1/
I remember saying in a talk once:

“Bad intentions aren’t a prerequisite for something to be considered a #microaggression.”

Funny how our own words and lessons can come back to tap us on the shoulder.

Let me explain.
2/
All of our luggage was clustered near the front porch. It was about five minutes to the hour that we had to be fully vacated from the house that we’d rented for spring break.

Everyone was scrambling about and making sure we had everything after a lazy week of relaxing.

Yup.
3/
The hatch was up on the back of my car and my teen son was loading in bags with me.

That’s when I noticed a gentleman walking toward me from what appeared to be a truck filled with cleaning items. I could see that he was accompanied by some others gathering what they’d need.
4/
Him: “Hello there!”

He surveyed where we were in our checkout process. Then he gestured toward the door to see if it was okay for them to get started on cleaning the property.

I vigorously nodded.

Me: “Hola! Esta bien!” *I waved my hand* “Nos vamos!”

He nodded.
5/
I returned to packing the car when I noticed my son glaring at me.

Me: “What?”
Son: *shaking his head*
Me: *furrowing my brow* “What?”

He raised his eyebrows, sighed, and returned to lifting bags.

Me: “I know. My Spanish is bad.”

He stopped again.
6/
Son: “Mom? He greeted you in English.”
Me: “Wait. What?”
Son: “Mom, you just—“

He stopped talking when the cleaning team came closer to us. They had assembled everything they needed and seemed to have a well-organized system.

Son: “Sir, are we in your way?”
7/
Him: “Nope, you’re fine. We’re a little early so just wanted to make sure it was okay on your end.”

I felt my face burning.

He stepped aside to let the other members of his team come in. All of whom greeted us with polite nods as they got down to business.

Yup.
8/
From the corner of my eye, I saw that the truck had a familiar emblem painted on the side. I realize that all week I’d seen them working all around the very property we were on.

From the open door, I could hear them speaking to one another in Spanish.

I looked at my son.
10/
Son: “And I’m calling you out on it because this is what you always say people need to do. Call—”
Me: “Call bullshit.”

*laughter*

Son: “You said it, not me.”
Me: *thinking* “Son? What do you think my #singlestory was?”

He snorted. Then he looked around the porch again.
11/
Son: “Here’s the deal, Mom. When we got here y’all sat us all down and gave us #TheTalk for the millionth time. And it’s to protect us from what can happen to us as Black men, right?”
Me: *listening*
Son: “You want us safe from the #singlestory people have when they see us.”
12/
Son: “But you low key sized dude up when you saw him. I mean, you jumped to assuming he didn’t speak English. And like, even if you meant well, it still was kind of a . . .what’s that thing you always talk about?”
Me: “Microaggression.”

He closed the hatch and pointed at me.
13/
Son: “Plus your Spanish is super suspect and cringy, Mom.”

*laughter*

And with that, my almost 16 year old son reached for his cell phone and commenced to ignoring me again.

And the cleaning team manager commenced to ignoring me, too.
14/
Though he did direct a couple of small questions to my son. Not me.

Yup.

It’s funny. I was equal parts mortified and proud of that exchange with my son.

Wait. I take that back.

Mostly, I was proud. Proud that my son was an upstander. But also for a chance to do better.
15/
I’ll also add that it was pretty cool to know that our kids are actually paying attention to us.

Well. Mostly cool.

Ha.

My intention was, I thought, to make that man feel seen. But my son was right. I allowed my #bias to create a #singlestory narrative.

It’s true.
16/
“Bad intentions aren’t a prerequisite for something to be considered a microaggression.”

Ain’t that the truth.

Never think the *air quotes* experts have this all mastered.

They don’t.

In fact, beware of those who suggest that they do.

Mmm hmmm.
17/
And before someone says: “Maybe he was Spanish-speaking only” — the issue is. . . maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he spoke English, too.

And French.
And Portuguese.
And Mandarin.

Right?
18/

Just like maybe my Black sons and their friends with their knotty afros and easy African-American vernacular aren’t suspects.

But instead scholars.
And leaders.
And musicians.

And. . . .

Yup.

#bias #singlestory #dothework
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