We were introduced to New Orleans in the bayou on what I thought would be a very "touristy" swamp tour. Instead of a cookie cutter tour we were met with a joyous authentic Cajun soul whose love of his swamp was so large it was contagious. Yes, we fed alligators marshmallows, but what really touched us all deeply was the joy. From the way he spoke of his peoples' love of the swamp and all that resides there, to the jokes he told about his numerous cousins or the respect he proclaimed for an energy of a mixed culture (Native American, African and French) there was joy.
The land we found ourselves immersed in was that of a fantasy with an underlying energy of magic greater than any I have ever felt.
In the New Orleans French Quarter the joy continued with drive-through daiquiri bars and beignets with powdered sugar smiles. But once our systems adapted to the lights and extravagant surroundings we saw suffering and sorrow.
As we walked past the multiple bronze statues on the riverside of the French Quarter, the girls would jump on them and talk to them as if they were real, living the magic we felt in the Bayou. Daya ran to approach another and quickly realized it was not a statue but a man with dark chocolate colored skin covered in rags seeking shade from the heat on a bench. He looked at her with such sorrowful eyes. She looked at me with puzzlement, "Mommy is he ok? Is he a man without a home? Do we have food for him?"
Next, we found ourselves on the steps of the riverside to eat our lunch and watch the cruise ships. Here we encountered a man free-styling to earn a wage. When I looked in his direction he incorporated me into his freestyle asking for donations. Before I had time to even consider what he was asking his freestyle quickly changed to rage and hostility. A list of profanities against my "white children" and family ensued. His anger was centered, I am sure, in fear and suffering.
My heart rate quickened and fear abounded in my chest. I was aware that my body was demonstrating on a very visceral level the beliefs of my subconscious. A new awareness has taken root in me, through the eyes of my children. This new awareness is of the unconscious prejudice I carry being a product of this society. What separates these men and myself biologically is a mere concentration of melanin, that's it! However, having grown up a white female in this nation there is so much more that separates these men and me.
I remember as a child seeing things that placed these men of color below me, that of less than. As a child in a mixed colored church those of color sat in the back while my family and others with skin like ours sat in front. I often wonder what Daya and Adrie see that continues to feed into this separation.
There is so much suffering that I will never understand because my skin is white. What I know is as a white female in this country I have received certain benefits and formed an unconscious bias that lives within me, not a fault of mine but as a product of this society. I am attempting to no longer hide in it's muting grip when it manifests in fear but promise to be aware of its existence. Not shame myself but know I can choose. Choose another conscious path to offer food, water, a loving smile, a warm embrace, and most of all love!
I will have the courage to bare witness to my unconscious bias that has identified people of color so many times as an enemy or someone to be feared. I want to stand up for the love that resides in us all, no matter the concentration of melanin in our skin.