Last weekend, I was made aware of an incident
that involved a newly introduced acquaintance. She’s beautiful and black,
intelligent and smart, classy and down to earth, accomplished and professional.
She is that quintessential, “I’m Everywoman,”
kinda sistah." You know the song that our sultry songstress, Chaka
Khan sang about, and the one we made into the Black Woman’s Anthem. On a
particularly pleasant Spring day in Seattle, at a particularly bustling corner,
sitting inside a particularly popular Starbucks coffee shop, like many –
particularly exceptional people do – she was enjoying a reflective moment with
another particularly exceptional and respectable black male colleague.
While the language may come across as a bit glib, to be clear, it is by design.
For the descriptors are apparently of significant importance to some people.
Here in polite Seattle, Washington, for example, where whites make up nearly
(69%) of its population, and blacks at or around (7%) of its population, the
likelihood of finding two black college administrators enjoying a cup of java
or tea is the close equivalent of finding that proverbial needle in a hack
stack. And yet, in all of their specialness, their particularity, their
exceptionality and respectability, a young white man found HER and her
BLACKNESS, so particularly offensive that he hurled spittle from his foul,
vulgar, uncouth and depraved soul onto her face – not once, but twice.
The particularity of her and their respectability and exceptionalism wasn’t enough
to cover up their blackness. The language, therefore, is also flippant to
make a point in response to your post about the same incident.
In your blogpost, dated, May 2, 2016, entitled, “Are we in a
post-racial world? In a word, NO! Make that, Hell No!,”
you documented the assault in great detail. Your social commentary
exposing the fallacy that we are living in a “post-racial world,” especially in
Seattle, Washington, was spot on. You were absolutely correct and
justified in pointing out the fact that you and my friend’s, “socio-economic
status (I suppose based on your attire), educational accomplishments, or [your]
age required no respect or deference.” You were also right to highlight
the indifference and lack of concern you observed from other patrons of the
establishment. In fact, the blatant indifference, arguably, experienced
by you both, elicited the strongest indictment when you noted,
Everyone else at the café sat silently or went on with their business. In a truly post-racial world, that would not behow things work. In a post-racial world, that kind of violation would mobilize every person in that space to actively resist an assault on two people – an assault that only happened because of our race, and because of the gender of my colleague. In a post-racial world, there’s no silence.
You go on to say, “Even if you can’t directly
act, you take a stand to support those who are assaulted, like the woman who
volunteered to be a witness, or the manager who took action.” I couldn’t
agree with you more on the assessment and social critique of the circumstances
surrounding the assault. But, while we’re here, and as a black woman
myself, I’m curious to know, Dr. Hughes, what action did you take? What
support did you provide to your colleague, your “sister-friend,” who had just
been spat on – twice? Other than give the police a statement, what did
YOU do? What did you do to stand up for that black woman? What did
you do to protect that black woman? What did you do to honor her, her
dignity, her humanity – hell, your humanity?
From all accounts, including your own, you, too, did nothing. You, too, did nothing but stand by and watch a young white man, “brazenly assault,” a black woman and call her a, “fucking nigger bitch” – in your presence – and you did nothing. No, wait, hold on. Let me be fair. You did do something. In your blogpost you shared that, “[You] turned to [your] colleague and asked if she knew the young man.” Why? Would her knowledge or perceived history or association with the assailant have explained or justified his absolute indecorous behavior toward her? Why did you go to the place of “questioning” the black woman, seemingly, with such ease? Was it easier for you to think that maybe this black woman had done something wrong to this nice, young, clean cut, and well-dressed white man, than it was for you to believe his problem with her was due primarily to that which has been ingrained into his psyche as a privileged and entitled white man in an androcentric society? Your “questioning” was as offensive and inappropriate as asking a female rape victim what she was wearing at the time of her rape.
Malcolm X once said, “The most disrespected person in America is the black woman. The most unprotected person in America is the black woman. The most neglected person in America is the black woman.” As a sometime blogger myself, I know the limitless word count for writing a post, so I anxiously waited to read something from you that would have made me feel differently about the need to pen this response. I waited to hear you reflect on the historical dangers that black men have faced when trying to protect the black woman. I waited to read about your thought process and the possible ramifications – affecting your family, your career, even your life – should you have rose to defend and protect the black woman. I waited to read that if no one else cared for, respected or valued the humanity of the black woman, surely her black male counterpart did. I waited to read that at least in that instance, Malcolm X would be proven wrong. I waited. I waited only to hear your deafening silence, and the realization that my hope and my help is in myself or some other entity.
Dr. Hughes, I am thankful to you for bringing this matter to the public square. But while you arraign those in proximity that did nothing to come to your aid – you the well-dressed, accomplished, professional and respectable good black man – I hope you were equally convicted by your lack of action, your lack of protection, your lack of care, and your incredulous presumption of the black woman’s guilt. No, we are not living in a post-racial society. You are correct in that assessment. But know for certainty, that you have a large part to play in that narrative as well.
Peace and blessings,
Rev. Dorinda G. Henry
