Thursday, March 1, 2012

"House Nigger"

So as we come to the end of Black History Month, and I reflected on what it means to me, I am reminded of a story that happened to me recently:

I was trying to cross the street one afternoon at a busy intersection near home. It was a nice mild day out, and I was in full prep gear: a corduroy sport jacket, sweater, button down shirt, khaki pants, argyle socks and loafers. I made it halfway across the street, then stopped on the island as the light changed. While I stood on the island, I noticed a pair of Black women in an SUV, waiting to make a left turn, alternately looking at me and talking to each other. I didn't think much of it at first, but then as the truck was pulling off to make the turn, the window rolled down, and the women yelled "House Nigger!" at me as the SUV sped away. I stood there for a moment and watched the car drive away, feeling a strange mixture of anger, sadness, amusement, and above all, confusion. This wasn't the first time I had been called a "house nigger" or "Uncle Tom", or been accused of "trying to be White", but usually I had to be saying or doing something for someone to issue such an epithet in response. To be accused of House Niggeration while just standing around was a new one for me...

To Be Continued...

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