It’s late morning on a Tuesday and I’ve nearly arrived at my hotel in Pittsburg, PA. As I attempt to focus my attention on both the road and Google Maps on my iPhone, I notice that I’m traveling through a residential area. Pausing at a stop sign I take one last look at my directions and turn more of my focus on the neighborhood I’m driving through. If I’m going to be staying in this area for two nights I’d like to see if I can determine whether or not safety might be an issue. Two minutes into my foray it seems clear to me that I’m driving through a working class, mostly white, neighborhood. Not an ideal place for a young black male, but certainly not a place that raises serious safety red flags. This sentiment quickly fades as I make my final turn onto the hotel road and look to the house on the left. Suspended from this citizen’s porch is a giant American flag accompanied by an equally giant confederate flag. Well fuck!
First and foremost I’m simply stunned. I didn't expect to see such a thing in Pittsburg. My second thought, I’ve got to find another hotel. My third thought, I hope no one has spotted the 27 year old black male driving through the neighborhood in his silver sports car with out of state tags and decided to call the police to give me a friendly ‘hello’. My final thought, this has got to be, at best, a neighborhood with at least one other household that shares the values so tastefully displayed before my eyes. What kind of neighborhood allows one of its citizens to display such a problematic symbol of hatred, murder, and racism? Clearly the resident(s) of this home felt comfortable/secure enough to boldly display their support for a way of life that represents pain and suffering for an entire racial group in this country.
I didn’t have time to mull over these thoughts for too long, as I had to get to a seminar at the conference I was in Pittsburg to attend. Later on, however, I revisited this experience in a different context. I began to wonder if my white counterparts in ecology might have a similar racially charged context they deal with in life. It took me about as long to answer that question as it took you to laugh after reading it. I strongly suspect that such an experience would have a different, and much less measured effect on the majority of individuals I was sharing this conference with. So what follows is a series of questions and/or thoughts meant to give those who may not know a glimpse at a genre of internal dialogue that I experience on a fairly regular basis.
Do you see that giant confederate flag?
Do you see the neighbors that support that flag?
Do you see the silent neighbors afraid to speak out against that flag?
Do you see that Obama is only another (big) step in the right direction?
Do you see a post-racial society?
Do you see that I’m genuinely concerned about my safety?
Do you see that I think this whole situation is unfair because most others wouldn’t be worried?
Do you see that I’m spending half an hour on my phone calling other hotels to see if they have any vacant rooms?
Do you see that this is going to cost me $80 more?
Do you see that there are no other rooms in the city?
Do you see that I have no other choice but to return to a place where I’m worried about being seen, having my car broken into, being stopped by police, or worse?
Do you see that I’ve missed an afternoon session because I was on the phone?
Do you know the names Emmett Till and Amadou Diallo?
Do you see that I haven’t even thought about the presentation I have to give at 8AM tomorrow morning?
Do you see me checking my car five times before I go to bed?
Do you see me cancelling a dinner with friends partially because I’m worried about returning to this neighborhood at night?
Do you hear me not mentioning any of this to my friends?
Do you see me nervously wondering if the receptionist lives in the neighborhood I just drove through?
Do you see the suspicious glances I cast at every white person I see in and around the hotel?
Do you see the guilt on my face afterwards?
Do you hear hatred and fear laugh and cheer?
Do you see the concern on my face when I wake up in the morning, wondering if my car is still in the parking lot?
Do you see me leave the hotel 20 minutes late because I want it to be a little brighter outside before I leave?
Do you see me speeding down the highway to make up time?
Do you see me notice that the overwhelming majority of workers in the conference center are black?
Do you see me notice that the overwhelming majority of scientists in the conference center aren’t?
Do you see a tinge on sadness on my face as I contemplate these thoughts?
Do you see the surprise on the black workers’ faces when I walk in with my nametag?
Do you see that I’ve noticed only four other black males with nametags like mine at this conference in two days?
Do you see that I have spent most of the morning thinking about my race and my people’s history?
Do you see my silent sigh as I glance at the timeline of ecology and see only old white men?
Do you see me wonder if that bothers you as much as it bothers me?
Do you see that simply I don’t have the option to freak out about my presentation because I don’t have the time?
Do you see that I’ve had to get good at public speaking by age ten because there’s a lot I think about besides my annunciation?
Do you see the bead of sweat that runs down the side of my face as I drive past that confederate flag for a second time?
Did you see that I didn’t sweat during my presentation?
Do you see that the air conditioning is on in my car?
Do you see my relief as I check out of my hotel room?
Do you see that not one of these thoughts has to do with my academic field of study?
Do you see that I decided to stay one night instead of two?
