On: losing my last ally + good karma

1. I lost my last neutral ally at work yesterday. She's an Asian-American musical theater actress adopted by white folks. When I first met her, I got the sense she was someone I could relate to because like me, she's the only girl repping her people in the office; like me, her dance aesthetics spans further than what the school offers; like me, she's a no bullshit, low drama, "fuck it I'll do it myself" type of lady and she's easy to talk to and joke with.

It never occurred to me that the sort of out of pocket comments I catch coming out of the mouths of my white coworkers would ever come out of hers. Because she was my neutral ally. Neutral in that we weren't bound by our sex or our color or departments, but by our mutual respect and understanding of the other's daily fight. We can read each other's silences and dead pan expressions and side eyes. It's nice to have that sort of relationship in the workplace. Especially in this particular work place at a time when I'm coming to a crossroad and any little sly comment I overhear has me wanting to give up and get out. So you can imagine the remorse I felt yesterday afternoon when, in retelling a not so funny story, my neutral ally referred to another dancer and myself as "blackies". I questioned it before realizing what I'd heard and when she repeated it, I knew I'd lost one of the last things keeping me sane at that job.

A few weeks ago, I confronted my boss about using "nigger" in my presence. She's tall white mid-aged Bay area bred women who mentions at least once a day that she graduated from Columbia and at least once daily that she doesn't feel good. Working with her can be a struggle in keeping my positive outlook. She preaches positivity ad nauseam, but can be such a fiercely negative person. She talks shit about students and other coworkers. She's an attention whore and a bit of a megalomaniac. She regularly sticks her nose in shit that has nothing to do with her. She complains more than I can bear most days. She has a tendency to overreact and jump to conclusions which completely baffles me; don't you eventually learn why you shouldn't do that? All this of a Landmark Forum person. BUT... but she is a very good boss. She acknowledges me and rewards me. She's honest and open and I can say she's one of the best bosses I've had the pleasure of working with. She's been very supportive of my artistic ventures and was largely responsible for the total transformation of work ethic. I've learned so much about life and career and love and I actually owe a lot of my happiness to her.

Now, with all that said, it's tricky, raising the topic of racism and language with her and in a place like this. She suffers from that Carson Daily syndrome; Carson liked to switch up his host speak depending on the day's guest; that is, hood talk to the rappers, SAT language to politicians, and milquetoast to the teeny boppers. She likes to think she's down, which is fine, but remember that you're white and I'm black and you have no business saying "nigger" in my presence, no matter the context. I'm a fan of Quest and I think "Sucka Nigga" is a beautifully written etymological study of word. I don't need to hear you sing the lyrics word for fucking word right in front of me. I don't think you're hip. I don't think you're down. Yes, I do know the kind of person you are; like me you're curious about the world and it's people and their ways. But unlike me, you're not in the position to know why a filter is necessary when exploring. You've never had a noose drawn around your neck in a class photo. No one's ever called you "darky" or "nigger" or "nappy head hoe" or "black bitch". You're ignorant to my struggle. This is the same woman who was surprised by the number of black people who work at a health food market near the school and how nice and seemingly educated they are. The same women who says she doesn't know how to tell if a black man is handsome. I get it when it when she says she doesn't mean any harm and that she's just wants to know, but that doesn't make her comments any less out of pocket. And refraining from a word or being more aware of your words doesn't change the ideas you've got wired in you about a group of people.

This is my work environment. What is it about me that makes people think they can be that comfortable around me?

2. My wallet fell out of my bike basket yesterday morning as I was speeding to catch my train. There is a can collector who circles the train station every Friday. Sometimes, he talks out loud to no one in his strange voice about whatever is on his mind. He never bothers me much so I just ignore him and keep it moving. Well this strange old man was the one who found my wallet and handed it to the taxi stand at the train station. When I see him again, I going to thank him graciously and befriend him.

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