Man with a Guitar on the Train

"It's taken me 11 years to figure out how to play this thing and avoid the police."

"I love all the people--the Puerto Rican people, the White people, the Mexican people, the crackheads."


The middle-aged, black man sitting across from me with the Nike fitted and blue hoody jacket is laughing his ass off. I am, too.

"Who can guess who sang this song?" Then he starts strumming that old Latino favorite and belting out, "Poh-lice Navidad, Poh-lice Navidad. . ."

I wanted to say, "Richie Valens." But I was almost positive that was wrong. And then it would come off as racist or something because that's the only old, famous Hispanic singer a white girl would know. And then I would be drawing attention to myself. . .

So this other guy shouts out, "Jose Feliciano" Was that a mistake or what? Especially since he said it in a serious sort of way. Most people know better than to play into these people's games. The rest of us watched on, always interested to see what'll happen.

But the man with the guitar responded, "You didn't hear what I said? Police Navidad."

A man gives him some change. "You got the idea, man."

Then he starts walking up and down the aisle with his bag open. "I take Mexican, African, food stamps, turkey leftovers, weed (if you have it), college credits, school lunches."

He sits back down at the other end of the train from me. "This is for the white lady with the brown coat on," as he looked at me. (There was only one other white lady on the train.)

"I've got Sunshine
on the #2 Train.
I guess you say,
you must also do cocaine.
My girl, my girl
Talking about that white lady, my girl."

"I love all the people. This is for the Chinese lady standing in the middle of the train. I learned Chinese songs. I checked out 2 books from the library. This is what they taught me."

"And they were Kung-Fu fighting. Dahnnanana, Dahnanana"

New York City irony

The organizer of the African American Day Parade in Harlem (The Largest Black Parade is America) is Abe Snyder.

When they mentioned it at the community meeting (where I was the only white person out of a group of eight black people), I was the only one to display shock and dismay. They told me, "You must be new to the neighborhood."

Chinese School vs. Black School vs. White School

African-American father to five-year-old daughter: You see? That's why I send you to a Chinese school. Because those Chinese kids know how to do math. You gotta know how to do math if you want to make something of yourself. If I sent you to a black school, you'd just turn into a crackhead. If I sent you to a white school, you'd turn into an asshole. But those Chinese kids, man, they know how to do shit.

--4 Train

From the blog Overheard in New York

A Sin And A Shame: Soul Voyeurism* And Harlem “Gospel Tours” [Racialigious]

Some quotes from a great article by Fiqah, originally published at Possum Stew
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
. . .when the tourists watched the choir and the other attendees with that peculiar mixture of fascination, fear and envy that White people in spaces of color often seem to have.
 . . .

Here, an excerpt from an account by a  White tourist from London**  who went to a Harlem church specifically for the music:

I meet Tim Rawlins at the Memorial Baptist church choir practise. He’s rare proof of the fact that white men can sing gospel. He says I’ve got to surrender to the music – feel it – and forget I’m English.

That statement, which positively reeks of cultural fetishizing, gave me a headache. Forget you’re “English” (read: White and proper) and “surrender” (is it attacking you?) to the wild, untamed Black Black Blackity Blackness of the music. Hallelujah, let the Othering begin.

. . .
The unexamined sense of entitlement that accompanies the idea of White people being welcome in any space is the factor that makes these tours possible. (I’m fully convinced that if 100 casually-dressed and snap-happy Black Americans rolled up into a Lutheran church on a Sunday in Haarlem,  the ensuing outrage at their gall would cause an international incident…but I digress.)

Sign in Harlem

Man About to Jump From Tall Building

October 14, 2009

A small success

When I first started teaching, my former AP US History teacher told me to always remember the small successes.

With all the crap and foolishness that is my classroom, on Friday we had a moment. A student threw his trash to the basket and missed.
Of course, this violated 2 classroom rules:
1) No throwing things.
2) Wait until the end of class to throw things away.

He missed and someone asked if he was going to put it in the bin. "That's the janitor's job," he responded.

So even though this conversation had nothing to do with the lesson on City States in Mesopotamia, I asked, "Hmmm. Does anyone have a problem with that?"

And two girls schooled him, about respecting people, no matter what their job. They didn't get so much into the personal responsibility aspects. I had just explained the homework which was to compare the social hierarchy in ancient Sumer to our society today. Ironic.

In the end, he caved. "Okay, okay." He muttered as he picked up the trash he threw, and put it in the waste basket.