Yesterday, I went downtown to the produce mart to buy organic vegetables and fresh fish, because as you know, its beauty on a budget over here. I hadn't been downtown in a long time, and all of the regular vendors I deal with were gone. One of the supervisors of a little stand was particularly hostile to me. I am not racially hypersensitive. However, his reaction to me obviously stemmed from this tiresome squabbling between LA Latinos and Blacks. Personally, I think Blacks and Latinos dividing and fighting along racial lines is like two junkies in the park fighting over a plastic spoon.
Additionally, my cardinal concerns of getting healthier, by eating better foods, at prices that I can afford, in tandem with leaving a better world for my "God chirren" made it impossible for me not to engage this man. At first I was so annoyed that he deliberately ignored serving me, while serving white customers and Latino customers that I had to leave the store. I drove around the block, and pondered the notion of finding a friendlier non organic produce vendor. While I've lost 400 pounds, I still need to lose another 300 pounds, and healthy fueling is vital. So until I can afford Whole Foods, I am at this man's mercy. I was NOT going to allow him to stand between me and my tomatoes, lettuce and apricots. The question was how.
Once I did a little mobile meditation (breathing deeply and slowly, and on the inhale saying, "Let God" and the exhale saying, "Let Go") for a few minutes I was ready to go and deal with the situation. Note: I said, situation, not individual. Its his responsibility to deal with his enlightenment, I have my hands full dealing with my own--believe me!
From over here, I was angry, I was humiliated, and I was sad. Now I've had experience with blatant discrimination for whatever reason... because I'm holding a hand full of Green Weenie Cards, (I'm obviously Gay, but actually Bisexual--which is curiously even more disturbing to people. I'm also Loud, Black, Very Large, Flamboyant, and the list goes on). Now a person like myself, who does not possess shyness as a trait, necessarily, the first instinct was to grab that man by collar and lift him up off the ground, (like the time, I pulled a passport agent across the counter at the Federal Building, and told him, "don't let the dress fool you, I use to be on the offensive line in football, I will seriously hurt you.")
Alas, I've put my pumps and my volatile attitude away. They won't help make a better world for my God Chirren. Instead, I used another part of me. I walked straight up to him, and said, "Honey you're not smiling. What is the problem... Smile... Watch me..." His employees started to laugh... finally he joined in. By the time I left, he was giving me complimentary vegetables... Anybody want some tomatillos?
Today, I went to the bank to cover the potential overdraft from buying too much fish. I was in the drive thru, and immodestly perhaps, I have a beautiful, red, Commemorative Classic Convertible, (its West LA, don't judge me). The woman asked me if I was a football player. Now think about that. LA doesn't have a pro team, and although the years have been kind, even though the weekends have been hell, the years haven't been THAT KIND. True, I look young for my age, and exceptionally young for my mileage... But there is NO WAY, I look like I'm a college football player.
I get asked if I'm a football player a lot, in my neighborhood, because for the most part, the few black men in West LA are athletes, actors or musicians. Doctors, and especially PhD's like me, are in the extreme minority---AGAIN. A large black man that's not carrying a football, pushing a broom, or here to rob, pillage, and carry off the women folk (and come back later for you) is curiously disturbing to people.
While I was thinking, "Oh yeah, see a big nigga' in a nice car and right away he's in the NFL", what I said was "Oh no I'm a doctor, that's why I need to deposit this immediately, so I'm not overdrawn..." The word "Doctor" trumped the word overdrawn (again curiously) And she went into that "Oh thank you for talking to me your majesty" mode, which is more noise--but nicer noise, kinda.
We are such symbolic creatures, we humans. Its never the symbols that are important, its what they represent. In reality, the winning lotto numbers are just random graphic configurations on a piece of colored paper. Its what we agree that they symbolize that is important---especially if you have the right symbols they can mean you have won millions of dollars, and dollars again, are just graphics on paper, but they're special graphics, on special paper---that's what makes it money... but only because we agree that it is money.
And my point is? My point is, humans are symbol smiths, and stereotypes exist for a reason... and the reason is not that they are true. The reason is the human brain needs to consolidate and simplify. That's one of the reasons there are stereotypes... its easier for the brain. "Usually this means this" The brain's a busy girl... playing the odds is easy, and easy works...
Humans being symbol smiths, who place more importance on what the symbols represent than the symbol itself, is fine in most cases. Knowing to stop at the right time is more important than the metal and the paint the stop sign is made out of.... But when the symbols are people, it doesn't work so well... on a lot of levels... and therefore, we must take extra precaution to step out of our feelings, center our selves and then interact, because human society occurs at the level of each human interaction, and that is strictly intrinsic reality, not consensual reality. Holla back chirren.
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