First Work Trip

Tuesday I had the pleassure of dining with three of the most deliciously uppity knee-grows this side of Not-Atlanta. It was great. We had Ethiopian. And you’d think I have lots to comment on. After all we did have great discussions, jokes, and food. When we left, I scanned the spot and saw that we were the only ‘Us’ in there. Humh.

Hey, I’m going to Detroit for work. Go figure. And for the two nights I’m going to be there, I assume I’ll hang with my dad and his side of the family. It never occured to me to contact my step-family. But on the ride home Tuesday I wondered why. Sure they’re ghetto. They mean well. And really are good people once you get passed the limited vocab (As evidenced by their inability to speak one sentence without ‘muhfugga’ being in it). But I just don’t want to be bothered.

Wednesday, I was still thinking about it. And my mom and I chatted a bit about it. She assumed I wouldn’t contact them because they’d surely do something to embarass me. Never did it cross my mind that I didn’t want my new co-workers to know I knew these kinds of people. Truth of the matter is, I have nothing in common with them. I like new things. They like doing exactly what they did yesterday. I like holding conversations about current events. They like drama. I know how to settle disputes without the cops being called. They don’t. We’re just different.

Is it wrong of me to say? Is it wrong that on larger issues I can publicly stand and say, “Power to the people!”–the people being Black, but behind closed doors know good and damned well that my people are really the ones I sat with at dinner on Tuesday.

This is where people start to get super uncomfortable. Admitting that within the Black community, there are sub-groups. Some based solely on skin tone, others on levels of education, others based on familial ties. I know someone will say, “To white folks we’re all ngas.” But this isn’t about them and how they see us. See, sometimes, I have a hard time accepting that even though we are all Black, we really are different. The older I get, and the further I get from certain groups with certain mindsets, the more pissed I get that I can still get lumped in with them. I still get followed in stores because of how they behave.

It’s like how Massander wrote about his car jacking experience. What side of the road does he stand on? Afterall, it was young Black men who jacked him. So now does he walk around fearful of men who look just like him?? Would it be OK? Does anyone else ever feel this? How are people dealing with it?