Hubris

I Am Not Crazy—Just Black

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“Everywhere I go and every day of my life, I am reminded that I am Black—the you-don’t-belong stares; the being stalked while shopping; the getting pulled over, for no apparent reason; the expectation that I speak for all Black people. And the worst and most heart-wrenching reminders are the senseless and violent losses of so many precious Black lives that rip at my core. I feel the new loss of each precious Black life like it’s someone I know and love. It’s like empathy on fire. I find it near impossible to watch the footage. Hearing or reading about it breaks me down. It drains me. It angers me. It drowns me in its senselessness. I am left raw, with another gaping wound that will never heal.”—F. Theresa Gillard

Status Quo Minus Amplified

By F. Theresa Gillard

Serena Williams, right, with referee Brian Earley. (AP Photo/Adam Hunger.)

“I appeal to all of you to get into this great revolution that is sweeping this nation. Get in and stay in the streets of every city, every village and hamlet of this nation until true freedom comes, until the revolution of 1776 is complete.”―Congressman John Lewis

Off the Rails (OTR)

BOSTON Massachusetts—(Weekly Hubris)—1 August 2020—I am not crazy—just Black. Now, if that feels or sounds familiar, you are either some-sort-of-Black or all-sorts-of-Black or you have thought this. Listen, there is so much more that defines me as a person than being a Black person. However, I am constantly redirected by how I am perceived, rather than how I present. So, fine. Go right ahead.  I mean, you’ll do it anyway, regardless of what I say, do or think. And, because you either consciously do this or unconsciously do it, you miss who I truly am. That really sucks. Just plain sucks. 

That “I am not crazy–just Black” thought came to me as I was wondering why the attorney that I am paying to represent me in the refinancing of my property came at me inappropriately. 

Listen, like really listen. If you come at me a certain way that triggers my Black-defense, I suggest you buckle up or run. I have no preference here: you choose.

And why can’t I just have a normal experience? You know, something simple. Let’s say you’re my attorney. The lender has contacted you, but you’ve never spoken to me. Wouldn’t you, as my attorney, reach out to me and introduce yourself; explain the services to be provided and the cost? Right? Simple.

But, guess what? I am Black and that’s where everything generally (really always) goes off the rails (OTR). 

Here are some of my OTR’s:    

I show up. You’ve talked to me, but we’ve never met and, even though it shouldn’t matter one bit, you are totally shocked (and your face shows it) to see that I am Black. There goes the baby right out of the window. 

Seeing as I am only the person of color in every meeting, you think that you will try to make me feel like I belong—more comfortable. You figure speaking “my language” is a good place to start. You say, “What’s up, Sistah?” 

For real?

Just stop, because my reaction will definitely fall into your category of “she’s acting Black.”  And, so, what if I am? I mean, that makes sense, right? I am Black.

You think I speak for the entire Black race. You respond by saying, “That’s what you all think?” I literally look around me, because there’s just two of us. 

I am shopping and, apparently, everywhere I shop, I have an assigned “personal shopping assistant” who makes sure I don’t forget to pay for my selections. There are so many OTR shopping events that I’ve experienced (along with my family and friends). Here’s one of the crazier ones.

My sister and I are shopping at North Shore Mall in Peabody, Massachusetts. We leave and drive across the parking lot to the grocery store. Next thing we know, a car whips in behind us and blocks us in the parking space. We are gruffly questioned, because we “fit the description” of shoplifters.  They are “pretty sure” it was us and they are talking about detaining us. We are frightened and incredulous. We are left bewildered, angry, and wondering WTH just happened.   

OK, someone stole something, but is it so serious that it merits this more-like-a-SWAT response?  Once again, a simple errand becomes an almost-arrest. It was scary

Black-whilst-Working[https://www.forbes.com/sites/janicegassam/2020/01/08/stop-asking-black-people-if-you-can-touch-their-hair/#5ed0549b50a7]. (Image: Getty.)
Black-whilst-Working. (Image: Getty.)

Black Whilst Working (BWW)

Let’s switch gears and turn our focus to one of my Black-whilst-Working (BWW) moments.

