Whenever I put myself in the place of those men and women of color whose lives are disrupted harshly for no reason other than the unmanaged fear of a white person––I can fantasize doing something pretty ugly.
But of course I’m a spiritual guy. So I take two or three years and calm down. That’s what it feels like anyway. And along the way I ask myself: How would I want to respond if that happened to me?
The first time I asked that I got slapped. Hit by my own presumption. Put myself in the position of a person of color? I have no more ability to do that than I do of being a woman. Or anyone else who must live in a culture where intrenched beliefs compound, often dangerously, the challenges of living that are common to us all.
News stories abound. Waiting for a friend in a Philly Starbucks; taking a Colorado State college tour; napping in a Yale common room; being an Airbnb guest in California. Much less driving while black, or doing pretty much anything while a color other than white. What’s the equivalent for an elder paleface, a Mr. Rogers wannabe? There isn’t any, at least none that’s happened to me. Read More
