Letters from a Young Radical

Ok. I probably shouldn't even be upset about this because what it really comes down to is an altercation with two complete strangers who were acting damn weird, and were obviously either trying to mess with me, or drunk or on drugs or just... weird.

Still. I think this is the first time I've ever been accused of being a racist and I find it damn ironic that it happened on the way to my car after our weekly socialist discussion. This week's topic was oppression, including sexism, homophobia, ageism, religious intolerance and RACISM. We spent two hours talking about how horrible these ideologies are and how we can overcome them through cooperative struggle.

On the way to my car, two slightly older black guys ask me if I know where the Wild Rose is. I said sorry, I don't live in Capital Hill. And they said you don't understand, YOU are the wild rose! We've been looking for you, now come play pool with us. And I'm smiling and I stop to talk to them, which is more than most people would do, and more than any woman concerned for her safety SHOULD do, but this is a habit I've made: to try to connect with people on the street, even if they're hitting on me, or if they're asking me for money. So I tried. He's going on about the Wild Rose, and I say, "well my name is Iris, so that's pretty funny right?" hoping I can shake hands and be on my way. And one of the guys starts talking about how "they" zapped it into his brain and to look for the girl with the beads (as he's touching my necklaces) and he says come on lets go and takes my arm, and I'm like I'm sorry guys, I'm on my way home to my boyfriend. And the other guy says, "you're a racist". And I'm totally taken aback, and I say "what?! come on...", and he holds his friend in front of me for a good look and says, "seriously, who's more attractive, your boyfriend or this guy?".

Ok. First of all, talk about setting me up. He wasn't attractive, but here I am trying to be nice and just not get into a fight so I'm like "well they're both ok..." and immediately he starts in with a slew of all kinds of words "you are a fucking stupid punk nigga ass (etc) racist BITCH" and I just turn into this child. I've got both hands up to my necklaces and I'm looking down and I'm just going "nooo, nooo, nooo" like a little kid. I felt like all I was trying to do is be nice, I've offered more of myself than anyone else would and I get beat down for it. And so they get sick of this game, and laugh and walk away. And all I want to do is cry.

Again, I know this was just a stupid runin with some assholes. It had nothing to do with race. But I couldn't help think - even if these were weird dudes, they must harbor feelings like that, which is important.

And as a white female, I start down the sticky race road. I'm asking myself what I did wrong. And then I say to myself, "hey wait a minute - doesn't that make THEM racist if they're just assuming that because I'm white and I don't want to go play pool with them that I'M a racist?", which only supports my secret fear that black folk I meet will think I'm a racist, which in itself might be kind of racist. And in the end I'm just confused.

I guess the truth is that I did what I could in the situation and these were just some jerks. It wasn't a serious discussion about race. I wasn't uncomfortable around them because they're black, I was uncomfortable because there were two of them, they're men, they're bigger and older than me, and they confronted me (and then got mad at me - yikes).

I always wish I'd said something else, but I guess it wouldn't have mattered this time.