Why do I feel guilty taking off work for MLK DAY?

by today's Urban Chameleon contributor

I'm the only Black guy at my company. I started about two and a half months ago so technically I’m still under a three-month probation before being considered a real employee.

Martin Luther King, Jr. Day is this Monday, as it’s celebrated the third Monday of January every year, a national holiday signed by Ronald Reagan in 1983. I noticed that my company is not closed for the holiday and I’m hot and bothered by this. This is the first time I’ve worked for a company that doesn’t acknowledge Dr. King’s birthday. Apparently, only 33% of business’ close for this day. I wonder if this is racism or taking humanity for granted? Or both? This might sound harsh, but to not acknowledge the birth of a man who died for civil rights is a harder pill for me to swallow.

The owner of the company is Jewish and I thought he’d understand the importance of commemorating a day that represents overcoming hate, murder, oppression and obtaining civil rights – hello Holocaust? I referred to the employee manual to see if I can find supporting evidence for my case. I was ready to approach the company if I saw that the office was closed for Yom Kippur or Rosh Hashanah, but to my surprise the only three holidays we have off are the New Year, Christmas and July 4^th. Oh. I had to rethink my approach to this matter.

I decided to see my manager, who also doubles up as HR, and bring the issue to her attention. In my mind, I kept reciting how delicately and politely I would approach the subject to avoid coming off like an angry Black man. A shame that we have to think this way. My manager ended up being really cool and understanding, (not understanding enough to close the office), but explained that because the company is so small with clients who don’t take off for the holiday and are so demanding we can’t afford to close, especially in such a competitive industry. However, if I wanted to take the day off I was more than welcomed, (without it even counting against my vacation days). The irony is that we are a slave to our clients. I thanked her for her time and walked back to my desk but still not satisfied.

A friend of mine told me that he has never worked for a company that's acknowledged MLK Day. He too is the only Black guy, always finding himself in a position of having to contemplate whether or not he should take the day off because feelings of guilt and isolation arise. It's like when you don't play into the culture of corporate America; being a martyr for working to the point of exhaustion. It's a company's responsibility to set a tone and by not acknowledging MLK Day you end up feeling like THAT "Black employee" missing work over THAT "Black holiday."

MLK Day isn't just about “ME and my Black people,” it's for everyone regardless of race. It reminds us of how far we’ve come and how much farther we have to go; Gay people in this country are still fighting for civil rights. Women are still seeking equality. If your office can’t close for the holiday the least they can do is acknowledge the day; even if it’s just a company, “reply all” e-mail, subject: Happy Martin Luther King, Jr. Day!

Have your Urban Chameleon story featured by e-mailing tickles.tv@gmail.com

Click here for: How the Urban Chameleon Came to be

Is “Tipping” for Service a Cultural Thing?

by today's Urban Chameleon contributor

A friend of mine always says that he doesn’t understand why poverty exists. “If all the billionaires in the world got together and gave back we wouldn’t have poverty.”

But there may be a more fundamental problem to attack first...tipping. Some see this as an unjustified donation. In fact, another friend (a Black woman), told me she can’t stand to see a tip jar by the cash register, especially at a coffee house. “Why am I tipping you on $1.25 coffee, that’s like putting your hand out and begging.”

Meanwhile, a different friend (a Black man) over tips for everything, as if he’s personally trying to correct the actions, or rather lack of actions, of people like her who’ve given the race a bad name. If you’ve worked in the service industry in America, like I have, where tips are not included in the paycheck and the establishment you’re working for has factored this in, therefore paying you minimum wage, there may be justification for much ‘tude to someone who doesn’t tip you.

A cab driver in NY once told me that I should tip at least 20% when paying with a credit card. I wasn’t sure how I felt about someone telling me how I should spend my money on them, but in a city that makes you fend for your own one may be forced to speak up if they want to eat.

The stigma of Black folks not tipping has caused a cultural split, which ironically is reflected by my two friends; One side under tips or doesn't tip at all and the other over tips to overcompensate for the ones that don’t.

The friend who came up with the solution to end poverty, (who also happens to be Black), shared an article with me where Warren Buffet and Bill Gates were attempting to do exactly what he had suggested, gather all the billionaires around the world to tackle global poverty. However, one of the biggest challenges is first getting billionaires from around the world to understand the significance of “giving back,” a concept that does not even exist in some of their cultures.

