It was mid-February, and we were on the train, riding from Liverpool back to London. I enjoy people watching, and imagining what the lives of the people around me are like. Whether in an airport, hotel lobby, subway, or restaurant, there is never a shortage of people to imagine about. The train ride was approximately two hours, so I had extra time to observe the two teenagers sitting across the isle and diagonal to us.
From my vantage point, and perspective, they seemed a bit obnoxious. Not because they did anything wrong, but they were louder than the other passengers. Every few minutes, they would erupt into a raucous laughter that made me think maybe they had been talking about us.
They were dressed differently. Different than us, anyway. Even though my husband and I were dressed in casual clothes, the same as them, their attire was sloppy and teenage trendy. Their hair was unkempt, yet styled…How is that even possible? They had piercings and tattoos. All in all, their personalities were edgy, and they seemed a bit sketchy to me.
Just before we arrived in London, a conversation was struck up between the four of us. I’m not sure who asked first, but we began to tell them that we were from the U.S. They asked where in the U.S., and we told them Tennessee. The young man said he didn’t know where that was, but the girl immediately said, “Oh, I know where that is! That’s where they don’t like black people!”
This was so not what I expected her to say. It felt like a slap in the face. I immediately and defensively responded with, “That’s not true!,” not being able to think of anything more eloquent or explanatory to say. She was very adamant in her viewpoint, and didn’t hesitate to come back at me with, “Yes, it IS true! I learned about it in world history. You all hate black people.”
The train had already pulled into the London Station, and everyone was standing up and grabbing their bags. I wanted to defend myself and my people by assuring her that I had plenty of black friends, I use to attend a church with a one-third black congregation, I’m one of the least prejudiced people she would ever meet, and would my black friends please stand up and vouch for me?!?!
In the end, all I had time to lamely call over my shoulder as we went one way, and they went another was, “That was a long time ago!” She called something back to me in reply. I didn’t make it out completely, but I think it was something to the effect of, “Sure. Whatever,” with an eye roll. Rotten kids.
I was so embarrassed. And offended. I had been wrongly labeled by a ragged, obnoxious, hole-punched misfit…whoooo apparently was well studied in world history, and wasn’t afraid to speak out against injustice wherever she perceived it…Heavy sigh…I was busted. Ironic, isn’t it, that I was offended at being labeled by the very people who I had been labeling for the last two hours?
The truth is I really don’t consider myself prejudiced, at all. The truth is I do have plenty of black friends, as well as many other shades of color from all over the world. I hope they know that I love them, and that I don’t consider myself better than they are in any way.
The truth is also that to not say anything is actually saying a whole lot. Not saying anything is saying, “I don’t want to get involved in your difficulty. The truth is that racism is still a HUGE deal in the U.S., and we must say so, and stand against it. Saying nothing is saying a lot.
“Then Peter opened his mouth, and said, Of a truth I perceive that God is no respecter of persons: But in every nation he that feareth him, and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him.” (Acts 10:34-35)
“After this I beheld, and, lo, a great multitude, which no man could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, stood before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands;” (Revelation 7:9)
#georgefloyd #icantbreathe #endracism
