BLACK LIKE ME


early afternoon april 6 good friday

temp in the upper 60s somewhat overcast and as
quiet as urban los angeles can be on a weekday.
after scanning the net and posting a comment or
two i decide to go for a walk and pick up a copy
of the LA WEEKLY

dressed innocuously in white corderoy pants form
fitting white tee shirt, unbuttoned grey long sleeve shirt
grey embroidered skullcap, teva sandels and dark
safety glasses i leave my house

i set off westward crossing broadway, over the I-110
freeway across figueroa hoover vermont and finally
turn north onto budlong avenue. en route i briefly chat
with a homeless man who lived for a time in the alley
behind my house. he asks for change to buy a beer.
i give a dollar. next i pass a black woman carrying a
plastic bag of groceries in each hand. i smile and say hi
she passes in icy silence

i reach my destination, the vermont square library.
the LA WEEKLY isn't available. after a moments
consideration i continue northbound to the campus of USC
where the WEEKLY can always be found. due to recent
years of immigration, cheap labor and low refinancing rates,
the majority of the houses i walk by have been renovated
and would not look out of place in wealthier neighborhoods

the residents are another story though

nearly everyone female and male are dressed in
supermax prison chic. baggy black pants and tees
or hoodies. baseball style caps and trainers of various
colors on both young and not so young. i look completely
out of place. a smile is nowhere to be found and no one
speaks unless i do so first. and rarely more than a grunt
or single syllable in reply

at 37th street i turn east. crossing vermont, i enter
exposition park. it was the main site of the 1984 olympics.
the walkway i am on is very wide and jogging towards
me is a young white woman, obviously a student at USC.
though it is mid-day and now sunny she gives me a wide
berth nearly going onto the roadway. she returns to
the walkway after passing

i turn left, walk between the rose garden and natural
history museum and cross exposition blvd. at an entrance
to the university grounds is a row of newspaper stands
one of which holds the LA WEEKLY. from my rear pants
pocket i pull out a plastic bag and place in it a copy
of the WEEKLY and of CITY BEAT

a few feet away is a stop for a bus which will drop me
within three blocks of my home. i walk over and wait
on a shaded patch of grass. glancing for the bus
i see a young east asian woman, most likely a student,
walking in my direction along the walkway. as she
approaches, she moves as far away from me as she
can without stepping into the street. after passing
she returns to the walkway

ten minutes later the bus is comes. i move to the curb
and signal for the bus. instead of stopping in front of me
the driver who clearly sees me halts a distance ahead.
i walk to the entrance and board. the young black
female driver stares straight ahead. there is a look of
disdain almost hatred on her. for a very brief moment
i think of smashing my fist into face. the day's earlier
slights have me near the edge. instead i deposit the fare
and take a seat at the rear

on the way to my destination the bus fills with high school
students. a group of girls and young women are seated
around me. they are girls and women in name only.
from their mouths come loud vulgar language.
i have lived travelled and worked in countries where
women have endured the horrors of war afghanistan
cambodia kashmir palestine sudan vietnam and many
others. yet they remain women soft spoken and feminine

during the walk from the bus stand home, a latina
woman ahead of me looks over her shoulder sees
me then clutches her purse close to her body
i want to cry ! i want to scream ! i want to yell !

instead i hurry home

once inside the solitude of my home i run to the first
bedroom. on the closet door there is a full length mirror.
i stand there and look. looking for the beast that everyone
else sees. i go to the second bedroom and stare into
a mirror above a chest of drawers. where is the bete noir
visible to others? i finally go and look into the bathroom
mirror. surely there the monster will be revealed

in each reflection all i observe is a middle aged man
dressed innocuously and with a modest black grey beard
and moustache. but obviously there is something else.
some horrible sight that only can be seen by others
whenever i leave my home

so i say to you on this time of religious celebration, pray

pray every day and every night and to each and every deity

and thank them that you are blessed not to be black like me