When You Love Somebody(ies)

“People think bodies in service positions are ENSLAVED and treat them with less humanity than the uncle that raped them at 10.”

He was tall and young, like YOUNG YOUNG. The kind of young that makes you say “That’s somebody’s child”.

“Miss, come down to aisle two”.

He motioned to the right and my husband and I left aisle 7 and trekked down to aisle 2 where Tall and Young waited for us.

Right away I noticed how thoughtful he was, making room for the bags we brought ourselves. He was even apologetic.

“I’m sorry there’s not much room here” he said.

Our eyes met and right away I told him it was fine.

The Wegmans is as packed as it can be with social distancing. Here in Brooklyn we stand 5 feet from each person on a line that snakes down the block. It’s like this in most major cities now. We thought we were early.

Guess everyone had the same idea.

COVID19… we are on edge in New York. 40 percent of the country’s cases and DEATHS are ours.

While my husband pays I notice Tall and Young has no face mask.

Me — Honey where’s your mask?

I see his name tag. “ELIJAH” it reads.

Elijah — They don’t give us any

Wait….what?? You mean to tell me in this moment where Black folks are 70 percent of the bodies in those temporary street side morgues, Wegmans is NOT providing their VERY Black staff with proper PPE?

Me — They don’t give you masks???!!!

He pointed to the new plastic partial partition.

Elijah — We have that

I’m pissed.

I waited tables for twenty years on and off. As someone that grew up middle class it wasn’t expected I’d wait tables but I’m an artist… so those class rules go out the window after you split paths with those professionally-minded people you grew up with. They get jobs on their career path while you work shifts looking for a big break.

The years I waited tables made me see a whole population outside myself. I saw home health aides, MTA employees, delivery people and supermarket clerks.

Essential workers…Most of them Black and brown. And NO ONE sees them.

Oh they see you when they need you. Like “Where is that girl? I spilled something”. But people really don’t see you as a real person.

You are an Invisible Person.

I have so many tales of waiting tables as an Invisible Person we could be here all day, but let me just tell you I’ve had people do everything short of change a tampon in front of me. I had a woman spit gum in my hand when I delivered food to the table. I had a woman hand me an open shitty diaper at an outdoor cafe and a man refuse to tip me because I wouldn’t give him my last Tylenol after he saw me gulp one down at the waitress station.

People think bodies in service positions are ENSLAVED and treat them with less humanity than the uncle that raped them at 10. It’s been a dozen years since I was an essential worker and this afternoon in Wegmans I became enraged.

I looked down the vast market as a dozen clerks rang up everyone’s food. All Black, no masks.

God damn

So I went home and got some for Elijah. Ran up in my apartment past my kids, grabbed the spare ones and put them in a ziplock bag.

I told Elijah I’d be sending him a mask but I knew it couldn’t wait. Why take the time to mail a mask when he’s exposed every minute?

He needed it RIGHT THEN.

You see I love Black people. I actually love ALL people because God created us all. But systemic racism means that many folks think they love Black folks but their actions speak otherwise.

You can’t endanger very young Black people by providing them NOTHING to protect themselves in a pandemic but give your mostly white, upwardly mobile shoppers every protection…and call that Love.

A month from now half your staff could be in the ditches they are digging at Hart’s Island but those shi shi snacks will still be at the register. And that’s how systemic racism works. It gives no room or thought to the lives of Black people. It’s the length family-friendly corporations travel to display kindness and protection for human smiles while looking at Black people and switching their tune to “Personal Responsibility”.

We’ve seen this time and time again. Crack addiction? Black and criminal. Opioid addiction? An American health crisis. Prostitution in urban areas? Crime. The suburbs? Trafficking. Hell it took Liam Neeson running through Europe chasing his English Rose-looking daughter for many Americans to even look at prostitution for what it’s always been…Trafficking.

This lack of PPE for Black people that were in pull-ups and strollers during 9/11 felt deliberate. It felt careless. It felt deliberately careless.

I ran back in the store with a ziplock bag of two masks and gloves. The security guard was kind but cautious. I had bypassed the long line snaked outside.

Me — Excuse me officer. I need to get PPE to Elijah at register 2.

He nodded and waved me in with a smile that said “Of course” and down the aisle I went.

Elijah was bagging up groceries for another mom. He looked up at me and did a double take.

Me — I told you I’d bring you a mask

He smiled like Christmas.

Elijah — (partial disbelief) Whoa!!

That made me laugh.

Me — Honey you got two masks and gloves. So you got a spare or you can give it to a -

Before I could finish he was giving the second pair to his friend. That made me tear up……..yes Elijah.

I took their picture and they instantly reminded me of my half dozen nephews. Strong, young and full of “What’s Next?”

Me — I know y’all got mamas but I’m your Mama today!

We all laughed but I meant it. Young people need adults to look at things, say “This ain’t right” and actually do something. This is the JOB of adults. I am an adult.

And when I was young aunties, uncles, friends, neighbors and teachers ALL did the kindest things for me and now is the time for me to notice the babies and do what I can, where I can, whenever I can.

I love people.

I absolutely love Black people.

And Black people are Somebodies

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And Wegmans…get your shit together

STAT

#YesIamThatMom

#TheStraightTruth