“It is not hard to learn more. What is hard is to unlearn when you discover yourself wrong.” ~Martin H. Fischer
This would be a good story if I were to write the book that I really want to write. Danny will ask how my writing is going and it is not going as well as it should be going. I should be a little more focused and yet I find myself in that awful place where I know exactly what I would like to write and yet I am unable to find all the words. I can see how the story and chapters will flow together and yet getting it on paper is the difficult part. It’s either that I’m busy and there is no time or a shiny piece of paper that catches my eye. I’m happy that I know where the story is and can see how it might come to pass but nothing comes.
Last Monday I went to Manhattan – the city of dreams – for an event. I was uncomfortable because I couldn’t breathe out of my nose* and because of the venue of the event and the way the crotch of my tights ended up in some precarious spot almost to the hem of my dress. So there were a lot of things going oh so wrong including my gait which looked something like someone shoved a stick up my ass.
So while I would have rather been at home – naked of course – I found myself somewhere I did not want to be. But I was all for making it the best it could be and the event space had limited cell coverage so I couldn’t even complain. There was a lot of sitting and loneliness and a sudden epiphany about a large part of my life. I am sitting here having this existential crisis (who am I? why am I on this Earth?) when a nice gentleman and his wife come and sit at my table.
It’s fine. I suppose. I am not one for talking to strangers but I took every ounce of energy that I had to converse with this man. He wanted to discuss the stimulus package and health care. So we chatted and he discovered that I am not a labor or economic analyst so I do not know why the stimulus didn’t work but I am sure that there are several conservative blogs who might have an excellent answer for you. Meanwhile the people across from us – a young, black high school male and an older gentleman who is a lawyer – are discussing how Yale might be better for ‘young black kids’ than Columbia. But I (attempt to) ignore.
A mutual friend came over to chat. We did some ribbing and bullshitting back and forth about whether or not I write adult porn on the Internet** and then our mutual friend left. Fine. Venture Capitalist (the man sitting next to me) and I continue chatting away about social media and why women aren’t all that involved in the health care debate. I tell him that a site I write for has had a great initiative during this health care debate to allow female bloggers – primarily moms – to ask questions of House and Senate members.
All of this sounds like very nice conversation right? Like why am I boring you with this story because it is all very normal and dare I say boring. But I haven’t gotten to the best part. The part where we are still having boring conversation but the conversation turns to Congress.
Venture Capitalist ask what got me interested in congress and I tell him the short story that when I was 11 I happened upon C-SPAN and got hooked. Since then I have wanted to be a member of congress and do not get me started at the way I was drooling while watching health care debate yesterday because it would have been so fucking awesome to have been there. He sits back and smiles at my congress love. You probably do not find such love and towards the House as you will find from me.
So he is still smiling at me broadly. He takes a sip of ice tea and turns to me still smiling. “You know…” he says “You should so it”
I smile back and shrug.
“No really, you should run for congress”
“…Perhaps” with another smile.
“You are very articulate for a young black woman you really need to run for congress”
“…..” I sip my water and in my mind the water has turned into a pint glass of Ketel One and there is this burning feeling on the back of my neck.
“You can obviously put together a thought and articulate an argument very well and we need more black women in congress”
“….” More water. Water that has yet to turn into vodka. I’m smiling so hard but my chest is pounding. Because what the fuck do you say to that? What is the proper response when someone tells you that you seem really fantastic for your race? Thank you? Do I shove my foot up his nose? What?
So all of this happens on top of everything else and now I’m holding a water glass like my life depends on it. I’m fucking squeezing the glass and my brain is moving readily trying to find a response. Nothing. My brain can come up with nothing. So I thank him. I then ask him to excuse me. He politely stands up and I leave the room. I don’t just leave for the bathroom but I leave the building.
I call Chris. I call my mother. And now that I have cell phone service I tell Twitter that saying that someone is great for their race, is NOT a compliment. I know that he wasn’t trying to intentionally be mean. I do. He was trying to be nice but I am trying to do my job. I have worked my ass off to have the job that I have and it isn’t because I’m great for my race. It’s because I’m getting better at what I do. That is all. I don’t want to feel like I’m only doing something because I am black or young or female. I want to feel like I’m doing something because I have a brain. I want to feel like I am doing something because I went to a great school and I did what I had to do to get through college and to graduate with a resume that I could be happy with.
So yes, it’s funny. Funny in that way that the totally fucking absurd things in life can be hilarious. There was some laughing of course. It’s hard not to laugh when someone says something that makes your eyes bug out. And yet…I don’t know…I’m not hurt I’m just shocked. I’m shocked that people still say this and I am shocked that this isn’t the first time. What is that? You mean I never told you about how I was at a different event and someone told me that they needed me to move up to where the cameras could see me because they needed more ‘color’ up there? No? If nothing else I make an excellent young black woman and if you need a little diversity for your event then I can meet your needs.
