Just Keep Walkin'...

I know I haven't been consistent in my postings. Life has been, well...interesting. To say the least..if it weren't for coffee, well...would I be lost? Naw, not really. But would I wander around, disoriented and confused for a bit? Maybe. Read on.
The latest...
   I took a temp job at a local Hospice organization last week. Might be an ongoing job, who knows. Awesome people, great cause, and a great location, within walking distance, although I don't walk to work, and here's the reason:
   This last Friday morning, I decided to take a coffee break at the Starbucks across the street. I approached the busy intersection at Fulton and Marconi, only to be greeted by an older black woman sitting on the corner with what I assumed were her belongings, and a "street friend" (a white man) who had a backpack on. They had been conversing (it was apparent that they knew each other), and when I approached the intersection, here is what ensued:

Black Lady: "Oh, don't you be lookin' down on me."
Me: (Silent, confused).
Black Lady: "Yeah, I'm talking to you."
Me: "Me?" (Looking around, confused.)
Black Lady: "Yeah, you."
Me: Silent.
Black Lady: "I know that look. You think you better than me. Fuck you."
Me: "No, I don't." (Trying to gather my wits.)
Black Lady: "Oh, yes you do. You look down on us."
Me: "I am not looking down on anyone." (I was going to say "Miss", but...that would be the Nashville comin' out of me, and I wasn't in Nashville, so...)
Black Lady: "You looking down on me. I know you."
Me: "No, I am not looking down on you."
Black Lady: "I know you. I know your kind."
Me: "I don't know you, and you don't know me."
Black Lady: "Oh, I know you. I can read you like a book."
Me: "No, you don't know me. I'm just standing here, waiting for the light."
Black Lady: "You think you better than all of us."

This lady started babbling on about (from what I could decipher) what she felt were injustices of her being on the street, her situation, etc. She yelled after me, cursing and swearing. I felt like some sort of pariah.
   Mind you, I was dressed in business attire (as required by my temp agency). Never mind that I was working a full-time job for a hospice organization - people who deal with death and dying, every day. People of every race, color, creed and culture. So I was kind of in the mode of "death takes all prisoners".
  Thankfully, a very kind (rather large) black man came to my rescue:

Huge Black Dude: "Hey, wha'sup?"
Me: "I'm ok, you? (Still a bit shaken up)
Huge Black Dude: "Listen up. Don't talk to people like that. Just keep walkin'. Don't pay no attention to that."
Me: "Okay."
Huge Black Dude: "It don't matter. What they say don't matter."
Me: "Why?"
Huge Black Dude: "They bad talk you because they don't know nothing else. Nothing good will come of it. If you talk back, one of two things will happen. You'll be street tagged, or the cops will come. Just keep walkin'. Best thing."
Me: "I didn't do anything."
Huge Black Dude: "Don't matter."

Well, it did (kinda) matter to me, but...I did keep on walking, as directed. No one was happier to reach the doors of Starbucks than I was that day. I agreed with this man; this situation was not enough for me to engage, and at the same time, I learned a lot about life on the streets of Sacramento.

What did I learn? That there are several different types of homeless/transient/street people, and learned that race and ethnicity may have very little to do with it. It is largely about socio-economic class/status...a "byproduct" that is [somewhat] removed by the issue of race and color, but not by much. What I observed is that this black woman had the company of a white man with a backpack, and once she tried to engage/argue with me about my appearance, he was the one that backed off/disappeared, and was nowhere to be found when the above incident went down.

So who was there? Me, dressed in business attire (a requirement of the job) with a Beijo purse and Coach sunglasses.

No, I did not engage in an argument about who I was, but...it was a long few minutes on the corner as I was being judged, up and down, by a woman who claimed she could "read me like a book". Could I claim the same? Could I read her like a book? It's true...she didn't know me, but I didn't know her. Nothing good could have come from arguing that my own ancestry and history included genocide, violence, abuse, pain and suffering. I think Mr. Huge Black Dude was my angel that day.

Stereotypes. Big heavy sigh. What do we do with them? We are all a bit prejudiced to some degree...after all, 'birds of a feather"...but when it comes down to being a human being in the bigger picture of Planet Earth, well...that's where I get a bit defensive. It's not about race, color, religion or socio-economic status. It is about being a good human being. It is sad when it is reduced down to a street corner on Marconi and Fulton.

After dealing with "Ms. Street Corner"...I over-heard her begging for cash and coins from passersby. I myself was about to reach in my wallet and prove that I was not who she said I was. If it weren't for my Angel that day, I probably would have. Just keep walkin'. Sad.

Homelessness and transient problems are big issues here in Sacramento...as it is in most metros. There are organizations that try very hard to help, such as http://sacramentostepsforward.org/, http://www.sacramentofoodbank.org/, as well as several churches and non-profits. But as I live and breathe in the "inner city"...I often wonder if homelessness is or is not a lifestyle choice. I'm sure it is not for a few, but...when I see overflowing grocery carts parked on major thoroughfares...when I see aggressive beggars behind cardboard signs...when I experience what I did yesterday, first-hand, well...it causes me to think about life in general.

Since moving here, I've befriended a few "street folks". Most recently, I've befriended a recovering crack addict who is attending a nearby church, trying to get her life in order. She loves our dog, Logan, and she goes on and on about her life, her plans for the future, her disabled mother. Sometimes she puts her hand on my shoulder and prays. I don't mind. If it helps, I will pray with her. But most of the time, all she needs is someone to listen to her. I will listen. I'm good at listening.

If "Ms. Street Corner" could read me like a book, she would know that I would listen to her, too. But I wasn't dressed for the occasion. Usually, when I go out into the "hood", I'm dressed in sweat pants, a flannel jacket-shirt and slip on tennis shoes. My hair is tied up in a scrappy bun...little or no makeup...and I fit right in. Funny, how the one day I dress otherwise, waiting at an intersection for a light...and I'm judged and "read like a book".

When I lived in Nashville, race was never an issue. I befriended and respected so many fellow human beings, regardless of color, creed, religion, etc. More specific individuals...Coylette James of Coylette James Ministries...Pastor Henry Coles of Faith Life...in circles of prayer with Sharon Skaggs (wife of Ricky Skaggs) and the amazing Sarah Lowe with the National Day of Prayer campaigns...singing in The Nashville Choir with so many talented musicians and vocalists. Call me naive, but...I still do not understand how race, ethnicity and religion are even players in the fight for humanity these days.

How can anyone "read me as a book"? Let me help you. I'm a music minister at an Episcopal Church in the adorable, cute little hamlet of Sutter Creek, California. I run a small community newspaper, Amador Community News, out of my home. I am the webmaster of several sites and blogs. I take a temp job now and then...like I did last week with this hospice organization. I love coffee. I love Bollywood movies. I love music...

Please, read me like a book. But be accurate. If I had the balls, I might have asked this black woman on the corner to join me at Starbucks for a cup of coffee. But I was too scared because of her biasness towards me, a fellow human being on Planet Earth.

Unfortunate, but...thanks to an angel who walked me the rest of the way..."It don't matter. Nothing good will come of it. Just keep walkin'. Best thing."

What a world.