On Bus Stops, Kylie Minogue, and Distance

As I was transferring buses on my commute to work this morning, I walked up to the stop for my second bus, where a white woman was waiting for the next leg of her trip. As I came to a stop, I sat on a bus bench about six to eight feet from where she was standing. As soon as I sat down, she immediately moved out of the space and stood on the other side of the LED sign showing the bus arrival times.

She put 10 feet and a wall between us.

And all I did was sit down at a bus stop while waiting for my bus.

Maybe she moved because I smiled at her as I approached the stop, which I unconsciously do all the time. After all, I’m friendly, but I know how people view big Black men in overwhelmingly white cities like Portland, so I try to exude an aura of "not dangerous" to minimize the unspoken fear factor I evidently add to the pot of by existing.

Maybe she moved because of my pink headphones and Singin’ in the Rain t-shirt.

Maybe she moved because my laptop bag, adorned with patches of Alfred Hitchcock, Mario, Luigi, Spider-Man, Chibi nigiri, and musubi, offended her.

Or maybe she moved because she’s racist and full of stereotypes and anti-Black rhetoric to the point where she felt the big Black guy boppin’ to Kylie Minogue posed a clear and present danger to her safety.

All I did was sit at a bus stop while waiting for my bus.

These moments happen to me all the time. I know that one misconstrued smile or glance, or a moment that I’m seen as an invader of some white person’s space, could be the difference between me getting to work on time and never going to work again. And I know that all I can do in these moments is hope that a higher power has my back because even when a Black man does the right things to protect himself, he’s still a potential bullet shelter or convict.

And all I did was sit down at a bus stop while waiting for my bus.

I got to work on time. So, there’s that.