Seriously?

Thanks a lot, America. Every single day I wake up and ask myself will this be the day. Will this be the day something goes wrong on my day to day walk of life being a black man. Will this be the day that I’m at the grocery store, while I’m in the produce section trying to determine which avocado is worthy of my toast in the morning and someone says something to me that will set off a chain of events that may end my life? Will this be the day I go to grab a shopping cart and unknowingly reach for a cart that someone else was reaching for and they get upset and want to harm me over something as trivial as a shopping cart? Is this the day that someone gets upset with me for asking politely if they could remove themselves from my personal space at the check out line because there is no reason at all for me to be able to feel your breath on the back of my neck.

Is this the day that I crumbled up the receipt and toss it in a near by trash bin and a sales associate thinks I didn’t pay for a certain item so they chase me down and asks to see my receipt? Not even thinking about it telling them that I don’t have one and they call the police on me for not having proof of my purchase. Crazy right?! Crazy that someone even has to think about that sort of thing. I bet all of my white friends don’t even think about things like that. Ever. I tell you what I know to be true, this will be the day and every single day after it that I always have to shrink myself down to make myself seem less threatening to the older white couple on the cereal aisle. Or maybe as I’m reaching for a gallon of organic milk it’s not a good idea to make eye contact with that woman so always staying focused on what I’m here to do. That’s just the grocery store! 

How about you come along with me as I go about my every day life! You would be surprised, or maybe you won’t. I wake up in the morning and get dressed. Let’s talk about what I wear for work. I wear nice jeans, a nice button down and maybe a tie if I’m feeling myself that day. I would love to wear jeans that are distressed that have a few holes in the leg because that’s the style! You see them every where when you’re out clothes shopping. I don’t buy them because I don’t want to seem threatening in anyway when it comes to my wardrobe. Hoodies? Absolutely not. I’ve had the same hoodie for years that almost looks brand new because it’s never been worn. 

Flashy tennis shoes? Absolutely not. Someone might think that I’m in a gang if I have too many colors on my shoes. Speaking of gangs, I alway have on a belt for my pants so they don’t sag because I don’t want people to think that I’m in a gang! I also keep a belt in my bag and one at work in my desk just in case for some reason I slipped up and didn’t wear one into work. Back up belts! If something happened in the news the night before where some person of color was shot and killed for any reason I usually really amp up my attire the next day. A nice sweater vest with some khaki slacks and a matching Oxford shoe. Hair? Yeah, hair is a thing that I’m concerned about too. You know what I’ve wanted my whole life? Locs. I never was able to have them because my schools from grade school and up always had them on the list of “things that are not appropriate for this institution” in the student handbook. I was forced to have the same haircut for years of a simple close cut that never changed. I remember one summer I begged my Mom to let me grow my hair out so I could have an afro. I remember buying a pick and all the proper hair care products for my new obsession. I nearly cried when she told me she made an appointed me for a haircut the week before school. I was hoping she would forget but if you think a black Mother is going to forget something that might for any reason at all hinder your education you can forget about it. So alas I dawn a low cut so I don’t look threatening when I’m walking into lobby of my job. 

None threatening for when I make eye contact with the front desk security guard so he can feel safe to buzz me in so I can make my way to the elevators. Ugh, elevators. You know what I long for when it comes to elevators? Me being alone in them. If I’m by myself I don’t have to worry about having to make myself invisible. I don’t have to stand in the far right corner and worry if I’m making any of my coworkers uncomfortable. I don’t have to pretend to be looking at something extremely important on my cellphone so when the person enters the elevator they might think, “well, he’s clearly too busy to harass me so it should be fine for me to get on”. 

Don’t have to worry about a white woman clutching her purse because she’s afraid that I want her dusty bag filled with cough drops and and Altoids and an empty wallet that has more cat hair and receipts than money inside. Finally making my way into the office so I can greet people and happy and positive as I can because heavens forbid if I’m having an off day. My coworkers will immediately think I have an “angry black man” attitude which might lead to HR being called. So here I am, smiling from ear to ear telling people good morning and hope every one has a good day. Not being able to respond when someone is clearly disrespecting me or talking down to me because that’s also categorized as an angry black man attitude that can get a phone call from HR.

