COVER -> RECOMMENDED DAILY REQUIREMENT
ISOLATED WHITE FOLKS - I got promoted to being the foreman of my crew at the company I work for in Oaktown, here in Cali. Some of ya'll homies may have heard that Oakland is now a major deep water shipping port. In fact, the Port of Oakland pretty much put the Port of San Francisco out of business years ago when they decided they wanted their harbor to be all chi-chi. We cashed in.
The company I work for is involved in moving large containers. In terms of shipping, you see, containers is what it's all about. You move large quantities of goods that folks need across oceans and countries using these things, you see, by boat and train. That's where Oaktown having a deep water port comes in as important. Anyway, I been doing this stuff for most of my life. It's good work, but it ain't rocket science by any means. I like my job as much as you can like any job, but I never really expected to have other brothers reporting to me, if you know what I mean.
As part of parcel of me moving up the ladder of success, as they say, I got sent to this convention for our industry that took place in Ohio recently. This was the first trip my company ever sent me on and I was pretty excited. I never been to a trade show before, so I didn't know what to expect. The thing I came away with most:
There is still a lot of isolated white folks in this country.More than even I would have believed.
 |
So here's what happened. After we got to look at all the new stuff the company was planning on doing, a couple new plants in different parts of the country and stuff like that, a bunch of us went out to have some Happy Hour drinks. This is what these conventions is all about I guess. Raheem's first experience as a foreman.
So this White girl, from some place up in Idaho, she gets all loose and friendly-like after a couple of daiguiris. She turns to me, kindah bashful like, and says: "Can I ask you a favor?"
I says, "Sure. Why not? As long as you don't ask for my next paycheck."
She giggles, and then says the strangest thing I have ever heard: "Can I touch your hair?"
"Yeah," I said, "it don't bite." But I was thinkin' to myself, This woman never seen a Black person face-to-face before!
"It's so soft!" she says, soundin' surprised.
I'm thinkin': What? Where you come from they told you our hair be like barbed-wire?
A lot of the folks at the table, most of them White, laughs kindah nervously when she says that. Like maybe they're thinking I might take it the wrong way and go off or somethin'. I just smiled.
"Yeah," I said to her so's they all could hear me. "My girl, Tanya, she likes running her fingers through my hair. My whole family have good hair. We often wonder to ourselves how ya'll can put up with havin' that horse hair."
Only a couple people laughed this time. Still nervous, of course. The girl, she just blushed. Her face went beet-red, in fact.
The other thang that happened was equally a Twilight Zone kind of deal. I had been asked by my supervisor to take a look at some new equipment made by this company out of Nebraska. My boss gave me some of their brochures to check out the specs of what they said their machines could do, 'cause if it checked out it would be right up our alley. We had a little extra scratch to invest in new equipment, I was made to understand, and Lord knows we could use it. So I checked out my handouts to see where I could find this particular company's booth at the trade show.
When I get to the booth, I run up on this big Hermann Goerring-looking dude. He's in a bright red shirt, besides, and his running his mouth a mile a minute to anybody who will listen about the wonders of his new machines. I stand in the thicket of folks around him until he finishes his spiel.
He starts asking folks if they want to give him their little plastic ID cards to swipe into his machine so his company can send them more junk mail about they "revolutionary" products. I'd been there a couple of days, so I was used to this kindah bull.
I waited it out, 'cause I was there to talk about buying.
The crowd thinned out as folks moved on and I tried going up to the guy and getting his attention.
When he saw me, he gave me the cool once-over. I had my own little ID turned 'round, not feelin' like lettin' strangers know my name. In his case, this was probably a mistake, 'cause he couldn't see my company name, either.
"I wannah ask you some questions, mister," I said to him when it was clear he wasn't gonnah say nothing.
"Well, that's why I'm here," he says, "though I'd think you'd be more interested in the light equipment area."
I felt my back gettin' up, but I took a deep breath. "Why would you think that?" I heard myself sayin'.
"[His company name] deals with advanced technology for the container and shipping industries," he instructs me. "Our customers move tonnage across all fifty states."
"Gosh!" I exclaims. "That sounds real Big Time, Boss!"
"Is there anything I can help you with?" he asks me coolly.
Okay, I know this was childish, but I turned my ID around then and let him see my company name. "I don't know," I says. "I was reading over your brochure in my hotel room last night and had some questions about your specs. I'm not sure they all add up. So I came down to ask you about them before I looked at [His company's competitor's name]'s equipment. Meeting you now, though, I'm not sure if you can help me or not."
Old Hermann had a look on his face like he might wet his pants.
Me, I just grinned up at him, making sure he could appreciate the pearly whiteness of my big teeth.
I think ya'll see what I'm tryna say here, Homeboys and -girls. Living in Oakland, I don't run into this kindah stuff as much anymore. I had forgotten how White folks take on airs with us out in the wider country. I had no idea how isolated some of these folks is from a real world in which there is Black and Brown and Yellow people who just might have a little buyin' power.
I found it kindah scarey and it gave me hella things to think about, as we say in our West Coast slang. I mean, that fool thought I didn't know a forklift from a crane and sure as hell didn't think I might be able to impact a million dollar buying decision!
QUESTIONS? COMMENTS? Go ahead and email Raheem.
This week's Poll: Is your Work a definition of You?
WEB SITE PICK OF THE DAY: G21 Alumnus RON MORGAN is on the Executive Board of Bastard Nation, an organization committed to the rights of adoptees. They are featured in this month's Rolling Stone magazine in the first of a most excellent two-part series. You can check it out on the Web here. Worth your time!
