Jun
24
Big mouth rides again!
June 24, 2008 | |
Some people never learn. It’s an unfortunately fact of life. And while life can be difficult enough when you’re the one making the same mistake over and over again, it’s a little bit different when the culprit is a colleague. Their actions might affect you, but you’ve got no control over them. And if you are not particularly close to the colleague, you might also have little or no influence on them, either.
Such is my situation with Mr. Worst-Case-Scenario. Some of you may remember that he and his wife were trying to adopt a child, but had run into some difficulties. When it looked as if the child they’d thought they were adopting wasn’t going to become their little darling after all, Mr. W-C-S mentioned to another of our colleagues that there was a possibility — worst case scenario — of him and his wife adopting a Black child.
Though he looked chagrined when he noticed that he and his companion had infiltrated my snug (it was winter and we were outside) and that I’d probably heard the comment, I was pissed as hell for a long time after. He, however, has been extra-friendly to in the two and half years since the incident.
Funny that today was the first time he offended me anew in that time.
Today, from across the newsroom, I heard him bellow, "Well, look at the Aborigines! There’s a reason they’re dark!" He was speaking with a reported here, who is an avid surfer. They could have been talking about anything from Australia in general, to sun protection specifics.
Coming from nearly anyone else, this exclamation would have been curious, but not necessarily potentially derogatory. I probably would assumed he was talking about sun and skin cancer, and then not have thought about it anymore.
But because it was his voice, my hackles rose and I listened as he went further into the conversation.
I don’t remember much of what he said because inside my head, I was chanting, "Suntans! Sunscreen! Zinc oxide! Come on, say something to explain yourself so I don’t start hating you all over again."
Finally, I noticed that he seemed to have veered off topic, he was talking about a National Geographic spread featuring Tour Du France cyclists.
"I mean, the rest of them were like me — pale white [Note-from-Tara: This man is rather swarthy, actually.], but their legs were pitch-black. I mean PITCH black with their feet and thighs white."
Finally, I thought to myself, suntans.
But some niggling inner-voice still wanted to kick him in the shins: We Black folk come in all shades of dark, but even the darkest of us can’t be compared to pitch. And, it crossed my mind to wonder, would I have found his words more tolerable if he’d compared his and the cyclists’ skin to bird shit, or if someone else altogether had told the story?
Why couldn’t this colleague have just kept his mouth shut? I was beginning to see him as a probably a nice, if ignorant and nearly oblivious, guy.
Coming, as it did, the day after Don Imus stuck his foot in his mouth again, I couldn’t help but wonder at his timing.
Comments
You must be logged in to post a comment.
