Wow! That was a 1,825-word exercise in self-indulgence that loudly begs the question, “WTF were you shooting for, a shoulder to cry on?” I, for one, am having a very hard time feeling your privileged righteously indignant pain. While I concede the fact that those of us who shop while Black can, at times, be subjected to certain slights and ignorant assumptions, but I am most impressed by your absolute inability to appreciate the fact that you have enough financial resources to visit high-end clothing stores on a regular basis. Further, I am impressed by your ignorance of your own penchant for making uninformed assumptions about people you’ve never met.
. . . make me a female dandy.
I would never begrudge you your sartorial prowess or your desire to brag about being unduly devoted to style, neatness, and fashion, but I can’t ignore how adroitly you set yourself up as one who is most undeserving of pity from the very outset.
Some of my Black friends say my style is “boo-zhee.”
You were probably too busy doing a lap at one of your high-end haunts to bother looking the term up, but it is spelled bougie, which is a truncated form of the French word bourgeoisie, or did you miss that unit back in preppy school?
I can’t help it: If I’m wearing an outfit that makes me feel comfortable and look good then I feel like I can do anything.
Really? I’m sorry to hear that you can’t help buying way-too-expensive clothing to feel good, but I should think that such a hear-me-roar attitude would come from a clear sense of self-esteem, not some OCD-like sense of style. Am I to assume that your ability to do anything is inextricably linked to what you have on your back rather than what you have in your brain?
But shopping at high-end stores while Black, especially young and female, too often feels like navigating a minefield of assumptions, microaggressions, and thinly veiled hostility.
I don’t mean to spit hairs, but, then again, you’re splitting heads over balls of cotton so, here goes. For the sake of parallelism, you should pluralize your last noun – hostilities, especially since you have already suffered people's assumptions and microagressions (whatever they are).
When that happens I usually give the sales rep my dead-fish-eye look that says . . .
If you really want to imbue such situations with a modicum of the didactic, it would be better to avail yourself of these many, many teachable moments by opening your mouth and schooling those errant sales associates. But, I’ve heard that, rather than saying what is on your mind, nothing sends a message more emphatically than looking at someone like a dead fish.
Mind you, I’ve never worked a retail or service-sector job a day of my life.
Why make this such a point of salience? Could it be that you feel that you are too good to work in the service sector?
Non-Black people might look at the fluffy bolls and see something soft and pleasant. But we see endless fields of torture and misery. We are reminded of . . . blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yadda.
This all-inclusive we of whom you speak would be . . .? My mother used to regale me with countless stories of her days picking cotton in rural Georgia (she was born in the early 20s), but I never saw her break out in a cold sweat or slip into a hydrophobic rage at the mere sight of raw cotton. Instead, she graduated from college with a BA and an MA so she would NOT have to ever pick cotton again. By your own submission, your readers know that you are young and black. So, whence the vivid memories of being raped, beaten, and having your flesh torn by chains? Could you be suffering from P-T-S-D or Post Traumatic Slavery Disorder? If so, I recommend that you seek out a good therapist post haste!
“My ancestors in Virginia had to pick that,” I said wearily.
So, was it also in Helen’s job description to telepathically familiarize herself with your family history upon your unanticipated arrival? Would it have been better for her to assume that all black Americans go Adrian-Monk crazy whenever they see fluffy balls of cotton? Or, are you simply taking umbrage at a perceived affront that is bursting at the seams with misguided assumptions about poor Helen’s role in some racial conspiracy? What was it about her demeanor or appearance that let you know that she was an inveterate racist, hell-bent on exploiting YOUR irrational aversion to raw cotton? You need to stop wallowing in your role as victim and start being the victor that you are. Some of us shop at lower-end stores out of frugality, and others shop "down" out of necessity. You, on the other hand, have the means to be a dandy denizen of the realm of all that is preppy who buys overpriced clothes to ease her pain. Others of your fellow world citizens can only afford to soothe their angst with a bar of chocolate or a bowl of mac & cheese. Still others have to get by on less than a dollar a day. So, stop with the fish eyes and use your expensive and presumably expansive academic past to teach those who would be educated and ignore those who do not warrant angry retorts. In other words, learn to pick your battles lest you lose the war, and stop telling yourself that we black Americans are joined at the hip by dint of a similar hue.
The part about being offended by a display of raw cotton and cotton plants was a new one to me. Should the Irish be offended by the sight of potatoes because their starving ancestors were forced to turn over their eager crop to the British?
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What a most eloquent reply, thanks.
Of the things that “happened” to her, each has happened to me as well.
I have had people approach me in stores and treat me like I worked there. If it was in my ability to help them - like if they asked where the changing rooms are - I would point them in the right direction, without pointing out that I didn’t work there. Why embarrass them needlessly? I never thought they were racist. Boy, was I ignorant!
I have had sales people treat me like I can’t afford what they are selling. I just thought they were rude. I never knew they were racist!
This woman is the epitome of what is wrong with Black Americans. If you see everything through the eyes of race, you will blame race for every slight, real or imagined. Certainly that will make you more and more hostile over time. A very sad way to go through life.
“I was strolling the aisle of Tractor Supply” dressed in my authentic oil and grass stained overalls wearing my muckers and carrying a roll of chicken wire when a voice spoke from behind me.” “You look like an able lass would you stand still while I check your teeth and feel your biceps?” Inwardly I groaned. Though I owned not a square yard of farm or ranchland and though I was wearing a very fetching cloche from knitted raw silk I was once again being mistaken for a plow girl for hire.
Darn these green organic farmers who eschewed the use of carbon based fuel, yet were because of their firm commitment to animal rights refused to use mule or horse to plow and till the rich bottom land. I was extremely offended. I don’t shop in low end local feed stores where any Billy Bob or Earlene makes themselves at home. I can afford the best and I shop accordingly. Sometimes only a pair of full length Ariat riding boots can ease the pain of my tormented soul.
I made a point of ignoring him by pretending a fascination with a post hole diggers (as if). Thankfully he left and I decided to continue my stroll around the store. Then I saw it. Right next to the Backyard Chicken Magazine rack. Pitchforks. I wanted to howl my outrage. Instead I immediately sought out a clerk. Grabbing her by her hand I dragged her over. “How dare you display these!!!. Why not just put them next to the lawn torches so everyone can know what they really mean!!?? At her confused look I snarled, “My ancestors were forced from their castle in Bergen County by angry villagers intent on driving them out because of fear and bigotry. I want these removed at once!!! Not waiting for her reply I stomped out of the store tears streaming down my face at the thought of such a display of not a mad scientist privilege.
Narcissism trumps racism. Three words vs 2,000...
Snippy, I’d say.
Blacks sure don’t appreciate how good they have it here. When you are only 13% of the population there will be problems same as for any other minority. White have their own problems such a affirmative action which is nothing but discrimination against them for jobs, gov’t jobs and education. I doubt this spoiled brat ever thought about this. She prolly got all kinds of affirmative action scholarships where the only qualifications are that you are black and have a pulse
Living here Sure beats living in Africa. The gap is colossal between a black man living here or in Africa but blacks don’t appreciate it. So go back to Africa if you are so offended
Now if I told an Italian-American or Irish American who was complaining so much to GTFO and go back to Italy or Ireland...those nations are nice places to live that are civilized. The gap between life there and here is not that big. But the best thing that ever happened to today’s spoiled blacks was their slave ancestors being taken here.
Gotta be satire. No one could be this dense.
The Horror!! The disrespect!!! The overt racism!!!!