September 20, 2011
2. Newblog2011: 09/20/11 Community Work Services/Race/A quote
September 20, 2011
Here’s something that I wrote on August 25, 2011. I’m going to publish it here the way I first wrote it, as if it had just happened:
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Yesterday, I went to a place called Community Work Services, which does job training for homeless people. In the waiting room, another woman who was there to sign up started making “Fisher” comments.
A guy stood next to me and started the fake coughing and nose rubbing. I said “Goodness, what a cough you have, hope you feel better soon,” and that worked; he stopped.
By the time that the tour was over and the group had gotten back to the first floor, someone had put a Wet Floor sign on the ledge at the front of the doorway to the men’s restroom, and another Wet Floor sign was out on the completely dry floor in front of the women’s restroom.
As the group was stopped in that hallway, a woman with a cane tried to leave the women’s restroom and was stopped by the Wet Floor sign. She hesitated and then found a way around it. She had almost no room to maneuver around the sign in the relatively small hallway; all of the people who had just completed the tour were standing in the hallway and couldn’t even back up to get out of her way.
As the group dissipated to leave, I picked up the Wet Floor sign that was in front of the women’s restroom. I closed its 2 sides together and then set it in a corner where it would be less noticeable.
As I left the hallway, I saw a large, black, half-black or Hispanic man pick up the Wet Floor sign from where I’d put it.
I had a few more questions to answer for CSW, which I did in another room.
When I went to leave CSW, I saw that the Wet Floor sign had been placed in front of the exit, so that I couldn’t miss it as I left.
I’ve mentioned before that both men and women have harassed me, that white, black, Hispanic and people of other races have harassed me. In the essay I wrote about Rosie’s Place today, the man in his 60’s who’d refused me my food when he should have given it to me and the young, female volunteer who followed his direction were both white. The middle-aged woman who barred me from Rosie’s Place was white, too. The woman at the front desk was black.
I’m not sure why I mentioned, in this essay in particular, that the man who picked up the Wet Floor sign to move it in front of the exit was not an obviously white person. There have been people who weren’t white who have been nice to me throughout this horrible ordeal, and there have been a lot of white people who have been horrible to me.
I guess maybe it was the look on his face as he picked up the sign that made me pause and consider the fact that he wasn’t white. There was no sign of emotion on his face at all, except, I guess, what one might interpret as the absence of emotion that you might feel for someone whom you’ve never met or spoken to but whom you hate so much and toward whom you and all others in your nonwhite population have been socially conditioned to hide that hatred that your hatred almost never shows on your face, even when you are viciously attempting to victimize that person with the encouragement of powerful people.
I never wanted what’s been happening to be about race, but it seems to me that it’s a situation that is about a lot of things, with bigotry at its core. There are white people who enjoy what’s happening because they’re bigots about women. There are nonwhite people who enjoy what’s happening because it’s happening most notably to a white person.
What those people don’t realize is that this situation isn’t only happening to me. It’s happening to all women, everywhere, and, by extension, to all people, everywhere.
Maybe the people of color who have enjoyed what’s happening need to be reminded of this quote:
“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”
--Martin Luther King, Jr.
From “Letter from a Birmingham Jail”
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September 20, 2011
There is no code intended by me anywhere on this page.
Copyright, with noted exceptions, L. Kochman, September 20, 2011 @ 6:45 p.m.
2. Newblog2011: 09/20/11 Community Work Services/Race/A quote
September 20, 2011
Here’s something that I wrote on August 25, 2011. I’m going to publish it here the way I first wrote it, as if it had just happened:
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yesterday, I went to a place called Community Work Services, which does job training for homeless people. In the waiting room, another woman who was there to sign up started making “Fisher” comments.
A guy stood next to me and started the fake coughing and nose rubbing. I said “Goodness, what a cough you have, hope you feel better soon,” and that worked; he stopped.
By the time that the tour was over and the group had gotten back to the first floor, someone had put a Wet Floor sign on the ledge at the front of the doorway to the men’s restroom, and another Wet Floor sign was out on the completely dry floor in front of the women’s restroom.
As the group was stopped in that hallway, a woman with a cane tried to leave the women’s restroom and was stopped by the Wet Floor sign. She hesitated and then found a way around it. She had almost no room to maneuver around the sign in the relatively small hallway; all of the people who had just completed the tour were standing in the hallway and couldn’t even back up to get out of her way.
As the group dissipated to leave, I picked up the Wet Floor sign that was in front of the women’s restroom. I closed its 2 sides together and then set it in a corner where it would be less noticeable.
As I left the hallway, I saw a large, black, half-black or Hispanic man pick up the Wet Floor sign from where I’d put it.
I had a few more questions to answer for CSW, which I did in another room.
When I went to leave CSW, I saw that the Wet Floor sign had been placed in front of the exit, so that I couldn’t miss it as I left.
I’ve mentioned before that both men and women have harassed me, that white, black, Hispanic and people of other races have harassed me. In the essay I wrote about Rosie’s Place today, the man in his 60’s who’d refused me my food when he should have given it to me and the young, female volunteer who followed his direction were both white. The middle-aged woman who barred me from Rosie’s Place was white, too. The woman at the front desk was black.
I’m not sure why I mentioned, in this essay in particular, that the man who picked up the Wet Floor sign to move it in front of the exit was not an obviously white person. There have been people who weren’t white who have been nice to me throughout this horrible ordeal, and there have been a lot of white people who have been horrible to me.
I guess maybe it was the look on his face as he picked up the sign that made me pause and consider the fact that he wasn’t white. There was no sign of emotion on his face at all, except, I guess, what one might interpret as the absence of emotion that you might feel for someone whom you’ve never met or spoken to but whom you hate so much and toward whom you and all others in your nonwhite population have been socially conditioned to hide that hatred that your hatred almost never shows on your face, even when you are viciously attempting to victimize that person with the encouragement of powerful people.
I never wanted what’s been happening to be about race, but it seems to me that it’s a situation that is about a lot of things, with bigotry at its core. There are white people who enjoy what’s happening because they’re bigots about women. There are nonwhite people who enjoy what’s happening because it’s happening most notably to a white person.
What those people don’t realize is that this situation isn’t only happening to me. It’s happening to all women, everywhere, and, by extension, to all people, everywhere.
Maybe the people of color who have enjoyed what’s happening need to be reminded of this quote:
“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”
--Martin Luther King, Jr.
From “Letter from a Birmingham Jail”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
September 20, 2011
There is no code intended by me anywhere on this page.
Copyright, with noted exceptions, L. Kochman, September 20, 2011 @ 6:45 p.m.