*I am feeling much, much better. Thanks for asking.
**That is an entirely different story where someone assumed that I wrote ‘adult’ things on the Internet. He was disappointed to learn that I do not.
21 Comments
I just…I forget. I honestly forget that there are still people who think and say things like that.
I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me because you hear people say similar things about women all the time–there was a lot of that in the primaries, I think–and it makes sense that if there are still people stupid enough to think those things about sex surely there are still people stupid enough to think those things about race, and you hear it less only because sexism is more socially acceptable.
The point is, I’m sorry. You are smart and articulate, period. For a human of any sort.
The thing is that I do not feel special in anyway. I feel like I worked hard and that is all. And that people think that it is only because I am young and/or female and/or black kind of hurts my feelings. How about I am articulate and well spoken because I went to excellent schools? Why can’t it just be that? I’m always the anomaly and needless to say I’m a little sick of it.
Also thank you for course for thinking that I am smart and articulate because I AM smart and articulate. It’s ok to say that about yourself, right? Right.
I hope this isn’t offensive, but I feel like this is the compliment version of “I have ________ friends” (insert black, gay, etc.).
I agree 100% that your effort, your hard work, your natural talent should be what’s praised and recognized here, race and gender and everything else aside. It’s not nearly on the same level, but I get a lot of, “You’re a really effective educator for being 26.” Um, I work my ass off. I should be effective, thanks. I wish people could just recognize things for what they are, qualifying statements aside.
The thing that is saddest, perhaps, is that this gentleman doesn’t probably realize that there is anything wrong with what he said; in fact, he probably thinks he made your day.
This comment is all over the place, sorry! xo
Hey, let’s stop calling him a gentleman and start calling him something more appropriate like, I don’t know, dumb cracker?
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!
I honestly don’t even know what to say. I’m just flabbergasted.
But you are pretty awesome. For our race, I mean…
I am so sorry. That sucks. That sucks in a big way. There is so much implied in a comment like that. It reminds me of the time Bill O’Reilly acted surprised by the “civily” of people in a Harlem restaurant. Barf.
Not that this is the same thing, but my son is black and I do get the occasional “wow, I bet he’ll be a linebacker” or “he must have great rhythm” comments, and I feel a similar shock to what you are describing. I’m never sure whether to punch someone, or laugh, or go in a corner and cry. I usually just stand there dumbstruck and then later think of all the comebacks I could have/should have used.
I hate those types of shitty situations. I can never think of anything sharp or witty to say and end up feeling even more foolish on top of it. Sorry he was such a tool.
He’s an ass butt. (For his race.)
The FUCK???
Eyes. Bugging. Out of my head.
And yet… not. Because this exists.
Holy. I’m sorry you had that experience.
Wow. I’m shocked, as well. But I think you rock.
I’d have cut him, then chopped up that glass you were holding and taken the pieces of glass and shoved them into the cut. Then I would have stomped on it. Or, I would have said, “You’re pretty ignorant for a venture capitalist.” Maybe, both.
Sounds pretty dumb … for an old white guy.
Could have said to him, “And you’re fairly articulate, for an asshole.” Of course, no way would I have thought of that at the time. What a dick.
I hope you told him he was pretty articulate for a balding, impotent, middle-aged, white guy…which I bet you ten bucks he was, right?
Lena said what i was going to say. I tend to turn it right back around on someone and let them hear exactly what it sounds like when it comes out like that.
You are smart and articulate and amazing on any level. Hell, on EVERY LEVEL.
I have a friend who was introduced at a professional conference with “and let me introduce Raymond _____, my favorite black man.” People are kinda pig-headed everywhere. I wish you’d been recognized for who you are. I think you are a hero!
You are preaching to the choir. If it’s a bridge I don’t mind burning, I find the following response to be quite fulfilling:
Him: You are very articulate for a young black woman
Me: Your dick is very small for an old white man
I imagine it felt similar (albeit, worse) to when I was told by my conservative boss that I was “quite well-read and spoken considering your mother was 16 when she had you”
Hrm, gee, how’s get fucked sound?
Just checking in… And, yep! You’re still an awesome motherfucker. Just found you on twitter too.
Just found your site through Danny. My opinion is, this guy probably speaks first, then thinks after. I wasn’t there – so I can’t speak for him… But sometimes the way stuff comes out of the mouth is not the way the brain intended. (I’m trying out my new years resolution by speaking positively). It is a shame his mouth spewed out CRAP.
I had a similar situation with my white, female OB/GYN when I was pregnant with my first son. I was worried I wasn’t gaining enough weight (I was about 4-5 months along and gained about 6 lbs) and she said “Women your size don’t need to worry about stuff like that.”