Addressing Your Fear Of Black Men
Maybe I had my head in the sand. Maybe it was the fact that I had a 5-year window where I didn’t have a TV, but before Trayvon Martin in 2012, I was woefully unaware of the widespread nature of the epidemic black men faced at the hands of vigilante assholes or cops. Since then I, like many other people I know took to Facebook with my outrage every time another life was taken. I express my fear for my own kids of color. I rant, I rave, I say their names: Tamir Rice, Aton Sterling, Eric Garner, Mike Brown, Philandro Castille! I even showed up at a March or two. But a week later, I move on. I mean, in today’s America, there is so much to be angry about. I get distracted by something Orange Tweeter Fingers does and I forget until that next murder occurs.
The root cause of many of these unjustified shooting is fear of Black Men. If we are honest, we all harbor a little extra fear, caution, prejudice or whatever you want to call it, when it comes to black men. If you answer here is no, I call bullshit and ask you to examine yourself a little further. This is not about finger pointing. We are all programmed by the environment in which we live and on this topic, the media does us no favors. The criminalize and demonization of black men in the media is rampant.
So in keeping with my promise to take some small action (SMACTION) to help change the things that anger me daily, I decided that I was going to examine my own interactions with and treatment of black men. So truth be told, I have very few black male close friends. Truth be told, I have very few close straight male friends period. I went from hanging with the GLBT(QIA didn’t exist back then) folks in college, to living in Andersonville, a very gay and lesbian neighborhood, to living in hipster Suburbia, where we are all too busy over-programming our kids, working and trying hard to be or at least appear to be socially conscious, to form friendships that go beyond the occasional play date chat or potluck banter. So when I tried to examine my interaction with black men, I really boiled it down to random men I pass on the street or the occasional black dad at drop off. I made myself note the feelings that came up every time I interacted with black men. After the first week of my own little self-research, I realized something I had been literally blocking out for close to 20 years. I discovered, that I was subconsciously but consistently avoiding eye contact when I came across a Black man on the street. I would turn my head and avert my eyes to the ground or in the distance. It took me some time to unearth why and I know you are dying to know the reason, but that is a topic unto itself and I’ll leave that for a future blog post. (Insert link to post about My Body) But regardless of my somewhat justified reason, I had literally been ignoring Black Men for almost two decades. I had been saying with my body language that Black men were not worthy of my acknowledgment. As a black immigrant lesbian, I knew that being ignored or marginalized sucked. If I was a black woman was ignoring black men I interacted with, what the hell were they getting from white folks?
My follow up SMACTION, I decided, was to make a concerted effort to acknowledge and greet every black man I encountered. That meant eye contact, a nod, a smile, a comment on the weather or whatever seemed appropriate given the situation. While this was of course not going to prevent any black men from being shot by cops, I was controlling the one thing I could; my own stereotypes and fears which is mirrored by so many in society.
I announced my plan to my wife like a giddy teenager. She questioned the rationale of my plan to pretty much flirt with every black man in town. “What’s your point? What are you hoping to accomplish?”
Going out of my way to avoid eye contact, was conveying the message, “You are not even worthy of a first glance far less of an acknowledgment of your humanity.” This was not my intention, but I was acting out of a fear created by my childhood experiences and my intention didn’t change the reality of how it may be received. There is a certain dignity you grant someone by simply acknowledging their presence, I wanted to return that dignity to black men I encountered.
I encourage you all to take a look at your relationship with black men. Again, I’m not talking about your neighbor, the black guy you have known for 15 years. Most of us don’t have straight up racist tendencies. I’m talking about the Black Male collective. The unknown black male.
So I attacked my Smaction with not too much gusto to get myself date requests, but enough to get some head nods and smiles in return. I went from feeling like an awkward Steve Urkel at the beginning trying to have a conversation with a girl, to giving a sincere, “Hello, have a nice day!” I began to feel my heart open a bit. I was letting in a subset of people I had previously iced out. My intended act of kindness and bestowing of dignity was helping heal something within me as well.
I encourage you all to take a look at your relationship with black men. Again, I’m not talking about your neighbor, the black guy you have known for 15 years. Most of us don’t have straight up racist tendencies. I’m talking about the Black Male collective. The unknown black male. What are the feelings that come up for you? Are there any subconscious actions or thoughts? How would making a conscious effort to acknowledge and interact with Black Men impacted your thinking?
I have been practicing this for a few of months now and a funny thing happened last week. I took my kids for ice cream on a particularly warm fall day. We were walking with the ice cream when a young black man walked out of another store carrying a bubble tea. He looked at my girls and extended his tea. “Do you want to trade?” he said, gesturing to their ice cream. They both smiled shyly and said nothing. “Say hello girls, and have a nice afternoon!” I said, beaming a little excessively at the young man. Uncharacteristically, my girls still stayed silent. Then he said, “Good for you girls! Never talk to strangers!” and with that, he waved and headed to his car. I could not help but laugh at the irony of that interaction. Make plans and the universe laughs right? I however, will continue my quest to acknowledge the light in every one I meet but especially those who may be passed over by others.
