| Mr Angry Black Man |
| Present - Here and Now | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Sunday, 11 January 2009 | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
I was at an after church service pot luck. I had just dished my food and was looking for a place to sit. There weren't many seats left, and I didn't want to look like the poor helpless visitor waiting for someone to seat me, so I chose the most inviting seat I could find near the front of the hall. The table seemed to sit a group of very inviting people of various ages, so I thought it was a good choice. So I thought...until I sat down to find out that the gentleman to my right - who actually wasn't very gentle - had an agenda, an issue, a bone to pick, a chip on his shoulder, all of the above and much much more, and to the discomfort of the two white ladies sitting by him, and indeed the rest of the table, he had chosen this very day, this very moment at the lunch table, to express himself. His topic was race, and he didn't see fit to sugar coat his words... It was the two poor white ladies I felt most sorry for. They were clearly uncomfortable at Mr Angry Black Mans chosen topic of race, specifically Black people. They just wanted to enjoy a nice Sabbath lunch. Unfortunately that was not to happen. To be honest when I sat down, I was intrigued at the conversation. Mr Angry was discussing the issue of race with the ladies, and as a person who is always up for a interesting conversation, I thought I may be able to learn something. It wasn't until a few minutes later that I realised, it was less discussing, and more schooling whoever was within earshot of his words. He was discussing why the Black man was down in society, how they weren't being educated properly, how reparations for slavery and colonialism were owed and were yet to be collected, how East Coast Black people had it together, and West Coast Black people just didn't care about education, about how the lower classes in society were important and were being neglected by government and that their culture was important, and not valued by society, and how upper class people were totally void of culture in any valuable form to society at all... I don't know what sparked the conversation, but if by chance it was anything that the white ladies had said, by this stage they would have been in deep regret of their words. However, from observing Mr Angry he could well have started the conversation all on his own, and decided that these two ladies needed to be taught a little something. He seemed to go on an on and on about nothing in particular, but everything at once, at times raising his voice and drawing attention from those on other tables. I sat and listened as he continued to vent. He seemed to be quite an intelligent person, but I felt that his opinions were not altogether fair, and often included sweeping generalizations. I wasn't sure of his qualifications or experience in the topics of discussion other than being a Black man, but he did state that he had lived on the East Coast for 21 years, and on the West Coast for 11. At times the ladies would interject by stating that one could not generalise about such issues, and at one point when he stated that Black people had been downtrodden, one of the ladies mentioned that one should not have a defeatist attitude, and should try and pull oneself up by their bootstraps. To which Mr Angry answered: "The problem is my people didn't even have the money to afford to buy boots to be able to pull the straps up!" Fair point, I thought, if we were living in the 1950's in the deep south. He seemed to have an answer to everything and would accept no reply the ladies seemed to offer. Before I initially sat down, before I knew what was going on, I had interrupted Mr Angry to ask if the seat next to him was empty. He looked in my direction but said nothing. I assumed that he was too engrossed in his own conversation to acknowledge my existence. However half way through his ranting. He took a break to recognise that indeed someone had sat next to him. He asked my name. I said 'K'. He immediately made the assumption that it was African, which was correct, however, I have no idea how he could have come to that conclusion from a one letter name. I stated that I came from Ghana, and unfortunately for the table, this answer gave birth to a whole 'nother conversation about the African link to the whole issue and more about reparations, which lasted for another while. Me being the quiet, timid, lazy person I often am, would, in any other similar situation, have kept my mouth shut and waited for the storm to die down. But in this situation I just couldn't. I am fast starting to realise that in a world that doesn't hesitate to show negative Black stereotypes, wherever possible a positive image must be shown. I felt that although this man was at times talking sense, he was doing it in a deeply negative and damaging way. He was living the example of the scary angry black man. In my opinion the era of the "uppity negro" had ended decades ago, and this was now the era of the educated intellectual black man, who knows how to navigate modern society, and when to comment on sensitive issues while considering race, class and gender in appropriate ways. I wanted to try and show myself as a counter image to Mr Angry for the people on the table, or whoever was listening. And so I interjected, or at least tried. Yes, the Black man had been wronged; yes reparations were owed; yes society at large was biased, racist, classist, and sexist, and things just weren't fair. What I wanted to know was why the hell he was telling these poor white women? As if they had any power whatsoever to change current situations. I tried to express my views by stating that much of what he had said was correct, however I stated that I felt he wasn't entirely correct in his viewpoint. I stated that yes we [Black people] had been wronged, but we had to start off by helping ourselves. I also stated that it was useless waiting for reparations and we had to start out by helping each other, and fixing our own societies. In my opinion if reparations are coming, it won't be any time soon, and probably won't be able to do much.The era of blaming was now over. Blaming others and mere complaining could not help. It was now about togetherness, about helping others, and recognizing that it was not only Blacks that had been wronged, but also South Americans, Asians and other Europeans. I also believe that the generation that had started all this was now gone (mostly) and it was now about re-educating the world as to what was going on. Most of this I tried to use in the conversation. Mr Angry didn't take to my comments very well, and started getting a little more irate. He started to attack viciously by stating "What the hell do you know, you're African!" To which I answered, "Actually, I'm mostly British", but I don't think he caught that part of the answer. Tension started to build on the table as the conversation inadvertently turned into argument. He continued on to remind me and tell the rest of the table that the flame of slavery was started or at least flamed by Africans selling other Africans to the white man, and that some tribes were more to blame. Was this guy, right here, right now blaming me for 400 years of slavery? Was this what the conversation had come to? It was at this moment that I started to realise that this man was probably not all there. Not from his micro rant, which had now come to an end, but from his following table etiquette and mannerism. During the conversation, while it was still a conversation and not yet a heated argument, he had left the table to acquire some desert. He came back to the table with the large cake platter which had one small remaining piece of cake. He had waited until after his micro rant to eat it. I can only assume that at this stage he was quite angry and was fast looking for something to comfort his feelings that I had obviously hurt. At this moment he placed his arm in-between the platter and myself and purposely moved it further away from me, in the same way a hen would protect her chicks from a predator. He then sat in such a way as to have his back facing me. It was almost like he was trying to stop me from stealing his food, even though I had never given the impression of even thinking such a thing. He was a grown man, possibly in his late 30s or early 40s. To my knowledge, they don't do stuff like this. I continued to talk, but this time using positive, kind, and understanding words, commending his previous insight where possible, in an attempt to console him. He kept quiet, for the first time in the conversation. I repeated that almost everything he had said was correct, and the answer was that we had to help each other, whoever, wherever we were. I took this as my queue to leave, as it seemed that the conversation had run its course. One of the white ladies had already left the table, and I didn't want things to go any further. I stated that the conversation had been interesting, and that I had to get going. I patted the gentlemen on the back, wished him a happy Sabbath, to which he stated something to the tune of "I give blessing to whatever good there is in your heart". I thanked him and left. I don't know if my contribution to the situation helped, or put the others on the table at ease. It definitely made things worse for a short while, but I would like to think it turned out ok in the end. [Source: Picture of Black Man from Alcohol Addiction Info.com] Related Arcticles
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