At the Crossroads: Race & Power: The Struggle for Self Esteem & Self-Validation

Staying Calm Everyday May Keep the Jailhouse and Judge Away

 

Recently I had an experience which typifies why we as African-American men want to balance being vigilant with maintaining our calm on a daily basis.  The experience occurred in Seattle, Washington, in the neighborhood where I maintain my practice.
 

To provide some background information, my office is located in a hybrid commercial and residential community approximately 15 minutes east of downtown Seattle known as Madison Park.  I have practiced in this same location for more than 25 years.
 

The day was like any other typical day.  After leaving my office, I ran a few errands in the neighborhood, visited the bank and then waited for the transit bus in this plush, upper class community just inland from Lake Washington.  The neighborhood is informally referred to as the “Gold Coast” due to the significant wealth in the area.
 

As one of the few African-Americans frequenting the local bank, restaurants and other business, I have grown accustomed to the numerous looks and stares I receive while moving about the community.  I know my money is as good others in the community and I have the right to move about and handle my affairs undisturbed.  Other than the occasional lingering stare, I am left alone.  

So on this particular day after completing my affairs, I entered the bus and showed my bus transfer to the driver who, like me, was an African-American male.
 

As I proceeded to sit down, the driver suddenly demanded that I return and show him my bus transfer again.  I was puzzled as to why, being that the transfer had 45 minutes left prior to expiring.  

Upon presenting the transfer for the second time, I asked the driver whether he had any questions. 

Laughing loudly he replied, “no, I don’t have any questions, but I am going to let you go this time.”

I was shocked.  Puzzled, I was wondering what did he mean by, “ I am going to let you go this time?”  When I asked for his name, he replied, in a loud laughing manner, “You ought to chill out and not take things so seriously.”  
 

His voice and laughter were loud.  He comments to me where so loud that they could be heard by sitting passengers as well as those approaching the bus.  I was angry.  I had been publicly humiliated due to no cause or actions of my own.

The following questions came to me:

·      Why was this happening to me?

·      What do I do now?

·      Do I ignore this insult?

·      If so, what does this say about me?

·      How do I handle this?

·      All of this about a bus transfer?!
 

One thought repeatedly came to me…ABC…ABC…ABC…angry, black, and (out) of control.  I could visualize myself being handcuffed, taken off the bus, placed in the back of a police car, taken to jail, being fingerprinted, booked and off to be arraigned before the judge.  Another one (i.e., black man) locked down.  Society is once again safe from the raging, blazing black man.
 

Fear.  Fear is a powerful emotion.  Fear can be the African-American man’s best friend during these times.  Fear, for the African-American man, can serve as a reminder that he is alone.  Fear can keep him alert of his situation, aware of his surroundings and most important, alive.  I want fear.  I want to stay alive.  Age 60 is right around the corner.
 

The next actions I take (or don’t) could have a strong impact on the rest of my life. 

·      Do I walk away?  Or do I advocate for myself?

·      Do I surrender to behavior that reinforces the negative stereotypes perceived of black men?  Or do I seek balance in my life?

·      Can I resolve this issue in a manner that does not place me at further risk of harm? Danger?
 

Just imagine; all of these thoughts are moving swiftly through my mind in a matter of moments.  It feels like an eternity.  Fear.  I don’t want to “live in” fear.  I want to be able to “live with” fear.  

I chose to create and follow another set of ABC’s.  Advocacy, balance and calm.  Specifically, I wanted to advocate for myself, return balance to the psychological self, and be able to accomplish both in a calm manner that would minimize further disruption.
 

As I departed the bus, I handed my business card to the transit operator and told him that I was filing a formal complaint against him and wanted him to know who made the complaint.”  As I walked away, the transit operator pulled the bus to keep pace with me, opened the door and threw my business card on the sidewalk where it landed slightly in front of me.
 

I have since filed a formal complaint detailing the driver’s comments and behavior on that ordinary day.  It is unclear as to what, if any actions Metro Transit will take regarding this matter.  However, for me, I have managed to bring the issue to closure in a healthy manner without placing myself at further risk, harm or potential jeopardy of losing my freedom.   Once again the question, all of this over a bus transfer?
 

