White Woman Walking
People fear me
This summer, dealing with Covid, my husband and I have been spending more time at home, but I’ve tried to take a long walk every day. Walking isn’t a big activity in our small town, 28 miles from Pittsburgh, and anyone walking around town regularly gets noticed. We live in a historically Black neighborhood with a big AME church and families who have lived here for generations.
A couple of weeks ago, I was walking down a neighborhood street and restarting my cell phone, when a young Black man tensely asked me, “what are you doing?” I looked up at him and said, “oh, I just restarted my phone,” and he said, “oh, okay,” and waved me on. He was concerned, of course, that I was calling the police. About what, I don’t know, it doesn’t matter. He saw me, a white woman, walking in his neighborhood with a phone, and he knows women who look like me can be dangerous dialers, who treat the police as their personal bully force to pick on anyone doing anything they don’t like.
The thing is, people notice me, as a white woman walking around. Living here and being classified as dangerous based on my race and gender has given me a tiny glimpse into how it can feel to be Black in America. More importantly, I’ve learned there are different ways to walk. I can walk like a polite guest down someone else’s street, or I can stride down the street like I own it. As an American, I’ve been taught to take ownership, but the reality is, I don’t own the street, and it’s understandable when people take offense if I act like I do. On the other hand, when I walked by a house with a frantically barking dog recently, the owner said, “quiet now, she’s not after you.” If people can sense I’m just minding my business, they’re completely fine with me. I’ve come to realize that at times in the past, my ego was showing, and it wasn’t pretty.
When people see me, they quickly classify me as a white woman and then ask themselves, is she dangerous? Should I be afraid of her? Or is she just fine, just a neighbor out walking?
We convey our insides without even trying.
A little humility is appreciated.
That’s what I’ve learned this summer, walking.
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