I hire a person sight unseen because I had a death in my family. All of the people that she interviews with are not of color. So, when I get back to work, a colleague escorts her to my office to meet me.  My colleague is standing there, making the introductions, but the new staff member does not cross my office threshold. I can see her, though. So, I introduce myself again and welcome her to my team.  She just stands there staring at me. And I know the look. 

It is so awkward for my colleague. I, on the other hand, know this is just another BWW moment. My colleague can’t understand what is happening and keeps saying, “Hey, come on in. This is Theresa.  She’s your director that I was telling you about.” The new hire refuses to shake my hand and seems terrified. 

This new employee went on to resign, but not before officially reporting me to HR and accusing me of discrimination. She also muddied the waters with faculty members, telling them that I discriminated against her and that I was not supportive.

You know, it is really easy to predict what crazy liars will do. They always flip it and say that you’re doing to them what they are actually doing to you. I mean, it happens every time. 

Even though I promptly reported her initial reaction to meeting me and her ongoing performance issues, I had to defend myself, once again. Did HR or the faculty members believe me, though? Come on. You see how this is going. You know the answer.

Instead of believing me, a dedicated, ten-year employee, HR believed her and I found myself sitting across from two faculty members blaming me for her departure. Of course, I explained why her departure should be welcomed; shared details regarding her performance issues and how she reacted to meeting me for the first time.

Hold on to something. Here’s what one them said: “You know Theresa, we are brown-skinned, too. I lived in North Carolina. So, I know what you’re talking about. But she was never like that with us.” 

Well, first off, you’re not Black, and you certainly don’t know what I am talking about. And that’s like using your one Black friend to prove you’re not a racist. You prove you’re not a racist by being there for me, as I am for you. By listening to me, without trying to rationalize away why that incident I shared with you that is obviously blatant racism is just a misunderstanding and you really don’t think they meant it that way.

Ice Cube, left, and Charlie Day in a scene from “Fist Fight.” (Bob Mahoney/Warner Bros. Pictures via AP.)
Ice Cube: You need to check yourself . . . .

Black, Not Crazy

Everywhere I go and every day of my life, I am reminded that I am Black—the you-don’t-belong stares; the being stalked while shopping; the getting pulled over, for no apparent reason; the expectation that I speak for all Black people.

And the worst and most heart-wrenching reminders are the senseless and violent losses of so many precious Black lives that rip at my core.

I feel the new loss of each precious Black life like it’s someone I know and love. It’s like empathy on fire. I find it near impossible to watch the footage. Hearing or reading about it breaks me down. It drains me. It angers me. It drowns me in its senselessness. I am left raw, with another gaping wound that will never heal. 

Now that you seem to hear our Black cries and our Black voices, feel our Black pain and our Black despair. See our innocent Black lives lost. Listen, learn, and help others to do the same. We have been drowning in our own tears for generations. 

I cannot understand or grasp the amount of hate and ignorance it takes to carry out or support the abhorrent acts of idiocy we see daily in our streets. 

I do understand that silence is deadly. I applaud the peaceful protesters and pray for lasting change.  In 1963, John Lewis, at age 23, protested and spoke out against issues that still haunt and hound us today. We recently lost John Lewis at the age of 80, but our nation is still riddled with the same racist policies he stood up against in his 20’s.   

And, before you say that you’re not a racist, consider the advice of Ice Cube: “You need to check yourself, before you wreck yourself.”

F. Theresa Gillard characterizes herself as a Black—not an African American; born/raised in South Carolina; currently residing in New England; never married; no children. Her day benefits-gets-her-bills-paid-job: a Director at a university in Boston. She proclaims herself to be a passionate never-gets-around-to-it writer who is a Rap-House Music/Cheeze-It junkie. What she writes is who she is—meaning she is a take-it-or-leave-it, yes-or-no, with-no-maybe-or-possibly person: basically, she feels it all comes down to that initial “F.” Email Theresa: StatusQuoMinus@WeeklyHubris.com (Author Head Shot Augment: René Laanen.)

19 Comments

  • Will

    Awesome, challenging contribution, F! And even more awesome – super-edited, exciting issue! Thank you!

  • FTheresa Gillard

    Will – Thank you! And, I really appreciate your support and commenting on all WH Black Voices contributors. Many thanks!
    FTG

  • Matthew Murphy

    Sometimes a read is both beautiful and hard. I love this essay; it both pains me and inspires me to do more in support of Black people, the ones I know and the ones I don’t. This is A-plus truth-telling, and I thank you for the powerful message. Thank you so much, FTG!

