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CONTINUOUS STRUGGLES IN CANADA: FOOTNOTE FROM MY DIARY
November 28th 2000
For a moment I thought of calling my favourite airline – British Airways – to arrange for my flight, at the earliest possible time, to my homeland. I have had it. When someone who cleans parking lots early in the morning can doubt your bona fides, even when you are in your best suit and feel very good about yourself, it is time to pack up and go. It was the first best day of 1993, March 30th. I was wearing my best new suit. It was sunny. As I parked in the reserved spot for Board members (as I always did) I was thinking of how I was going to step outside my new car and walk “New York style” to the entrance of the building. When you adopt a New York style of walking, every piece of the ground is a runway. New York walk involves many forms. My favourite style is thrusting one leg further in front while dragging the other one slowly, at the same time slanting your frame and tipping your shoulder on one side. I adopt the New York style of walking when I feel good about myself. I was feeling good about myself on the morning of March 30th, 1993.
As I opened the door of my car and stepped outside, a parking lot cleaner tapped me on my shoulder and said, “Do you know that you are not supposed to park here. This spot is reserved for board members. If you want to park here you have to pay for it.” The first reaction that came over me was to commit an assault on the parking lot cleaner for violating my dignity and self-worth. The second reaction was that I could not assault this man because I didn’t know his motivation, so I collected myself to inquire about it. I looked down and saw my face reflected on my shoes. They were that polished. My suit was new and well fitted for me. So what was the problem?
“Why can’t I park here?”, I asked him. He said, “Because that space was reserved for Board members.” I straightened my tie and asked, “What do you think about me?” “Well, this space is reserved,” he replied. This man, I thought, did not get it. I tried another route. “Suppose I were a white man dressed as I now am, would you suggest to me that this spot was reserved and that I should not park here?” At this inquiry, he looked around and I could see that he began to see the point that I had been driving at. I accelerated, questioning him further, “suppose I was a white man driving this new Nissan Stanza, dressed as I am, would you ask me to pay for this spot because it is reserved? No reply, I slowed considerably. “Well Mister”, I said, “be satisfied, now if I tell you that I am a board member and I think that you are a racist – as racist as they come.” He suggested to me that I should have told him at the outset that I was a board member. I retorted, “Why should I have done so?” Why should he have told me what he did, assuming that I was not a board member? He retreated apologizing profusely. It was his own prejudice which had taken him for a ride. It was a small point but it spoke volumes of meanings.
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