwoman-ar.blogspot.com
yeah, ash...my word choice made it a bit unclear. i was saying that riots aren't necessarily a bad thing.
Noel, I mostly agree with your post, as well. It's tough, though, coming from the perspective of any inner city cop. That obviously does not excuse that type of behavior, but I just want to run with the point for a second. Philadelphia was named the capital for murders last year (or maybe two years ago) and we saw the most amount of police officers die from shootings and such, mostly committed in black neighborhoods. It has to be difficult every day for officers having to deal with neighborhoods like these, thus stereotyping neighborhoods like yours. It's unfortunate that you had to experience that, but in all honesty and regret, that still happens, even though it obviously shouldn't.
ROAR!This makes me sick, Noel. I wish I could freeze the scene, scoop up all of the innocent bystanders and remove them before this horrific drive-by knocks them flat. Sticks and stones? These words cut deep. I'm sorry for you and Ashley, too, as this hatred is one of your biggest rivals. Peace to you, brother.
Did anyone turn and ask them what the hell they were talking about?
No, Hammerdad, nobody did. Including me. How difficult it is to speak truth to power, fear is a powerful emotion that leaves a residue weeks later. I wish I had said something...maybe that's what I am so angry about.
Could you have quietly asked them outside the Starbucks why they were "stirring the pot"?
I read what you posted, and wonder if white people in the neighborhood could act as a "buffer" in situations like this.
I have not been in an "inner city" environment since leaving NYC during the 1970s, so I come at this as a complete outsider for these times.
The question that came to me first when reading was why would the cops just have to give the first jab. They are supposed to react, not cause the reaction. But again, I have spent my last 17 years in Raleigh, and San Diego suburbs.
A few weeks ago I watched the local police pull a kid over in what was a fairly routine traffic stop. They ended up throwing him around pretty good and threatening to tow his vehicle. Tossed him in the back of the police car, after which he kicked the window. So 5 cops pulled him out of the car, threw him on the sidewalk, sat on top of him and tasered him. All the while he was in handcuffs.
I didn't know what to do. I got my camera out, stood on the sidewalk and took pictures. It was the only way I could figure out to get them to back off without creating a bigger problem. . .
it's a bizarre process when you feel that transition from "cops are my friend" to "something else"
Hammerdad, wow this sort of thing really messes me up. Your post brought tears to my eyes, as I thought of young men that I know who were treated similarly.
"it's a bizarre process when you feel that transition from "cops are my friend" to "something else""
How strong white privilege must be if it has taken me 24 years to begin to see a reality different from my own. I simply never had to think about these things growing up, my Dad never instructed me how to act when being pulled over, even though African American dads all of the country have this conversation with their sons, "Hands on the steering wheel son, if asked for wallet move very very slowly, do not make eye contact, do not show disrespect, its a matter of life and death." I was told the police are my friends, and that a sincere apology would get me off the hook most every time, what a different reality I grew up in from my Black neighbors. Sometimes it feels like this conversation is turning my world inside out.
Can I post your comment in a new post on my blog. I feel that all of this expresses some of what I am learning.
Thanks Slapshot, yeah, it is a little confusing. I can't imagine what the stress must be like as a police officer, always looking for and seeing the worst part of my neighborhood. It must be emotionally scarring.
I'm sorry that racism exists. I don't understand why we can't all live and let live.
My heart hurts for you and Ashley and your community.
no problem to use the post.
Another incident occured that worked the other way:
I just got pulled over for doing 40 in a 25 zone. When the cop looked at me and I told him what I do, he said
"I wouldn't want to hurt you. . ." handed my license back and walked away. Bizarre.
Should I be grateful for my privilege? or ashamed? very tough to sort out.
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