The Color of My Face
Sunday, November 06, 2005
Late-breaking news! This just in from Sunday brunch!
I’m not exactly sure what i’m ranting about, to be honest. This story has so many things worth ranting about, but not in a self-righteous way. You’ll see once i tell you the story.
Jannine and i had brunch (well, more like lunch) today. In fact, i just got back. We went to Kitchenette uptown near Columbia. It’s a cute little cozy place that serves great comfort food. By cozy, i mean that it’s basically a long hallway with tables on either side with a narrow path between them. Being Sunday and for brunch/lunch, it was pretty crowded, and they were doing all they could to get as many people as possible in. That meant doubling up at tables. We were seated next to this older black couple who looked like they had just come from church.
Our hostess showed us to the seat, the gentleman stood up to let Jannine in to the inner seat of the four-person table, she said thank you, and then we all sat down. We continued to talk, but i noticed that the couple said nothing to each other. I thought it was strange, but chocked it up to being married for many years and being able to eat in silence together. Our waiter came and put down some waters for which we thanked him, and we continued to browse the menu.
Not long after the waiter left, the gentleman next to Jannine turned to us and preambled, “I want to start a dialogue with you two because you look like bright young women, and there is something I would like to say to you.” We both looked up surprised. Ok. Sure. What could he possibly have to say to us?
“When that young white boy brought you water, you said ‘thank you,’ but when you first came to sit at this table, i stood up and like a gentleman, let you take your seat, but you did not thank me. I feel affronted. Do i have to change the color of my face to get a show of gratitude? Is my service not worth as much to you as that white man’s?”
We both sat there staring at him, mouths agape with blank stares on our faces. What? It was the first time that anyone had directly confronted me about being racist, a term that i had hoped was the last thing you’d ever use to describe me. Yet here was this gentleman, obviously disturbed and upset by the fact that we did not show gratitude. The funny thing is, Jannine DID say thank you. It was just so noisy that he must not have heard.
We both apologized profusely, stating that it was not due to any racial discrimination but rather an oversight and perhaps rudeness for not saying thank you to begin with. We promised him that it was not intentional and that we would be more attuned to such things in the future. He accepted our apology graciously, and we continued our separate meals with a slight tension hanging over our heads. Yet his frustration/anger was palpable. You could stick out your tongue and taste it. (”...hmm, a tinge of bitter with some spice. Yup, it’s anger and frustration!")
So what am i ranting about?
Why did he automatically assume that it was a racial thing? I can see that it might have been reacting to our supposed rudeness, but what a lifetime of pain he must have experienced in order to jump to that conclusion that everyone sees things through the lenses of race.
What must it have been like to live his life and see the things that he has seen? I can’t assume anything, but being an older gentleman, i’m sure he’s lived through times that were not as friendly towards black people. I’m not saying things are ideal now, but in a lot of ways, the younger generations are less inclined to see things strictly by race (though far be it from me to say that racism is eradicated).
What presumption he had to assume that as Asian people that we would automatically prefer white people over black people. He was stereotyping us just as much as he thought we were stereotyping him! It’s as if he thought that our minority groups had no bad experiences with America, not to mention building a couple railroads in horrible conditions or being sent to work camps during World War II. I’m not saying it’s as long a history as blacks/slavery in the U.S., but it’s certainly not a glowing past of harmonious relationships.
This whole situation just made me feel sad and hurt for his emotional wounds. I appreciated that he was willing to say something and say it politely, and that he accepted our apology. I hope he understood that we were sincere. Still i wish he had never seen it that way to begin with.
I guess all i can do is pray that God heals the wounds of his past experiences and not take his accusation personally.
i have had many situations in my life that i have learned about racism in the most smallest actions. in business there was a time when i gave change to a african american woman and because i had a bag in my left hand i placed the money with my right hand onto the counter. she was clearly upset and when she gave me change, i had my right hand palm up as she deliberately placed the change on the counter and i had to reach down and pick up my change. i learned in places like mississippi merchants would never hand money to a black directly into their hand for fear of touching the skin of a black person. since that day i always extend my hand out with my money until the other party reaches out to receive the money.
Posted by on 11/06 at 04:45 PM