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Wednesday, May 25, 2016

Don't forget they are someone's baby

Living in DC and taking the metro regularly provides me with ample fodder for social analysis and ample opportunities to be upset and amazed by humanity. For example, I get upset when able-bodied people see disabled, elderly, or pregnant people standing and sit in their seats anyway. Especially while pregnant, I spoke up very loudly (ex. As able-bodied men crowded on an elevator as I waddled to catch the door for a man in a wheelchair. I stared everyone down and said someone needs to get off so he can get on; we were obliged begrudgingly.). I am amazed when folks step in and help someone in need during an emergency.


An issue of growing contention in my neck of the woods is middle and high school students getting onto crowded trains. They are loud and there is often cursing involved. However, I have noticed that most of the adults regard them in a very unfriendly way or simply ignore them. The local listservs I am a member of are far worse; the disdain for these children is palpable and I have had to step in several times when the racism and classism became unbearable as well-to-do grown folks called children thugs, crooks, and goons. It literally hurts my heart!


I personally make it a point to acknowledge these teenagers every chance I get with a smile or a hello; sometimes I’m ignored or begrudgingly acknowledged, but oftentimes you can tell these young people relish the positive attention and are surprised to have been seen. I remind myself regularly that they are someone’s baby no matter how “hard” they are appearing to be. No matter how many tattoos they may have on their young skin. No matter how many curse words they and their friends yell. And I try to remember that someday my little Zo will be one of these students taking the train and I hope that others will treat him well knowing that he too is someone’s baby. My husband and I are well-read in the studies that show that Black boys like my Zo are seen as being older than they are by the majority and less innocent than they are by police (see FURTHER READING below). We know the sickening statistics of disproportionate violence against boys that look like him. We pray that folks will remember these children are someone’s baby and that he is ours.


To bring it back home to the DC metro, the other day on the train a handsome young man with beautifully styled locs and sagging skinny-jeans and a uniform high school shirt  entered the train with a young woman I assume was his girlfriend. His new-aged rap music (the kind old hip-hop heads like me can’t understand and abhor due to the crazy amounts of auto-tune) was blasting. Adults bristled. Some sucked their teeth. He walked on the train and I smiled at him, he was visibly surprised, smiled back sweetly and sat directly behind me. Every other word of his song was f--- this and blast that. I turned and said as gently and respectfully as I could “Sweetheart, don’t you have headphones or something? My old ears just cannot take all of that cursing.” He said quickly “Ohhhhh my bad! My headphones broke and I don’t have another pair, My bad!!!” I pulled out a set of headphones from my bag and said “here, you can have these!” He smiled and said “For real?!? You serious?!? Thank you so much!” And just like that - connection. Respect. Compassion. His mama would be happy.


It could have ended differently. Someone else could have started cursing at him. He could have rebuffed my offer and cussed me out. But it ended wonderfully. And I modeled appropriate, compassionate behavior for children and adults alike.


I exited the train at my stop and wished him and his lady a good day and he did so too.
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FURTHER READING:



8 comments:

  1. Great post. So important. Thank you for sharing.

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  2. Fellow DC Metro rider here. Love this so much.

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  3. Fantastic Mommabee. We have no DC metro in the Deep South, but this message is universal.

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  4. love love love this. We don't have a metro here; we have the mall and I hear the same comments, often about my daughter's friends and sometimes my daughter, if they don't know who I am and who she is - after all, she bares her midriff! And wears short shorts! If she had tats, well, I can just imagine. And never mind if her African heritage was actually evident (one of her bio grandparents was Jamaican.) I will redouble my efforts to engage kids after reading this. Thanks.

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  5. People can be so crappy to teenagers, particularly non-white teenagers. Thanks for the reminder that they are people too. Remember we were all teenagers too at one time!!

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  6. Greetings peeps - glad that you enjoyed it! It was such a heart-warming encounter that I just had to share it. Did anyone read the links? Pretty distressing, huh?

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    1. Distressing and scary, for those of us with African-American sons. One can only read so many of these articles in a day...sometimes it's interesting and sometimes it's just too daunting to imagine it all.

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  7. Well said. I really loved this piece. People forget common sense sometimes and to try the basic road first--addressing someone (even teenagers!) with respect is the best way to get respect in return! I think we all learned that in kindergarten and forgot...

    Great post, mommabee.

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