Shoulder chips necessary armor for U.S. minorities
A chip sits on my shoulder. Been there for a significant amount of time although some critics suggest losing the growth could produce a better life.
Not happening. The chip keeps me on guard, offers perspective about stark realities of life and all comprehensions referenced by MIchael Kiwanuka in “Black Man In A White World.”
No shoulder accessory could produce diminished awareness and loss sight of self. In the mental bump and grind of U.S. racial politics, soft blacks, pliable Latinos, muted Asians,and women, etc., a person could forfeit soul and self-respect with implementation of sanguine social diplomacy.
The chip showed on Sunday as my girlfriend joined me for brunch. We waited patiently outside Lambertville Station while a host exchanged conversation with a young female employee.
Several minutes passed with no acknowledgment of our presence. A Caucasian couple arrived and stood behind us and to our right.
Two more minutes passed before the host, a 50-something or older white male, turned and signaled for the other couple to step forward.
We kinda, sorta avoided a situation as the couple behind us noted our front of the line position. Our first time at Lambertville Station had started poorly, especially when the chip appeared.
The chip works like a GPS system, routing emotional and societal direction with a mental reminder — don’t forget your blackness, bro.
Our reservation held seating inside. We entered and announced our 11:30 appointment. A woman escorted us upstairs.
Every moment after our disappointing arrival played wonderfully as server Marissa offered perfect measured attention.
Every person, in what seemed like a United Nations service staff, who visited our table were respectfully pleasant while our meals from opening appetizer oysters to almond cherry tart dessert delivered satisfaction. Our cellphones produced no interruption as Sunday brunch inside Lambertville Station surpassed expectation.
Still, our interesting conversation always drifted back to the arrival and only because a lifetime running score exists with moments like these. So, when ignorance, bias, prejudice, racism, error in initial assessment, etc. or whatever occurred before our being seated, a GPS Chip Monitoring device pulled up all history from the past.
In fact, came home and processed the incident with George McNair, an 80-something African American male who has lived through the ages of colored, Negro, and black.
Actually, we shared one of these moments years back at Ridgewood CC in Paramus during a LIFE Event - LPGA Pros in the Fight to Eradicate Breast Cancer event.
Hosted by Val Skinner, the day of awareness included numerous LPGA stars playing golf to raise money for cancer research.
Played with pro Kelli Kuehne that day, enjoyed a luncheon then headed out. Did one more interview near the front steps of Ridgewood as McNair waited.
Two white guys approached and one pushed a ticket toward McNair then asked if he could retrieve his car. “I’m not the valet,” McNair said, his tongue tinged with soft rebuke.
Undaunted. The guy made another attempt.
“Well, what about him?,” he inquired with me as his object of interest. We were two black men with chips on our shoulders.
Lessons learned from an earlier life of restaurant employment underscores a requirement for separation from personal beliefs and business. Successful enterprise demands equality as bottom lines matter.
By the way, the GPS Chip Monitoring device records positive experiences. We had dinner last month at King George II Restaurant in Bristol, Pa. and Bruce, a Caucasian part-owner, visited our table with fist daps and an invitation for another visit. Even Chef Fabian arrived after hearing my girlfriend hails from his native country Costa Rica.
“Come back when the weather’s nice and sit outside near the river,” Bruce implored.
Thank goodness the GPS Chip Monitoring System resets with each new person.