It made me think about whether or not there might be a mental or emotional block in Black culture around tipping. Ya know there were all those years where we did work for free. Like anything else, some folks may just be moving at a slower pace to wrap their heads and hearts around this thing called tipping.

Have your Urban Chameleon story featured by e-mailing tickles.tv@gmail.com

Click here for: How the Urban Chameleon Came to be

"Without a BMW, I’m Just a Negro With an Opinion"

By today’s Urban Chameleon contributor

That’s right I said it, “Without a BMW, I’m just a Negro with an opinion.” That’s what my NAACP, MBA, PHD, Fulbright scholar, friend told me the other day. I almost spit out my peppermint tea. I wasn’t sure if he was being comical or not; even though his sentiment nearly made me inhale my drink through my nose, the sincerity in which he said it really got me thinking…

How ironic is it that a scholar has the same aspirations as a drug dealer/rapper.

My scholarly friend had just purchased himself a new 7series Black BMW. He called to see if I was home before driving to my crib to show off his new ride. Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamn, that joint is fly! Massage seats, mirrors that fold in and rotate up at a ninety-degree angle, and an automated notepad that can record messages, thoughts, and pontifications while you are driving. Automatic windshield wipers that can sense weather conditions, regardless of rain, hail, sleet or snow. Here my friend was, someone who had spent years dedicating himself to higher learning, who in this moment was feeling himself like the drug dealer, Caine, from Menace to Society driving around in his new ride. I loved it. Where was the context in media for this kind of Black man?

I laughed when he told me about how his BMW had changed his life. Valet's, at restaurants now call him “sir”, women are checking out to see who he is, and business men confront him just to give respect. A meter maid asked what he had to do to get "a ride like that" before allowing him to park in a red zone. My friend coolly responded, “I’m a professor.”

Before the BMW,his family for years wondered why someone with all of his degrees, who they occasionally saw on TV, (not realizing that just because you’re on TV doesn’t mean you’re rich), was driving a hoopty. He was cleaning up his credit and responsibly putting his money aside for his house before indulging in materialistic desires. However, they couldn’t see that. Especially not his sixteen year old nephew who he had been trying to help stay out of trouble. He told me about the time his nephew was sent to stay with him and how he tried to talk to him about the rewards of owning a house, but the kid took one look at his hoopty and couldn’t hear a word. A house has abstract value, especially after the great crash, and especially to a sixteen year old. It wasn’t until his nephew saw his BMW did he emulate the cinematic emotion of that popular movie line, “Now you got the juice.”

What it boils down to is the American dream is the same inside the 'hood as it is out, and he had lived in both environments long enough to confirm this. His lectures suddenly hold more weight with both students and colleagues continuing to give him "the juice." Like he said, Before the BMW he was just a Negro with an opinion.

Have your Urban Chameleon story featured by e-mailing tickles.tv@gmail.com

Click here for: How the Urban Chameleon Came to be

How Do Black Men Handle White Angst?

by today's Urban Chameleon contributor

It’s happened a few times now where I’ve been out at a bar and some drunk white guy says something real disrespectful that channels my ‘hood instincts…

Last night, a childhood friend stopped by, he was passing through Atlanta on his way to Santa Fe, New Mexico to purchase new artwork for his collection. Here we are a couple of brothers catching up on politics, social injustices and ways to solve the problems of our communities.

We decided to grab a couple of beers at a spot down the street. The place was crowded, but I saw this white guy get up and begin to move away from the table or shall I say stumble away. I asked if he was finished and he turns to me and says, “I’m done when I say I’m done boy.”

In that very moment it didn’t matter that I was a PH.D, Fulbright Scholar, tenure professor who has written three books with a new release on the way. I was a man who had just been disrespected and was ready to rumble. I knew how Skip Gates felt when that cop was on his property; all the bullsh*t that’s been swallowed to get to where I am and I’m still chewing.

This white man had no idea that where I grew up people were shot and killed for reasons not nearly as valid as this. My boy stepped in reminding me that I had a 9AM class to teach. For an Urban Chameleon in this kind of situation you always have to ask your self is it worth kicking his ass.