Clean and crisp and smiling is how you will find me at my job. I have a meeting today with the leads of my department. I have to know my job and know theirs as well because I don’t want them to see me as lazy. That is a stereotype that is looked upon of people of color. Too bad I can’t receive money for two positions! I guess that’s another story! After work is done I need to head back downstairs on that elevator and try to get a cab. I don’t have a car because I’m living in a pretty big city. Public transportation is my way of getting from point A to point B. Hailing a cab can be tricky. It’s hard to get one right in front of my job so I usually have to walk a few blocks away to a busier street. There I wave my arms around like I’m bucking to be a bird in my next life. I’ve had a few taxi cab drivers look me dead in my face and drive off after stopping to pick me up. It’s pretty funny. A cab driver once gave me a hug because I tipped him. He told me “your people never tip!!!”. Yikes. The things we go through being black in this country are unbelievably ridiculous at times. I took a cab today because I wanted to get home in a timely fashion so I can make it to the gym. 

The gym is in walking distance of my apartment so it’s not too hard navigating the streets to get there. I use to jog to the gym with my noise cancellation headphones on until a police officer was trying to get my attention who was behind me. I spare no expense when it comes to good headphones. I’m a fan of the bass so I want headphones that deliver the perfect low end to my ears! As I was jogging I was blasting Fishbone as loud as possible and never heard him say a word. I was just in front of the door of the gym and I felt someone tug really hard at my arm. It caught me off guard so I turned around and saw it was an officer. My heart felt like it had dropped out of my chest and was running back to my apartment to hide under the bed! The officer immediately apologized to me and told me he made a mistake, I wasn’t who he was looking for. He also told me I might want to turn the volume down a bit so it wouldn’t happen again. I thought to myself, I’ll do you one even better, I won’t be wearing these headphones outside the house or the gym ever again. I won’t even explain me at the gym because it’s a lot like me in the elevator. In the corner trying not to draw attention to myself. Not getting too loud whilst lifting weights or grunting too much, invisibility is key. 

After the gym I usually will treat myself with a sugary cup of coffee and a scone from a coffee shop that’s on the way back home close to my apartment. I make sure I’m presentable after the gym as much as I can with workout clothes on. I wouldn’t want the patrons on the coffee shop to think I was an unkept man because that would surely lead to a police officer visit in which I would have to explain my situation which they probably wouldn’t listen to anyways. I’d surely get hauled off to the “pokey”!! Luckily I’ve been in the shop enough that all of the workers know me by name and great me with a smile when I do come in so I guess they can vouch for me if something were to happen. I don’t like leaving my odds blowing in the wind when it comes to my life. I know plenty of people who would think, “there is no way things like this happens to you every single day!”. Guess what? I’d love to say you’re right! It doesn’t, but I would be lying to you and I don’t think it’s okay to lie to people especially since the truth is the easiest story told. 

It’s very easy to tell a story about when I was a child walking around a local business that everyone went to for anything! The main reason myself and my friends went is for the stick candy they sold. It was like candy canes but they had no peppermint flavors and they didn’t have the traditional candy cane hooks. They had cherry, grape, orange and something that I’d imagine resembled lemon. One day we noticed that one of the sales associates were hanging around where we were. Being kids we didn’t know they were following us around to make sure we didn’t steal anything. We just assumed they were doing their jobs but as we got older it was pretty clear what they were doing. Once I figured out exactly what was going on I found myself less and less interested in going back. I even walked around many sections of the store to make sure I wasn’t being dramatic. I walked in, walked straight to the candy section and I saw eyes at the end of the aisle looking at me. Walked to a section of the store where I’ve gotten replacement bicycle inner tubes for when I had been too rough on my bike and I needed a new one. This time they were a little bit closer to me. Trying to play it off by straightening up a section of bicycle horns that ever kid eventually begged for to add to the noise pollution of your day to day bike rides. I walked quickly to the section that they sold shoes at to see if they would trip over themselves to get to that section too. I wasn’t there for more than a minute when I see the same sales associate tying laces of the shoes that were on display. That was my last day for that store. Never went back in there. As a matter of fact I don’t even know if the store is still standing and could care less if it’s not. 

That’s just a fraction of things that go through my mind navigating the world while being black. I wake up on a daily basis trying to figure out how to make it as easy as possible to get to another day. That’s half the battle, right? Survival! I wonder how many of my friends go through the same exact senecios. I try to remain positive because these stories can go really dark really fast. There’s only so much someone can take to stay out of the darkness of what if. My what is can be very frightening at times so there is no need for me to go too deep. As I fall asleep trying not to think about all the hoops that I will have to jump through the next day I force myself to push my thoughts aside to get a good nights sleep. Thanks a lot, America.