They Spoke and I Listened: Words From the Hearts of 2 Black Women, Compiled and Authored by the Fingers of 1 Woman, Who’s White.

I want to preface you as a reader, on what you are about to read. I want to emphasize that this is not a sugar coated piece, this isn’t an article that will leave you feeling comfortable, it is an article that will leave you grasping for air, it will leave you dumb founded, and uncertain of any certainty you ever had.

The stories from the two woman below, are people that I have been blessed to have in my life. They have taken the time , and put aside the intense and unrelenting pain they are going through, to voice their stories, portraying what they as black woman have dealt with, with brutal honesty, and only the purest intentions.

Their stories are painful, their words disheartening, but what is most concerning is that these are not fictional stories, these are their lives

I called, they talked, and I listened.

This is what I heard.

Paris

I’m trying to think of how to express this to you, when its so normalized for me, its hard for me to take a step out to express to you what I deal with because its so normal. There are certain things you want to just block out of your memory, but I’m trying to think of things that just come to mind.

We can talk about a prior job I had.

When I first moved out here, for my first school psychologist role out of grad school. I would write a simple email, and my director would make comments like “that’s really well written.” In my head I was confused, because it was a basic email, why wouldn’t she expect I would be able to write a well written email? I thought to myself, I have three post graduate degrees. This is what I would define as micro aggression. I always have to prove I’m not the dumb black girl.

In the same sense, I always feel like I have to be on my P’s and Q’s. We can’t have bad days in the work place, I go into meetings with an attitude of being meek, mild and humble. 

An example is when I went into a meeting, with all of my fellow co-workers, everyone was venting. I felt it was a safe space, and like everyone else I voiced my frustrations. After the discussion my director , who was white, asked to meet with me.

She asked if everything was okay, and if I was competent to handle this role. I asked why would you say that? She mentioned she heard me venting and full of frustration. I was baffled, and simply said everybody was venting, but asked if there was there a time when she saw any inconsistency in my work. She admitted their wasn’t.

After that she would contact my contract company for everything, just questioning the basics of things I should know. “Could you go over Paris’s report, so she understands how to do it”. She was very passive aggressive. I was so baffled, I never did not do my work, and was just so confused why she kept picking on me like this.

One evening I spoke with my contractor who placed me in the role, and she acknowledge that this wasn’t an opinion based on my work efficiency, this was discrimination. 

What is even more shocking is that I didn’t even think this. I think I was already conditioned to deal with the bullshit that I’ve dealt with all my life, that I wasn’t even phased. It was a scar that got a callas. I didn’t even feel as effected as I probably should of been, because I was conditioned to it.

What made things worst, is when I went to share my feelings of hurt and confusion about my director to another peer, whom I looked at as a Mother Hen, who was also white, and she looked at me as if I was crazy. She always had excuses for her. 

I remember a time when I lived in New York.

I was trying to just find a job and I applied to be a nanny for this Asian family. I remember on this post, they asked to see a picture. I spoke to the guy and he liked me, I was qualified. After the phone interview he insisted I send a picture, so I did. I never heard back from him again.  

Another incident that I can remember dealt with when I had to go the doctor. I woke up at my cousins house and just threw on a big t-shirt. Immediately I had a feeling of regret, knowing I didn’t look presentable, which made me feel like I was dumb. See, I’m always mindful when I’m out in public, to make sure I present myself in a certain way. I don’t know if white people think that way.

So I get into the doctor’s office, I was seen by a white Jewish female doctor. She didn’t greet me, or ask me my name or any basic questions. She went straight to “ How pregnant are you” I was a sophomore, I didn’t even know what to say, I was weak in the moment. Her demeanor the entire visit did not change, even after my test came back negative, which I knew it would. I remember thinking back, I wonder if anyone else would of gone through something like this.

Another incident I had in the doctors office, was when I was in grad school.The nurse practitioner was a white women. I was fully aware of what my visit was for, and was immediately attacked with aggressive questions, insinuating I didn’t know what I was talking about. Her demeanor, the way she talked to me, was like I was shit.

I immediately questioned why I was being talked to like I was committing a crime, because that’s how it felt. I remember the way she was talking to me was so nasty and overwhelming, that I had to turn the TV off in the room. Before she left the room, I told her that I’ve never been spoken to in the way she spoke to me. I explained I would never of spoken to her in that manner. She said it’s been a long day, and left the room.

When she left I cried, I was so pissed I cried, I was embarrassed, hurt and vulnerable. It was a terrible feeling. just a terrible feeling. I wrote a letter, noting her tone, and that she immediately assumed I had an STD based off of racial profiling. I voiced that there needs to be some type of culture sensitivity and training.  

There are a shit ton of covert things, things just get piled and piled on top of each other and to a non black person it may not seem like a big deal, its almost as if you appreciate the more outward acts of discrimination because at least its crystal clear where those individuals stand on the matter.  