  • Becky McDonald

    Dang, I have missed you so.
    2 phones ago I lost your contact information. Some of my best laughs ever were with you. Love your writing as always and I ache for your struggles. Be safe.

  • FTheresa Gillard

    * Anita Purdy – Hey Anita! Thanks for stopping by. I am doing quite well and hope you, your young ladies, your husband, the pups and Nimbus are all doing well.
    * Angela L Williams – Angela, by all means share it far and wide! Thank you!
    * Sokha – I actually chose one of the not-so-shocking BWW moments.
    * Matthew Murphy – You’re welcome Matthew. I appreciate your efforts and your conscientious journey to Black awareness.
    FTG

  • FTheresa Gillard

    * Jodi Byrne – Your support is unmatched. As we say in the South, I appreciate you.
    * Becky McDonald – I miss you more. I mean it would help if we could be on the same coast. Well, at least you’re not in Alaska anymore. Are you? Funny thing though. All you had to do was ask your son, Greg! He keeps in touch.
    FTG

  • Laura Karabello

    Theresa-extremely powerful and well written! We can only pray that people will take this important message to heart!

  • CGR

    Well done niece, you have given readers a little taste of your talented writing. You have so much more to be shared. Please take the time to write more, so we all can partake.

  • FTheresa Gillard

    * Laura – Hello there. Yes, let’s keep those prayers coming; add in a bit of hope, faith and top it off with some good old fashioned action.
    * CGR – Hey Aunt Reen, It’s gonna take a little more than time. We’ll see how it goes.
    FTG

  • Jeff

    Great piece – and the real-life examples are shocking to me, a 64-year-old white male Christian who thinks he is not a racist. I like the advice and will take it: “Check yourself…”!

  • F Theresa Gillard

    Jeff – I applaud your commitment to your ‘check yourself’ journey! Thank you for stopping by and sitting for a spell.
    FTG

  • Cortney Ellis

    Welcome back!! We have missed you. First let me start by saying thank you. Thank you for addressing the elephant in the room and having a dialouge that no one ever wants to have! Apart from being AA, it’s even more diffcult being a AA female in a professional work environment. It is so taxing and so draining, but no one seems to understand that. We work harder and do more work than anyone, yet we are so undervalued, underappreciated, and underpaid. I also find that I am always in a position of definding myself or having to justify what I did or what I said, when my equals are never questioned. Anyway, I digress. Keep fighting the good fight. This piece is exquisite! Write more, we’ll be waiting.

  • Anita Sullivan

    Thanks, Theresa, this is so well presented I was on the edge of my seat with suspense, hoping it would be different this time, but damn it, not yet.

  • F Theresa Gillard

    * Cortney Ellis – You’re welcome. Missed you more. You know how we roll. Fighting the good fight is a given and it shall continue.
    * Anita Sullivan – Hi Anita. Yes, me too. I always expect a different outcome. I have to or my life would be so grim. Thank you for stopping by.
    FTG

  • Colleen Coenen

    I had read your blog silently for a while when you mentioned it in one of our meetings. (I love to write, too!) I have to say, you are an incredibly talented writer…it is always refreshing to see the honesty and actually be able feel what you’re describing.
    Unbeknownst to most at work, (I purposely kept my life private there but I suppose it doesn’t matter now)my oldest daughter is half black. I have witnessed every single thing you have said…and it pains me every single time. From being followed in stores when she wasn’t right beside me, to the looks, to people not wanting to be “too close”…or seeing their demeanor change from my all-white children to my half white-half black child.
    She struggled her way up to actually get into school where we work, and was finally going to benefit. To her, it feels personal that due to the layoffs, she now doesn’t qualify for tuition remission. It’s understandable that after being pushed to the side so many times, that motivation is lost. What’s worse is that she expected it…something this good was too good to be true for a little, black girl. And she was right; it was, even though it wasn’t personal.
    Until you see it first hand and actually experience it, you don’t understand that you are going to question every single obstacle put in front of you.
    I truly wish you all the best, and hope that someday…in this lifetime, things will truly change for the better.