That Ain't Fair

My life has been filled with experiences that that have often had me thinking or saying “That ain’t fair”. These experiences are responsible for me formulating very strong feelings about the race relations. I did know the fancy words prejudice, bigotry, racism, intolerance, prejudgment, implicit bias, explicit bias, I just know what I thought “That ain’t fair”. in a particular situation. Growing up in Detroit, a majority black city provided some insulation from the bigger world. But even in this majority black city, racism, bigotry and all of those other fancy words would frequently surface in the place I called home. How was it that school administrators and teachers in a majority black city were often devoid of melanin? Maybe one of those fancy words fits here.

It was easy become a number, become a statistic and support somebody else’s numbers. Numbers do tell a story, but the problem with numbers is that the people who are not the number are often overlooked.

At an early age I knew I was going to challenge the status quo. I was not going to be pigeon hold and live a boxed life. I was going to be the rabble rouser, I was going to be the voice heard, not the voice silenced.

There are so many stories that I can tell, it is hard to pick just one. But this one is near or at the top. In the early 90’s, my family traveled to our family reunion. This time it was south, Deep South, in a city that if you blinked you would miss it. It was Deep South, and it was 90 degrees or more every day. Day after day we would drive past this “community” pool and I would ask about going, and the response was almost always the same no matter who I asked: “Oh, we don’t go there.”

One day it must have been a zillion degrees, and I said, let’s go swimming!! Before I could say another word, I heard a choir of voices say, “we don’t go there.” Me being the big city northerner, thought to myself. Don’t they know we can go anywhere we want? Don’t they know segregation and discrimination is illegal?

To my surprise, I found support for my idea. Two of my cousins said. “Let’s do it!” In hindsight I’m not sure if they were committed or just going to see this big city boy learn southern lesson firsthand.

Off we went. We parked, only a few raised eyebrows. I think because we are strangers, not because we are black. We enter the building, no problem. Pay our money, no problem only a quizzical. We are stranger, not because we are black. As we walk away, the receptionist picked up the phone. We hear, but the conversation is mumbled. And we are excited that we have got in!!!

We got to the locker room, we changed. No problems “. This day was going to go down in history. They would write books about the day we broke the color barrier. We get to the pool entrance the attendant takes our tickets. Have a good swim “Boys”. I thought to myself, Houston we have a problem. The next thing I heard was “be careful, people can drown in a foot of water”. When I turned around to politely respond, he had been joined by a band of back woods good ole boys. One of them said, “I wonder how long he can hold his breath, pointing at me.

I wish I could say this story ended with a great swim and the pool is now open to all. We didn’t swim, common sense and reason prevailed. We decided that we really liked breathing more than swimming, and that when considering how things might turn out, we would deal with the zillion degree heat.

I not sure when it happened, but a few years later I got a picture of about 20 or more people at the pool with a note saying “Thanks”

I have learned that resistance leads to change and may not have an immediate impact but being resilient and staying the course does!!!

We also are wise wit remember that our action speaks louder than words and we can never be sure how our actions and or thoughts will move others to action.

All thought when I was told we don’t go there is “That ain’t fair”.

Solidarity promotes action!