SEPARATION ANXIETY: Running the human race

The Vision Staff Writer I had no problem telling white students where I was from, and they had no problem with my response. But as I let the word "Boston" creep cautiously off my lips in response to black students' inquiries, I became painfully aware of the dark legacy that my hometown bears. In the opinion of most black Americans today, Boston, Massachusetts does not have the greatest reputation for race relations. Many blacks refer to Boston as, "up South," equating its poor racial reputation with the South's infamous racial reputation. In the 60s, 70s, and even 90s, racial riots have occurred in Boston due to school desegregation and court ordered bussing. But that's just the beginning of the chaos that has served to racially stratify Boston. Just a few years ago, a white man named Charles Stewart murdered his wife and unborn child in a predominantly black and Latino area of Boston. He then convinced the police and media for weeks that the crime had been committed by a black man. Understanding the racial biases that pervade the city, Stewart felt that the alibi was perfect. It was almost perfect until it was later discovered that Stewart himself had committed the murders for insurance money, and he ultimately killed himself. Boston's bad reputation has even spread to its professional sports teams which many blacks have traditionally condemned as racist and discriminatory. Needless to say, most black people do not view Boston as a "City of Brotherly Love." My experience at Penn here in the "real" City of Brotherly Love has been very much influenced by my birthplace. Being from Boston has endowed me with an acute awareness of racial tension, while at the same time, I have almost been desensitized toward racist attacks. By being surrounded with the type of racial adversity that my city is famous for, I have never been allowed for a day to forget how much my blackness effects the course of my life. But the more aware I have become of that adversity, the less the impact it has maintained over me. I got used to it. And on campus, I am still used to it. The other day I walked into Gimbel Gym. As I stood in line, I watched the attendant take the I.D.'s of the white students in front of me, quickly slice them through the card reader without looking at their pictures, and smile. Not only did the attendant's smile melt slowly from her face when I handed her my card, but her behavior changed as well. She began to study my card, looking up at me and back at the card several times in stern suspicion, before letting me pass. But she was just doing her job, right? I also remember standing in the Bookstore the other day trying to find something that cost $2.98 so that I would have a large enough purchase to charge it on my Penn card. I'm not quite sure why, but people kept asking me questions like, "Where's the toilet paper", as if I worked there. I just told them where it was and went about my business. I guess I just looked knowledgeable, right? Well, regardless of why events such as these happen on a daily basis to me, the bottom line is that there are a hundred more events like these and worse that I have either decided to forget, or never felt worthy of remembering. I just got used to them. I am used to people looking at me funny, I am used to people being afraid of me, and I am used to not being respected. It may sound like a trail of tears, and you may not believe it. But regardless of whether you want to believe it or not, it's still true. I don't really have the time, nor the energy to be preoccupied with what other people think of me. I have a job, I have papers to write, and I do have a life to live. But sometimes my daily experience leaves me no choice but to be concerned. When what people think of me based on the color of my skin begins to affect everything I do, and everything I am able to do, I honestly do tend to get a little angry. Being black in America, and being black at Penn, can do that to a person. Whether I am forced to justify where I was born to my friends, or I have to deal with campus police following me around like a criminal rather than a tuition paying student, it isn't easy being a black Bostonian at Penn. Boston and Penn clearly have some serious racial problems. But I am not going to allow that awareness to cripple my feelings of self worth, or destroy my concept of home. I dislike the racial tension that exists at Penn and at home with a passion. But for the next two and a half years, Penn is my school, and Boston will always be my home, whether I live there or not. I don't know if it's good for me to be used to racism or not. But the fact that I, and many other African-Americans like myself, are used to it speaks volumes about our times. Wherever we as a race – a human race – go from here, we've all got to make it there together. But,we need to keep in mind that everyone knows a different route, and not everyone is going to choose the same path. And the trifling ones who refuse to come along? I guess they'll just have to be dragged along for the trip. Chris Lake is a sophomore from Boston, Massachusetts. He is a staff writer for The Vision.

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