You see people posting, I’m tired. There are probably countless stories, that you just keep pushing, and brush it off. We’re taught to be strong, we’re taught we have to work 10x harder.

Even down to my hair. When applying to be a school psychologist, I put on a wig, to try and conform. We’ve been taught to wear your hair in a bun. Told to wear black and white clothing. To always be professional looking.

Lets talk about how my dad died.

The last time he went into the hospital, he was having seizures. He had stopped drinking, but he started again, and his body went into shock. They were treating him, put him on dialysis, they ended up moving him out of the ICU, but because they needed the bed, they moved him out of the ICU, even though he should of still been in intensive care.

I remember having conversations with them, but again, I was younger, and I didn’t know much to advocate for him. To me it really felt like they were doing the bare minimum. It was clear that they knew I didn’t know any better.

I remember I got into it with one of the nurses, I was driving to the hospital and I was on the phone and we were going back and forth and I get to the hospital and there calling me on the other line to tell me he went into cardiac arrest. When I got there there was this white priest sitting outside of his room. It was like out of a movie, I knew he was dying.

When I got their I saw the priest and asked him to leave, was speaking to the white doctor who was standing in my dad's room. I was asking questions, and his attitude and his tone towards me was insensitive. He acted like he knew more could have been done to help my father, but he was he was to much of a coward to answer my questions.  

He said I cant answer your questions and save your father at the same time.

A lot of times I just don’t look at the videos in the media, my heart cant take it, but I said to myself I need to watch it, I need to be present, I don’t want to avoid the pain, because I feel like its necessary and I watched that video. I then saw a message that the cop’s wife posted, stating “who let these monkeys and N****** out of the cage. We weren’t crazy to think he wasn’t trying to murder him. 
They tried to lie and say that he died at the hospital, but the fact is that the cop and the women had innate hate in them. 

If I wasn't already scared about the men in my family, I am now. 

It’s just this fear I live in. It just seems like there’s this hatred that’s just so innate, and the moment that they’re triggered, that’s when that hate will come out.

No one wants to live in that type of fear. 

Erika

Most of my experiences have been in the work place. My entire career has been having to go in and defend myself from day 1. I have to go in to not only proving myself, but I have to continue to stay overly professional at all times

 Because of my skin complexion, before I even open my mouth, I’m perceived in a particular way. 

There are things that white woman can get away with. They can be angry, they can have an attitude, and they’re perceived as tough. I could never mouth off as a Black woman, and instead hear that white people are intimidated by me. An example is when I’m venting to my teammates, like everyone else is, I’m told to respond calmly and act professional, as if I’m running around the office like a wild beast.

We just can’t do the same things other people do. I have to be concerned with everything from something as simple as the shoes I wear. If I wear a low pump or pointy flat, I’m professional, but the second I put on a 6 inch heel I’m ratchet.

You just cant be off. I am always on, I am always on.

It’s a reason I don’t share my social tags, because I don’t want to be judged in the professional work setting by being connected to my black community. You can relate to me to me in a corporate section, yes, but once you know who I really am, and yes I listen to rap, and yes I take a stand in the black community, I get questioned immediately asking who is this person.  

Even if I go to a happy hour, my white co-workers can get sloshed, and let their guards down, but if I do I’m questioned as to why I would carry myself in that manner. Imagine having to feel that way and also be black. Add the fact that there are very few black employees at a company. So now I’m carrying the entire race on my shoulders.

Its taken me life and professional experience, everything I’m explaining to you is because unfortunately I’ve had repercussions. .

The biggest experience that stands out was with another past employer.

There was a client that did not want to work with them because they noticed the company was not culturally diverse. So, the employer came to me and told me it was a great opportunity to gain client facing experience. They told me I was their saving grace for the client. It wasn’t because I had two degrees or because I have 11 years of business experience, or that I am educated vocally, those skill sets didn’t matter. It was because I was the only black person on the team.

When I mentioned this to one of the other black people in the company, they laughed, and said welcome to the company. It’s great to be the token black girl. It was so bad they were making a joke of it. This was the running culture, the black people who work there already know their lane, and know their ceiling. It was seen as an accomplishment when you get put in front of a client because you’re black. That’s how you know you made it.

We can talk about my experience as being a black parent.

People don’t understand how offensive it is to black people when they say wow your children are so well behaved. I’ve had white woman come up to me and comment on how well behaved my kids are, and how they look so mature as if this was something that was shocking to them. 

A white woman can take her children out without combing their hair, or take them to the store in their pajamas, and the white children are looked as as cute. If I did the same thing, and took my children out like that, they would look at me questioning why my kids look so disheveled.

What I would appreciate from my friends who are not black, is to not try and relate, and don’t try to fit me into a puzzle piece. I ask to not be treated as the token black girl or simply brought around so you can look cool because you have a black friend, or being brought into social circles for pure entertainment, for a pony show, like I’ve had in the past.   

Just love me genuinely because of who I am.

Erika & Paris, I hope I gave your words justice. You are and always will be my sisters.

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Abby C Ashton