The Ramblings of a Black Woman

As the month of February comes to an end, I decided to add my ramblings to this series I have started for Black History Month. I decided to do this after encountering a strange individual while having coffee with a friend the other day. I am not quite sure the gentlemen thought he had a right to say what he did, but although I did not agree with it, I respected his right to voice his opinion.

Last Thursday while having coffee with a friend, a gentlemen, dressed and appearing to be "normal", approached our table. Now, if you know me or have met me, you will know that part of my head is shaved and I wear waist length twists. I also have tattoos and am a pastor, but that is not important at this time. As my friend and I were talking, the gentlemen passed by our table and said loudly, "That haircut will definitely scare the crap out of the Republicans." At the moment, my friend stopped talking and looked at me, as did two young men sitting two table away from us. She asked me what he said. I responded with, "Nothing I am interesting in knowing." Because I truly wasn't. I heard what he said and chose to ignore it instead of making a scene.

As the two young men and my friend looked at the gentlemen, still walking around our table, he added another statement. "God Bless You." Now, that is something I will accept. I will always accept a blessing even if it is sprinkled with sarcasm.

Over the time I have been here on this beautiful planet, I have encountered many other individuals who believed they had a right to say what they said or do what they did. Now, I do not think this gentleman was picking me out because of my color, just my hairstyle, but the other encounters were because of my color. I can remember every last one of them, but will share one for now.

The first happened when I was about nine. Some friends and I attended a school function in a white part of town in Philadelphia. We were in grade school at the time and our parents decided to let us go because we would be in a large enough group and the school was sponsoring the event. When we arrived at our destination (a skating rink), there were several white boys standing across the street just staring at us. They were dressed in work pants, t-shirts, long coats, and sneakers. Their hair was slicked back and they all had chains in their hands. I remembered my best friend being worried and I said to her that it would be okay.

After several hours of fun, we left, walking in a group to the public transportation stop a few blocks away. The boys we saw earlier were still across the street and they followed us shouting obscenities as we walked. I decided it was best to ignore them...at least that is what I thought. As we waited for the trolley, the came closer and closer. I knew something was going to happen, but did not know that it would be as brutal.

Finally, the trolley was coming, as it reached us, the boys ran across the street and began spitting and whipping us with the chains. I pushed my best friend onto the trolley and two of the other girl who were with us. As I tried to step on the trolley, one of the boys grabbed my leg and pulled me down onto the street while the others kept hitting me with the chains. I curled up in a ball and could hear my friends screaming. Then, just as quick as it started, it stopped. The trolley driver was standing over me hitting those boys with a crowbar. He picked me up and helped me on the trolley.

He kept asking me over and over if I was alright. My only answer was, "but you're white. too." He laughed and said, "we ain't all bad." I hugged him. I did suffer broken glasses, a sprained ankle and several bruises and cuts. But what I remember most about that day was how a stranger, no matter what his color, saved me. He didn't look at my color and decide. He helped because I needed help.

The point of me sharing this story is to let you know that color should not matter. We are all children of God. Yes, we will have many differences, but in the end, we are all family with the same Father. We were put here to live together, love one another. Not hate, kill, or discriminate.

I hope you have enjoyed my mini series on Black History. I do have one more entry to this series on Tuesday. I am not quite sure what I am going to write about, but whatever it is, I hope it will inspire you to make that change the world so desperately needs.

Until next time, make that change!