Inconspicuously Reach Over and Lock the Door

As I pulled to a stop at the signal light, a middle aged black man was starting to cross the street in front of me. He had a dirty, grungy, not-quite-homeless look to him. He wasn't quite dressed in rags, but he was clearly lower-income. He didn't look thuggish or gangsta, but he did have a certain ‘ghetto’ quality to his appearance. I inconspicuously reached over and locked the door. I did it casually and non-chalet, after all, I didn't want him to notice my racism. And yes, I fully admit that this was a racist act. As I was locking the door that thought never cross my mind, rather my thinking was more along the lines of precautionary self preservation. But it was certainly racist.

There was a piece of PVC pipe laying in the intersection. About 3" in diameter and approximately two feet long, it lay directly in front of my truck. I could narrowly dodge the pipe if I hugged the curb as I pulled into the intersection, so I wasn't overly concerned with it. As the frightening black man crossed the street in front of me, he noticed the pipe. He looked down and the pipe and then up at me. He held his index finger up, indicating that I should wait a moment. He then readjusted his backpack and lean down to pick up the pipe. Pipe in hand, he continued on his path across the street. My first thought was he was homeless/poor and this piece of discarded pipe must have some value or purpose for him. But as he reached the sidewalk on the other side he tossed the pipe in the grass.

The, slightly-less-scary, black man was simply moving the pipe out of the road. He had no interest in the pipe, other than it lay in my way, nor did he have any interest in robbing me at gun point. In fact, the whole idea that I needed to lock the door for security from the man on foot is ludicrous. The truth of the matter is, I’m an asshole and got called on it. Rabbi Steven Leder once said, “If we look deep inside ourselves, way down deep, each of us will find a person who has, just a little bit of racism. But the thing is, if we look even deeper, while find a person who know it’s wrong. And therein, lays hope for change.” This was a perfect example of that small amount of racism that I have deep inside myself. It’s not like I would eve shout a racial slur, nor would I consciously treat him different based on ethnicity, but it is clear now, that I am not as completely non-discriminatory as I thought.

As the, not-so-scary-after-all, black man continued on his route down the sidewalk, we made eye contact. I waved and mouthed the word, “Thanks.” But I felt like I should have been mouthing an apology. However, as I look back on that now, “Thanks” was exactly the right response. Not only should I thank him for moving the pipe, but I should be thanking him for pointing out a flaw a desperately needed to see.