'Hey iPod!'
An inebriated smoker held the door for my roommate and I as we left a party Friday. I smiled, showing my gratitude and appreciation at the fact that he recognized my costume, but I didn't really want to hold a conversation. But because drunken people can read your mind and do exactly the opposite of what you want, he threw his arm around my shoulder and stopped us.
'I love iPods,' he slurred. 'Are you a Jamaican iPod'?
I was taken aback. You may be wondering if I was cloaked in Jamaican stereotypes underneath my iPod costume. I wasn't in a bobsled outfit, I didn't have Rastafarian colors on and I wasn't playing a steel drum. Had I been doing any of those things on Halloween, I would have let it go. Instead, I was in jeans, a cable knit sweater and sneakers. I wasn't exactly an ambassador from Negril.
'No,' I said. I tried to think of a comeback. I wanted this guy to learn that just because I was black and had braids did not mean I was Jamaican. There isn't anything wrong with being Jamaican, but hairstyles shouldn't dictate your culture. If every person with a shaved head were a neo-Nazi, swimming would be barred from schools nationwide.
I scrambled and decided that leaving would be the best alternative.
'I'm not Jamaican,' I told him, pulling away. I thought I was free, my roommate was already two steps ahead, and I just needed to follow her lead.
'Oh, I'm sorry, African then. Where are you from? Do you speak Swahili'? He wouldn't let me go. It was awkward, it was embarrassing and all I could think about was getting away from him and going home. I finally broke free by dropping my shoulder a bit to release his hand from my arm.
I walked home, trying to shrug it off. He could have called me much worse things than 'Jamaican iPod.' I knew he was drunk, but that's not really an excuse for things. Being drunk doesn't change your opinions; it just reveals them to people. Saying something and then apologizing because you're drunk is apologizing for your subconscious coming to the foreground.
The situation was a pushpin on my timeline of awkward incidents involving race. They are minor things that are usually said out of ignorance rather than malice. Regardless of their intentions, they make me uncomfortable.
I have become a teacher, discussing everything from how long it takes to get my hair braided to who Stokely Carmichael was. I want to end the ignorance by educating, but some nights I just want to watch 'I'm Gonna Git You Sucka' without explaining why all of the jokes are funny.
How does it change though? When the teachers are tired of teaching, inherently more students need help. Something is working well because I attend this school without armed protection and eggs being thrown at my head.
But how can I'or we if you are feeling inspired'get people to see that these incidents aren't isolated, and we are doing ourselves a disservice by going through college and coming out educated, but still ignorant. It cheapens the value of our degree, and we work too hard for it.
Until a clear answer is devised, let's make a conscious effort to really learn while we're here. To read, to see speakers, to have dialogues, to step outside of ourselves. And to the drunk guy, who assumed I was Jamaican; that's 'columnist iPod' to you.
