Clarity

Right now I am in Baton Rouge, LA visiting my parents. The reason that I am here is quite simple, first, to celebrate my youngest brother's graduation from college, and second, to celebrate the holidays. This is my favorite time of year, for more reasons than one. The whole idea of family coming together to celebrate is beautiful. I believe that people are at their best when they are together. I guess it is a testament to the old axiom ‘strength in numbers’. Coming home has always given me an opportunity to seek what I like to call ‘divine introspection’. There is a certain peace that is associated with coming to my parent’s home. Something in the air that just makes life seem perfect, like nothing can go wrong. I often lose myself in the solitude of home, but it seems that recently, my notions about the city of my birth have begun to evolve. For as many years that I can remember, I never looked at Baton Rouge or Louisiana for that matter as a place where prejudice and social/racial indifference ran rampant. In fact, it never crossed my mind until now. I must admit, I do possess a certain naïveté, but I’m an artist, and a liberal, so I guess I am a faithful follower to both doctrines. In any case, coming home this year, has allowed me to gain some type of knowledge that can only be attributed to my time spent away. It’s somewhat like the prodigal son in the Bible, mixed with a good old fashioned dose of stepping away from something to achieve clarity. There are two events that served as a source for this clarity; one involving an incident in New Orleans, and the other was somewhat of an epiphany.

On Thursday, Dec. 16, I flew into New Orleans and was picked up from the airport by a good friend of mine. Upon leaving the airport, he and I stopped at a Po-boy shop in Kenner so that we could get a bite to eat. As we ordered our food, I asked to use the establishment’s restroom, and was promptly told by the very kind lady behind the counter that it was ‘closed’, she however, quickly informed us that we could ask the woman who was mopping the floor. When we asked the second employee, she told us that the restrooms were closed, despite the fact that the business was still serving food. Now I don’t know much about the law, but I do know that if a business is serving food, it must provide working restroom facilities for its patrons. As my friend attempted to convince the employee to allow us to use the restroom, he was told that the person who possessed the key to the restroom was ‘out Christmas shopping’. We were inclined to wait. Now you have to understand a few things about the scene, first, that we were dressed in ‘professional’ attire, and second that we did not make a scene, in fact we were polite, used humor, and were most respectful. When the possessor of the key arrived, we quickly noticed that she was obviously upset over something, because her demeanor exuded an unhappy attitude. Using the same tone, same humor, and dressed in the same professional attire, we asked if we could use the restroom, and were swiftly told ….NO. Now this baffled me, here we were, two professionally dressed patrons of this establishment, asking for one of the most basic rights that a human being could request, being told no. There is however, one fact that I seemed to have forgotten…we were African-American, as were all of the employees, and she was white. We asked again and she along with the conception of a litany of excuses, said no again. When my friend asked why…she said (1) the floor was wet and she wouldn’t be responsible for any accidents, and (2) there were fumes in the bathroom, and she wouldn’t be responsible for anything happening to us. It seemed as if she was determined to give us more reasons explaining why we couldn’t go, rather than why we could. Then it hit me….could it have something to do with our (I dare not say) race? Of course not, not in 2004, and not in the ‘progressive’ South. When my friend finally got her to buckle, mind you under her stipulation that he sign a ‘waiver’ relinquishing all possibilities of law suits, she acquiesced. When my friend motioned to me that I could go, given the fact that I had just arrived in the city after being on a two hour flight, the manager vehemently protested. When my friend asked why I couldn’t go she said, “He didn’t ask, you did.” She continued by saying, “This is always the problem, if I let one person go, everyone wants to go.” I sat there mortified and promptly told her to just forget about it. Now at the same time that this was going on, two young African-American teens were waiting for their orders. The mere fact that they had to bear witness to this was appalling. Then it hit me again…these two young men, were unbeknownst to them, being affected by this scene. There they were sitting, watching two articulate, professionally dressed, highly educated men, being told that they could not relieve themselves in a place that they had just patronized. It made me think of the events of the Black Freedom Struggle (AKA Civil Rights Movement) and how young boys would watch as their fathers or men that they respected were called ‘boy’ by people sometimes younger than themselves. To me this whole affair had become more than just a case of allowing me to use a restroom; it had become a case of affecting the minds of our children. A case mind you, of classic ‘divide and conquer’. As these boys watched as we were denied, I feared that somewhere in their minds was the thought that no matter what you achieve in life, you will still be denied for the most nonsensical, irrational of reasons, but more importantly, that achievement means nothing when stacked against prejudice. However, what compounded the event was the fact that the women who worked behind the counter were forced to watch this in silence. These women, who obviously saw an injustice taking place before their very eyes, could not speak out in protest simply because they would be reprimanded, or even worse, fired. And fired mind you, over an issue that was obviously a case of the denial of civil rights. In fact, as we left, the woman who was mopping was summarily led into the manager’s office like a child behind led to the back of the tool shed.

In the end, the lesson learned was one that is antiquated, though useful. If there is an intention to overcome the social and civil ills that continue to plague our society, a consolidation must occur. People, regardless of cultural, religious, or racial affiliation, must seek a commonality, and be willing to speak up when things are not right. Those young men, who may or may not live in an impoverished community, need good role models, people to aspire to emulate, and without them, there is a chance, though fleeting, that they will disassociate themselves with the philosophies of achievement, and subscribe to the philosophies of apathy. Trust me; I have seen it occur in the microcosm of the public school setting.

So as I celebrate this holiday with friends and family members, I’ll try to espouse the virtues of the concord that must exist in our community…it just might change things.