No.  To the conscious person it “appears” to be unprofessional conduct associated with a bus transfer.  However, the transfer was the bait the driver used to set up a power trap.  The real issues are about race, power (or the lack of), and lack of self-esteem and self-validation.  
 

It is my belief that the driver targeted me specifically because like him I am an African-American alone and perceivably isolated within a Caucasian community.  I believe that the driver’s act of demanding a second inspection of the bus transfer was a pretense to reinforce his self-esteem and showcase his “power” to the other passengers.
 

Of course there is no way I can prove this belief to be true.  I can only go with what I feel based on this experience and similar past experiences.  Whether right or wrong about the driver’s motivations, the point is that I was at risk by simply using public transportation.  Yet, the potential danger was not a result of unruly passengers or unsafe driving conditions.  Rather, the danger arose from the person designated to drive passengers to destinations throughout the city.
 

Just imagine leaving your home on a sunny afternoon day, minding your business and meandering through your errands while quietly humming your favorite song to yourself.  Abruptly, and without warning, life as you know it, including your livelihood is placed at risk as you simply attempt to ride the bus.  On the surface some might consider this perspective a paranoid overreaction.
 

No, I am not crazy, nor am I paranoid.  I am vigilant.  Yes, I was at risk not so much because I was made to get out of my seat and suffer mild humiliation to give another a sense of self-importance.  The risk came from how I chose to respond.  The varying ways I could have reacted to the situation could strongly and negatively impact my future and my freedom.
 

Professional, college educated, published author and nationally recognized in my clinical field, and although I have never been arrested, my livelihood and freedom became dependent on how I handled myself in managing something as seemingly innocuous as using a bus transfer.
 

I thank my Jesus that I was able to recall my “empowerment.”   As a clinician I write “beacons” which are frameworks for the Journey known as life.  One such beacon is the Five R’s i.e. Respite, Reaction, Reflection, Response and Reevaluate.  It goes like this:

·      Respite - step aside, breath, take a time out;

·      Reaction - take ownership of your feelings;

·      Reflection - think, feel and listen to the psychological self;

·      Response – present to the external world what is needed to minimize risk.  Your reaction and response need not be the same.

·      Reevaluate-review the experience. Explore what was learned and what can be done when a similar incident occurs again.
 

I feel for the driver.  Perhaps there is a need for self-importance.  Perhaps this is about dealing with his own anger about being abused by others as he operates the bus.  It may be that he has a need to make himself feel validated and powerful by targeting others.  
 

If nothing is learned from this, the driver may return to the same route (or another) with the same anger and lack of power.  If so, the driver will no doubt lie in wait with his bait to abuse another unsuspecting passenger whose only mistake was to ride his bus on that fateful day.  Just another day.  I wonder whether the driver will be more cautious in selecting his next prey.
 

I get it.  I got it.  Mr. Driver, I understand and share your pain.  As an African-American man, I understand the importance of looking in the mirror and to have self-respect for the “reflection” staring at you.  I understand the pain you feel about being disrespected by others.  I too have the same questions that you have, i.e. what about the bullshit I had to put up with today.  And what bullshit will I have to put up with tomorrow?
 

However, the empowerment of self-esteem and self-validation one seeks must come within the psychological self.  When such is obtained externally through the subjection, submission and humiliation of others, the taste of “satisfaction” is shortly nourished and thus always in demand of being replenished. 
 

As for me, my Jesus was with me that day.  I was able to advocate for myself, maintain my balance and do both in a calm manner.  Yet, I wonder, what about next time?  Will I be so blessed?

Will I be able to maintain my freedom, my livelihood and future?  This time the risk or danger i.e. “the bait” was a bus transfer.  I wonder what the “bait” will be next time.  
 

I am truly blessed.  Tonight I am sitting in my home, relaxing on my couch and preparing for a new day. 

Tomorrow is a new day.  I wonder whether I will be here on the couch tomorrow or will I be sitting in a jail cell waiting to go to court to be arraigned before a judge.
 

ABC… abc…angry, black and (out) of control, or ABC…abc…advocacy, balance and calm.

Fear.  Live in fear or live with fear.  A few more days and counting to my 60^th birthday.  Will I be able to stay away from jail…the judge?
 

Tomorrow is another day.  Walk with me Jesus.  Walk with me.  Just for another day.

Until the next crossroads.

The journey continues…