Have your Urban Chameleon story featured by e-mailing tickles.tv@gmail.com

Click here for: How the Urban Chameleon Came to be

Urban Chameleon "Create Your Own Media" Live Event

This past summer, Urban Chameleon Media had its first live event in Atlanta by adapting and featuring some of the HOTUC stories contributed by our community! Guest readers included:

JELANI COBB, History Professor and Author of “The Substance of Hope: Barack Obama & The Paradox of Progress”

Performing: "Don't Let the Kenneth Cole Fool Ya" (original title: Does the term "Oreo" always haunt the Urban Chameleon" & "Black Vegans"

DENATALIE PHILLIPS, Publicist and Performing Artist

Performing: "My Cousin's Opinion on Health Care" & "The Misperceptions About Africa: It's a Continent Not a Country"

FAHAMU PECOU, Ground breaking Visual Artist featured at the High Museum

Performing: "You Betta (Find) Work!" & "Ashy Elbows"

ARTURO LINDSAY, Educator, Artist and Editor of “Santeria Aesthetics in Contemporary Latin American Art” published by the Smithsonian Institution Press

Performing: "The First and Last Black Man at the Country Club" & "What Do You Mean Jorge Doesn't Speak Spanish" (originally titled: When Another Spanish Person Tries to Play You"

Thanks to our evolving Urban Chameleon community we are able to continue to spread the multifaceted experiences that challenge stereotypes and provide an in yo’ face perspective on real issues that affect us.

Watch the Urban Chameleon experience here!

Have your Urban Chameleon stories featured by e-mailing stories to tickles.tv@gmail.com

Click here for: How the Urban Chameleon Came to be

Crack boo Where Are You?

by today's Urban Chameleon contributor

I work for one of the largest PR firms in the metro Atlanta area. I don’t make a whole lot of money, but a couple of years ago I decided to invest my hard earned dollars into my first piece of property. The neighborhood isn't the sheikest, but I’ve created an oasis in my ‘hood.

Owning a home was a dream come true, but keeping up the property was a nightmare; someone has to shovel snow in the winter and pick up leaves in the fall. You can imagine my delight when God answered by prayers. God blessed me with a crack head who knocked on my door one night offering to pick up the leaves from my front yard for $5.00. At first, I was skeptical, but I took one look at all those leaves and said ok. Now some people may think I was taking advantage of this woman but she set the price and, as far as I was concerned, it was a win/win for everyone.

About five minutes later crack boo knocked on my door. She had piled up every single leaf and asked if I had a trash bag. She then offered to clear the gutter for another $5.00; couldn’t say no to that deal either. She was back at my door in five minutes and the gutter was clear. Crack boo was averaging $1.00 a minute.

I have no idea how crack boo got on top of my roof with no ladder or cleaned up those leaves with no rake. All I know is crack boo was fast and never bothered me for any tools, not that I had any to offer.

This relationship went on for several months. Once a week crack boo continued to expand her list of services. She even offered to wash my car. Guess how much? $5.00! But I decided against that service because I never saw any water and I can’t be rolling around town with spit shine. Other than that, I couldn’t complain. I wouldn’t have been able to afford my mortgage payment if I had to pay market price for these services.

Eventually, I stopped hearing from crack boo. I didn’t know if she got locked up, strung out or moved on to different neighborhood. Maybe she got clean. All I know is life has not been the same with out crack boo.

Have your Urban Chameleon story featured by e-mailing tickles.tv@gmail.com

Click here for: How the Urban Chameleon Came to be

Why Chinese People in China Are So Fascinated With Black People

by today’s urban Chameleon contributor

I was recently introduced to a young woman who had just finished touring with a singing group in China and said that everywhere she went people stared at her. When she first landed in the foreign country she was very uncomfortable. One man ran into a pole while staring. She soon learned of their belief that Black people have tails; which is why our butts are so big! Isn't it amazing how ignorance and imagination can be so closely connected?

She described a frightening scene in front of The Great Wall of China where a busload of people got off and charged her. Her first instinct was to mentally prepare to kick some ass. But the crowd surrounded her instead to admire her skin, hair, and even asked if she would hold their babies. The story sounded like an awkward combination of paparazzi and a petting zoo. After accepting the circumstances, the hustler in her decided to start charging 10 yuan per admirer.

Have your Urban Chameleon story featured by e-mailing tickles.tv@gmail.com

Click here for: How the Urban Chameleon Came to be