White Space, Little Black Face

“For every stage of life there is a racist narrative you must deal with”

BOOM!!!

The whole shelf came crashing down.

November 2008. My daughter Luna is almost 2 and we are in the kids section of the now long-gone, Barnes and Noble on 6th ave and 8th street, NYC.

Being a writer and avid reader, I’ve always loved Barnes and Noble… til that day.

Til that day when I realized this…

For every stage of life there is a racist narrative you must deal with.

In 2008 I was a new mom. I had Luna less than 2 years before, so this whole Toddler-in-the-City thing was a whole new game.

Me — Luna Tuna let’s hit Barnes and Noble.

Luna — What’s that Mama?

Me — It’s a book store

Luna clapped her hands with glee. We really did have the BEST times

We rolled up on Barnes and Noble right after lunch and immediately ran to the kids section. We sat on the floor while I read story after story. A dozen moms and nannies all around us did the same.

Halfway through “The Giving Tree” Luna touched my hand to stop.

Luna — Mama look

She pointed up.

I looked up. The whole shelf above us was wavered back and forth like a shaky building.

I gasped, shot up like a jack-in-the-box and moved just as the whole shelf came crashing to the ground.

BOOM!!!

It was quiet. Luna, in my arms, and I were in complete shock.

As I stepped back to assess the damage around us, a young white female clerk ran up to us.

I sighed relief knowing someone else saw what happened.

Clerk — What happened?

Me — I don’t know, the whole shelf came down

Clerk — Well how did that happen?

Me —Uh… I don’t know

But her voice made me uneasy.

Clerk — Well how did it happen? What did you do???

I was pissed.

Me — No, you mean “ARE YOU OK?”…right???…Me and my baby?

It was quiet. The she got downright persnickety.

Clerk — What did you do to knock the shelf down?

I could feel the worst cusses about to fly our my mouth and at that time I was still trying not to curse in front of my kids.

I brushed past her and yelled out.

Me — Is there a manager in here?

The clerk rushed after me.

Clerk — Keep your voice down!

Me — Shut up and leave us alone!

A mid 40's, small white man in an argyle sweater and salt and pepper hair rushed up to us.

Before he could speak I blurted out…

Me — Are you the manager?

Manager — Yes I am, Are you OK? I heard a big crash

Me — THANK YOU! My baby and I ARE OK. …Thank you

He rubbed my shoulder and looked past me at the shelf.

I told him about the shelf and the clerk’s response and his face stiffened.

Manager — I am so sorry. That’s NOT the question she should be asking. I’m so sorry. Are you sure you and your baby are OK?

I sighed.

Me — We’re fine…thank you

He ended up apologizing 2 more times but on the third apology the clerk tried to interrupt our conversation right as I was speaking.

Clerk — Jim lemme tell you what hap-

Me — Oh NO you don’t!!!

It was quiet.

The manager looked at her like “Why are you here?” and she slunked away.

It wasn’t the last time I dealt with THAT in a Barnes and Noble.

Barnes and Noble in Union Square — Luna was now 3.5. I sat on the floor reading books after having scones and tea in the Cafe. A young white female clerk approaches me.

Union Square Clerk — Excuse me

I look up from the kids book.

Me — Yes?

USC — You can’t just sit in this aisle and read books. You’re blocking the path

I look around me. There’s a SEA of moms, all white, spread out out on the floor JUST LIKE ME.

USC — You’re gonna have to move

I don’t like this.

Me — OK… right after you tell all these other white moms to move. I’ll do it then.

Her eyes widen and she blinks hard.

USC — Miss you’re gonna have to-

I cut her off.

Me — Go get your manager

She makes that “Holy Hell” face some women make when they can’t believe what someone just said.

Then she storms off.

She comes back with a older hippie-ish white lady in an Indian skirt and clogs.

Older White Lady Manager — Excuse Miss is there a problem?

Me — Not at all. Is everything OK with you?

She looks at the USC with confusion.

USC — (hand on her hips) I told her she needs to move and she got an attitude with me

OWLM — (sighs) OK…Miss can you move out the aisle?

Me — Sure…. as soon as you ask the other 10 or 15 white moms and their kids to move out the SAME aisle. Then I will know this is legit.

Her mouth falls in shock but she KNOWS. She and the USC look at all the other white moms who are now looking at them like “What’s going on?” and the pair walk away.

Luna — Mama should we move?

Me — No. We should read 3 more books

She smiles.

But it gets better.

A few weeks later I try another Barnes and Noble on the upper west side around 96th street.

