You Might Be Black in America

After quite a few conversations and discussions over the last month, I came to a thought. When most people think of racism in America, they think of the big events. The ones that make CNN or come up on your Twitter news feed. They are egregious. They are blatant. They leave no doubt that actors were in the wrong or that the world can do better.

The reality of being black in America is that racism often does not arise to that level, but it remains a steep climb, both ways. You have heard of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Trayvon Martin, Ahrmad Arbury, or Emmett Till. The thing is, though we are not these people, we live in a country where daily interactions remind us that at any time, we could be. The true reality of being black in America is that it is a daily grind, or more literally being ground down daily. It’s disheartening, and tiring. It’s an institution where racism becomes the expectation. One where micro-aggressions are used on a macro-scale, and every time you don’t wind up on the wrong side of a statistic, you overcome the odds that are inherently stacked against you.

Below is a list of personal experiences of my brothers and I, raised predominately in Dolton, (just south of Chicago) Illinois.

***To preface this, here’s a bit of background about all of us***

• We all graduated college.
• We all soon will have graduate degrees.
• We all have achieved levels of personal and professional success and still have aspirations of more.
• We all are black in America and are reminded very often of this fact.

So, I wanted to lay out some of these interactions. When thinking of them, I couldn’t help but be reminded of an old Jeff Foxworthy skit. His skit goes “you might be a redneck,” but I think of these as “you might be black in America.”

I’ll warn you. The comedy element is lost pretty quickly. What was startling was how quickly this list came together and how these are experiences of only three black men in America.

None made the news.

None were met with much regard outside of our family, and all served as reminders of the way that others view us in this country. All of them stay with us and inform our daily lives. They inform how we go out to eat, our future interactions with law enforcement, and how we raise and communicate with our families.

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If you’ve been pulled over for going 7, 5 or 3 over, (all of which are true), you might be black in America.

If you’ve tried to buy a new car and the first thing they told you, before asking your name is that you need a co-signer, you might be black in America. (For the record, it was a Chevy Malibu. At 26, I didn’t look like I was made of money but I wasn’t pricing out a Bugatti.)

If you’ve been pulled over for driving in the left lane while not passing, you might be black in America.

If your heart palpitates at the site of an all white Crown Victoria, Charger, or Explorer, you might be black in America.

If people have “complimented you” for speaking well or being articulate, because they are surprised by the combination of intelligence and skin color, you might be black in America.

If someone has been surprised to find out your profession does not require the dribbling or throwing of a ball, you might be black in America.

If you’ve been pulled over 4 times in 2 hours while driving a U-Haul, and subsequently had that U-Haul searched each time, you might be black in America.

If white people change the way they interact (instead of a regular handshake and “ Hello,” you get, “What’s up brother man,” with an added dap or some other pitifully shallow attempt at a diverse interaction 🤦🏾‍, you might be black in America.

If you go to a party or dance and you are the only black person on the dance floor, thus you are expected to be THE entertainment, you might be black in America.

If you are presumed to be an affirmative action hire until your credentials are vetted or proven, you might be black in America.

If your parents have given you advice, less keen on success and more worried about your general safety (don’t put your hands in your pockets, don’t wear your hood up, if pulled over, wait for the officer before you grab anything, always get a bag and a receipt when buying something, if you’re not going to buy it, don’t pick it up), you might be black in America.

If you were pulled over in January, in Wisconsin, and you let all the windows down and turn on all the lights before the officer approaches to proactively deescalate the situation, you might be black in America.

If you’ve “enjoyed” a personal chaperone while a salesperson follows you around a store, you might be black in America.

If you’ve had the police called on you for throwing away trash in a trash can, you might be black in America.

If you’ve been called a monkey, you might be black in America.

If you’ve been called a nigger for cutting someone off in traffic, you might be black in America.

If you’ve been called a nigger after moving to a predominately white neighborhood, you might be black in America.

If you’ve been called a nigger riding your bike to summer camp, at 10 years old, you might be black in America.

Let’s take a pause here. Obviously if you’ve been called a nigger, the odds are overwhelming that you’re black, but people, there are other things to call black people (Fella, man, buddy, asshole, or if a black person pisses you off….Child of God).

If you use a different voice at work as to make others more comfortable (white voice), you might be black in America.

If you’ve ever been accused of being a bully, aggressive, or attacking, by speaking your opinion, you might be black in America.

If you have to teach to your 4 year old son to never be an aggressor unless someone attacks first, for fear of the immediate and long lasting repercussions, you might be black in America.

If you’ve seen the vibe in a room change as your interracial family enters, you might be black in America.

If you have been the face of diversity and inclusion for an entire division at a company or major at a college, you might be black in America.

If you have ever had to answer every question on blackness and race because no one else in the classroom looks like you, you might be black in America.

If people cross the street or avoid eye contact while walking or jogging, despite living in the same neighborhood, you might be black in America.

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Looking at that list, I ask you, which of these have you experienced? Which would you want our friend, your father, or your child to experience? Well, black friends, parents and children experience them every day.

The above list is not exhaustive. It’ just a snap shot.

It is not limited to criminal justice, police, corporate policy, or “bad apples.” It is not restricted to large urban enclaves or rural America.

THIS IS AMERICA.

If you’ve made it this far and are still reading. First, we want to applaud you. The easy route is to put your head in the sand when it comes to uncomfortable topics; but you didn’t do that, which shows that you care enough know better. Hopefully, it also means that you want to do better.

Well here are some ideas.

You can call out the cashier who checks the $20 bill for the black man in front of you, but not yours. You can call out your friend at the hair salon who doesn’t understand why people are still protesting. You can give the black person you see on the street the same benefit of the doubt you would give their white counterpart. You can make sure others in your neighborhood feel welcome. You can do better, and the more people that do better, the higher we all raise the standard.

Massive change starts with minor action. You’ve already read this far, why not be the ripple that makes the wave happen.