by today's Urban Chameleon contributor
I wanna say that one of the fruits of the civil rights movement is the fact that we now have the freedom to not give a sh*t about what white people think about us. I believe that to be true maybe 94% of the time. The other 6% of the time, are filled with moments like these:
Rush hour. Uptown bound train at 14th street. We're packed in like sardines. Going to work, coming from work, running an errand, kids trying to get to school, I’m trying to hustle to make it to an appointment. Suddenly, voices raise. Someone just violated someone else's space by...I don't know...pushing, stepping on a toe, elbowing in the chest. I can definitely relate. One too many moments where someone has done this to me on a crowded train - without so much as the obligatory "excuse me" or "sorry" – triggering a burning desire for me to go off on them. I usually don't. Not a natural confrontational spirit I instead curse them in my head. This, however, is not true of everyone.
On today's uptown 3 train, two Black women, one with a doo-rag on her head, decided it was spectacle time and so the verbal match began. All types of “N” word and “bitch” name calling exchanged- now the altercation is on the brink of physical. Civil Rights movement out the door. I kept my iPod volume up. Cuz if I heard anymore, I might have lost my cool. A group of middle aged white men in suits were openly and hysterical with the LOL as if they were watching an episode of “who’s the baby daddy” on Jerry Springer.
Don't get me started.
Other Black people on board were giving each other that silent *stare* and shaking their heads. I caught the eye of one older Black man who looked too sad liked he'd marched for nothing. It was like another episode of Crazy girl on the train.
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