I step over a pile of book someone’s left and right as I pull out my favorite Sandra Boyton book, a white male clerk rounds the aisle.

White Male Clerk — Excuse me are you gonna put these books back?

Me — (chuckling) No.

WMC — Why?

Me — Because I didn’t pull them out and I don’t work here

He sighs and walks away.

Two months later I stroll into the same book store to get a cook book and a Black security guard stops me.

Security — Excuse me!

Me — (taken back) Huh?….What’s wrong?

Security — We don’t have a children’s section

Me — I’m not here for the children’s section but um, yes you DO have one

Security — Well, uh…

Me — What’s the problem, like what’s going on?

Security — Well we’ve had a problem with nannies lately

Me — Really?…What’s that got to do with me?

He’s quiet.

Me — You not letting Black women into the store…Brotha???

His eyes narrow that I’ve just shamed him. And after he looks down at Luna in her stroller, he steps aside and opens the door for us.

I walk in and forget all about the Nigella Lawson cookbook I was looking for because I’m freaking furious.

I start adding up the times I’ve had Casual Racism incidents at Barnes and Noble…Four.

FOUR!

When you’re a Black child or in the presence of a Black child the racist assumption is that Black children are bad, misbehaving hoodrats.

And sometimes you are treated as such.

Just how when you’re a young Black woman you are sometimes treated like you are loud, promiscuous, argumentative or a shoplifter.

Just how when you’re young black man you are treated like a thug, a common criminal.

Being Black all my life, I of course KNEW racism would find my daughter.

I just thought she had more of a grace period.

I was wrong.

And it wasn’t just book stores.

I’ve had white moms in playgrounds in Park Slope treat me with total indifference.

The summer after my son was born in 2012 I picked up Luna from a very cool day camp in Prospect Park. I’d take her to the 3rd Street Playground every day until I realized why I was so uncomfortable.

They other moms, all white, didn’t even bother to smile hello to me like they did every other white woman that walked through the gate because they assumed I was a Caribbean nanny…. and didn’t matter.

In fact I was the only Black woman there with her own child and no one was friendly.

I actually said hello to several moms. They returned the hello but that was it.

They didn’t engage me like they did the other women, often strangers til then. It was COLD.

I stopped going.

Here in New York the playgrounds are as different as the neighborhoods. If you ever wanna know who REALLY lives around that apartment you’re looking at, just peep who’s going down the slide.

We’re living in a time where racism is not only casual like my experiences, but OVERT.

Trumpism has brought every half-assed, idiot cretin from under their rocks to falsely bask in the glow of whiteness.

They call the police on us like 911 is White Folks Costumer Service.

45 didn’t create racism but he sure did fan the flames. And considering I can trace my roots back in American way further than Donald Trump I find his blustering ass highly offensive

But guess what?

All these incidents of racism that happenmed to me were from Liberal White Folks in Liberal ass NYC.

You know the ones that allegedly aren’t racist!

And they will scream from the hills that they aren’t racist. They will find SOME WAY to justify their attitude and questions.

In my experience, questions are the first red flag when sussing out rascim.

The fact that someone in a real or perceived position of authority even HAS questions for you, shows they believe you are someone to be QUESTIONED.

And that they are someone who deserves ANSWERS

But (clap) You (clap) Don’t (clap) Run (clap) Me (clap) Boo! (clap)

The last time I dealt with Toddler-In-The-City Casual Racism I was at a different playground in Union Square (again!) with Luna and Razi. We were waiting for a desperately late friend and their kids. Razi was 3, Luna was 8.

Razi and Luna climbed the big silver dome, struggling to make it to the devilishly smooth top.

Along came a white lady with her blond son. He was cute, and appeared to be the same age as Razi.

The boys saw each other and rushed towards each other to play in the nearby stone steps that lead to a slide.

I smiled and laughed.

Me — (calling to him) Oh Bud, you made a little friend!!

Razi smiles back at me.

The Boy’s Mom, small and Blond with khaki pants and yellow Izod shirt , approached me with a tense smile.

Boy’s Mom — Hi

Me — How ya doing?

BM — Pretty good

She looks like she wants to say something but can’t

I watch Razi and her son slide down the slide, hitting their butts on the padded ground. They laugh with delight.

BM — Um….does your son hit? Like.. will he hit my son?

I’m pissed but my Inner Bitch is rising.

Me — No, he doesn’t hit. Does your son go to other lands and kidnap Black people?

Her face turns beet red.

I turn away and laugh.

Because I have questions too.

#The System

#YesIAMThatMom