On Professionalism, Games, and Neo

What Western culture likes to call professionalism is more of a tenuous game of restraint and mindfulness the further you are from whiteness.

For many melanated folx, it takes a lot of energy, therapy, mindfulness, and understanding the impacts of generational trauma, situational trauma, and white societal consequences not to shake some of y'all like a Polaroid picture.

And that's not a list of considerations for a work week.

Most of the time, all these tools and considerations go through our heads on a workday.

And sometimes, we're already in this headspace of maintaining and sustaining our peace and holding on to our careers by 9:30 a.m. on a workday.

White Western ideology would make you think professionalism is like a chess game.

That's because white people and people with privilege, power, and positionality don't have to play chess while dodging bullets like Neo.

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.

On Affirmative Action and the Designing of Systems

Affirmative action.

It's wild to me that the United States always finds a way to ensure the melanated, especially Black, Brown, and Indigenous folx, know that they don't deserve anything. No options. No opportunities. No possibilities for advancement or breaking the generational shackles of white supremacy.

It's wild to me that those who have power and positionality provided by their proximity to white supremacy (or, in some cases, those who sell their souls to garner favor from white supremacy) get to make decisions that impact those whom laws were supposed to support and amplify.

It's also wild to me that white supremacy continues to try and wield Global Majority folx as weapons against one another, in this case, trying to place the onus for their decision to dismantle affirmative action on the heads of AAPI communities so they don't have to take ownership of the fact that white supremacy's goal is to own nothing that it inflicts upon those it views as less than.

It's wild but not surprising.

It's all working by design.

Let's be honest with ourselves. Affirmative action was appeasement. Affirmative action had become a tool almost exclusively structured for white women to achieve academic access. The data shows this. Hell, white women were suing colleges and universities a few years ago because they felt they didn't get the college placements they "deserved." However, it was one of the only things still in place in this country that remotely offered educational access and socioeconomic progress to communities that were never meant to move beyond poverty, hate, and enslavement. And when you live in a country that likes to parade around how good it believes it is to its citizenry for the world to see, you find yourself clinging to the ledge where the little things you fought for by the tips of your fingers while hoping something better will come.

But we're not getting something better this time, are we?

Instead, we're getting an oily ledge that will impact the grips of melanated folx for generations.

All by design.

The beat goes on. The generational chains of poverty will continue to chafe the wrists and ankles of Black bodies. The progeny of the Black bodies that endured being considered subhuman slaves for hundreds of years will still be regarded as such. AAPI communities will continue to be weaponized to harm others in the name of whiteness, preserving the perceived right to power and comfort of whiteness while doing generational harm to AAPI folx. White women will continue to have the ability to harm melanated folx and take opportunities from their communities because of their proximity to white masculine cisgender societal norms, losing a system of advancement that catered to them exclusively for decades but believing that this decision is not aimed at them. Hence, their place in the pecking order is "safe."

The design is working.

It just isn't working for those who aren't white.

By design.

On Juneteenth and Bank Holidays

TW: mentions sexual assault, rape, white supremacy, and chattel slavery.

I do not like that Juneteenth is a federal holiday. I have always wanted the unmelanted masses to be educated on the history and significance of Juneteenth, but I never wanted it to be recognized as a damn bank holiday. Why?

Because I will never be OK with people of pallor having Juneteenth off work like it’s just another three-day weekend.

Like, what are you off of work for, white people? Are you comfortable chillin’ out on what should be a day of service and reflection for your people? Do y'all think you somehow deserve a day off that directly results from the generational trauma your ancestors created that we're all still impacted by?

Do you look at Juneteenth as a celebration that you get to participate in? If so, what are you celebrating? Are you celebrating the fact that your ancestors enslaved, murdered, and raped my ancestors and then willingly neglected to inform my ancestors that they were technically free and no longer their hateful owners? Are you celebrating the ongoing appropriation, subjugation, and murder that your ancestors popularized as suitable actions toward my ancestors that you and yours still perpetuate?

I will say this every year until the day I die: Juneteenth is not for you, white people.

White people: Until y'all do right by me and mine, may your Juneteenth barbecues lack seasoning, your “red velvet” cupcakes lack moisture, and your red punch taste like bog water.

And you can read that last part in your head in the voice of Celie from The Color Purple.

And note that I said “in your head” because you better not do a Celie impression out loud!

On Looking Both Ways and Frog-Based Evasion Maneuvers

I look both ways when I cross the street. Even when crossing a one-way street, I look both ways. Why?

Because some of y'all think you're driving in the right direction until you run someone over. Then you expect the instant gratification of instantaneous forgiveness for doing the bare minimum to atone for your actions. And when you don't get instant gratification, your sincere apology devolves into blaming the person you ran over for being in your way and getting run over.

Some of y'all know you're not driving in the right direction, and don't skip a beat in your forward movement when you run someone over. And when you're asked to atone and do better in the future, you can't help but unleash anger you feel is justified toward those you've run over. Hell, sometimes y'all hit reverse and run those you've already hit over again.

And some of you realize you're not driving in the right direction but think you can go the wrong way just this once. You know that no one will notice or hold you accountable for your actions. You’ve got privilege on your side. Besides, it's not that big of a deal, right? So what if you go the wrong direction and graze a few people? They'll be fine. The people you've hit? They need to get over it. And if they don't want to "get over it" and expect you to be accountable for your actions? Well, they're blowing things out of proportion. It's not like you killed them or anything, right? They can walk it off!

And many of y'all are going in the right direction and still running folx over. And instead of staying with the person you've run over until help arrives, y'all put the pedal to the floor and get the hell out of dodge. I mean, you've got a reputation to maintain. You're a good person. You donated to causes last year and marched in your city after George Floyd was murdered. You're one of the good ones. You can't have people out here thinking you don't care if you harm others. So what if the person you just hit is trying to get back to their feet and looking your way, expecting you to take responsibility for your actions? If they only knew the kind of person you are, they would understand this was just a mistake. Never mind that you did the same thing a week ago. You're a good person, dammit!

So, of course, I look both ways when I cross the street, even when crossing a one-way street. What kind of fool do you think I am? Do I look like Boo-Boo the Fool to you? What do I look like stepping off the curb just because the light turned green and expecting some of y'all not to run me over after centuries of watching people like me, people who are just trying to cross the damn street, getting run over and receiving no justice?

Some of us spend our entire lives trying to get across the street with as many of our parts, emotions, and faculties intact as possible.

And some of y'all are out here playing Frogger.

Some of y'all need to change more than just a dollar for four quarters.