I AM Suspicious

Sitting in my car listening to a podcast yesterday, I did not know that there was a chance that I could have been pegged as some sort of shady individual. I learned that's just what happened when I returned from my break. It was said that one of the employees returning from lunch noticed a suspicious looking Black man sitting in a car listening to loud music. She was then advised to inform security. Facing the accuser, I had to make the decision to give her the "not all Black people are suspicious" talk or let it go. I chose the latter for no other reason that it wouldn't meant shit to her. She's white, has plans to become a doctor, is young, and most of all is white. Not only that, I was at work, and there's really no reason to raise the racial tension more than its normal high level.

Today, less than 24 hours later, I can't help but feel angry. Dancing around in my head are the words of Don Lemon, Bill O'Reilly, Geraldo, and other experts on what Black people need to do to better themselves. The facts are that I was sitting in the parking lot of my employer on my lunch break in my car listening to one of my favorite podcasters to unwind from a job that causes me all types of mental stress. The podcast, by the way, contained no music. So what was suspicious? What was I doing that would cause a threat to people? Would I be as suspicious if I was white? So Mr. Lemon and friends, I ask what should I have done to avoid the wary eye of a young white woman? My car is Toyota Camry with no bells and whistles. My company's dress code requires me to wear a shirt and tie at the minimum; a sports coat is suggested. No hoodies, no rims, no loud bumping music, no littering. Still suspicious though.

*pause Cee Lo is speaking on Fighting* 

Any way, I'm about to be 33, and I've lived over half my life conscious of the fact that how I carry myself is more important than my white peers. Which is funny, when I hear people try to down play Trayvon Martin's awareness of racial implications in the events that  led to his death on the grounds that he was 17. My classmates and I can say with little doubt that we have been aware of race relations since the age of 12 or so. Many other Blacks can attest to the same. With that knowledge, imagine if some authority was to approach me while sitting in my car. Would I be wrong to come off as agitated given these factors? Does this agitation lead to me being detained? Arrested even? Does my car get searched? All this for living while Black.

I'm not mad at the young lady that made this observation. I find it funny that she felt relieved at the thought that it was not me, something that I have not addressed. The Black employees found the whole situation amusingly disturbing. I know they are fully in tuned to the undertone. That undertone is what angers me. The fact that suspicion doesn't have any associated action but consistently has a skin color, a race. I am upset that society has painted people like me as less than people in situations that they seem to be out of place. What the fuck did we do? I guess the simple answer is to stop being Black and cease to exist. I wish her no ill will because for the rest of her life "those niggas" will just be suspicious folk to report to someone. Society has deemed that to be the fact.

Black people don't need to do shit. You privileged muthafuckas need to accept people that don't look like you. Until you can accept that, we don't want to hear your Black Improvement agenda. The same goes for the righteous Blacks that give out "tough love". Take that shit and shove it up your tight ass.