I called this post Small Acts of NOT Racism because it was a good day. It was a very good day. Did I observe racism, yes. Was it directed at me? No. Have I figured out how to address what I did see? Nope. Will I? Yes. 

I fell at work waaaayyy back in March of 2019. For about 6 months, I received  physical therapy from a gentleman who owns his own company and travels to people’s worksites to help them get back to work as soon as possible, to teach them new mechanics to do their jobs after injury and to minimize downtime. Anyone who has had PT knows you spend a lot of time just talking and getting to know the person who is torturing you in the kindest way possible. I mean, who wants someone touching you that you don’t know something about? I most certainly do not. 

I first noticed that there might be something different about him the first time he asked if he could touch my injured knee. “Is it okay if I touch your knee?” Wait! What? I have a bad back and have had a lot of physical therapy and for the love of God I cannot remember ever being asked that before someone started kneading the knots out of me (and making me spontaneously cry). I thought, “huh? That’s weird,” but I put it in my back pocket. He continues to keep me informed and asks before he physically touches me. It is his habit. 

We bonded over our sons love of baseball. We have talked frequently about their games, how they did and where they were traveling next. We also talked about Chaminade Julienne’s baseball team winning state two years in a row (yeah, boy!) and that his son’s high school team was in the same league with CJ. Lo and beholdover the summer of 2019, our son’s summer teams  played each other. (My son’s team won, of course 😉). He introduced me to his wife as “Dr. Antoinette Marquess.” SHOCKED! I didn’t even know he knew my official title as he has always called me by my first name. I was impressed that he gave me My Props! White men do not typically do that, but that’s another post all together. (Yes, Randy, I know you do, too!)

As an aside, in African American culture, for the most part, it is preferable that you call adults by their title, Mr., Mrs., Dr., etc. and their last name unless they give you PERMISSION to call them by their first name. (Unless it is an established routine of an environment that everyone is called by their first name, e.g. your same level co-workers, but that often does not extend to much older black people even if you have the same job.) If you are familiar with them, you may be given permission to call them by Mr. or Ms. and their first name. If you are fictive kin with them, you may be directed to call them, Auntie or Uncle and their first name. That’s why the meme below was so funny to black audiences of Black Panther. (And, Killmonger: ya bet not fix ya lips to call her anything else! She still ya family even if ya can’t stand her or ya cousin!) 

Back to my PT. At the baseball game, he and his wife also engaged with and talked to my daughter, who has Autism. And, when I introduced him to my son, he looked him in his eye and shook his hand. Now, mind you I note all of this because this doesn’t typically happen. 

Then, there was yesterday and my heart was filled with both hope and joy! I am not sure exactly how the conversation started, but I mentioned my Small Acts of Racism post and he immediately said, “I haven’t done anything have I? I mean, I don’t know what I don’t know and I hope you would tell me. I realize that I come from a small town that was all White.” He is a good Christian man, so I did not exclaim, “WHAT THE FUCK?!” I damn near cried! Like real tears! I don’t know if he noticed, but I was deeply moved. I assured him that he hadn’t and thought, “Oh…this is just who this man is…he treats women well, he respects me and he is conscious of who he is and how that could affect the people around him regardless of race, ethnicity or gender.” 

We talked at length and I will share more later, but he also said, “It’s hard to talk about. It’s uncomfortable to think that I may have done something, but these are conversations that need to be held, just like we are doing now.” See how he didn’t use the rubber/glue argument and try to deflect off the subject, make a joke or tell me I was being divisive for talking about my experiences. He took responsibility, admitted he may have some culpability, was willing to listen, address my concerns if there were any and was willing to do better if necessary. None of that, “I don’t have a racist bone in my body” nonsense! Mind you this happened in 2019. TWENTY NINETEEN!

And, y’all, that didn’t happen to me once that day, it happened TWICE!!! (I will talk more about that later.) And, a white woman told a cashier who bypassed me and was going to ring her out before me that I was there first! GTWEFOH! Yep! It was a good day! A very good day!

https://images.app.goo.gl/3GQc3CBnKZ7eV1Ux8