I did it again. Put myself between black man and danger. This is the third time in recent memory. What do I know? I only know that I am not afraid of black men, not like I'm supposed to be. But what has me upset is that I didn't get a chance to say all that I was thinking in that situation. What I wanted to say was: "All these people on this train hate you, don't give them the reason to take away your freedom. I don't hate you. Just let go of this rinky dink ass bicycle and run away and be a free man."The Asian man sat holding his bicycle, reading his foreign language newspaper. The three young black men stood on the door opposite me. I was hot and so I took off my jacket. The other black man sat next to the Asian man. (this is a story of race, action and editorial) At 116th Street, the kid in the green Gap sweatshirt steps out of the train and grabs the back wheel. His partner holds open the door. The bike is held by the Asian, the pole by the door and the bike's own awkwardness. I stand for a moment. The crime does not happen in an instant although the intent is clear. It can go either way. This kid is not an accomplished thief. I move forward and grab the bicycle by its beat up seat. The kid does not look up at me. He struggles. The subway car crowd yells 'Get a job!' 'Work for what you want!' and other such venom. The black man sitting next to the Asian stands and shouts 'Leave it alone!'. I cannot recall the precise words. The kid tells him to mind his own business. My hand remains on the seat. I am closest of them all to the action, my shin is barked by the pedals. The subway doors open and stutter closed, almost. People are shouting 'Police! - I'm going to call the police!'. The kid relents. He and his two would-be accomplices step out at 116th Street and Broadway.
The black man who was sitting next to the Asian apologized. 'I'm sorry about that, man'. 'How are you doing?' he asks. The Asian man shakes his head and says nothing. The expression on his face said 'How the fuck do you think I'm doing?' I can practically hear his heart racing. The black woman in the middle of the car whom I earlier heard yelling but did not see was wearing a white hat with the pink flower in the brim. I turn to look as she speaks out again. 'They makes us all look bad. I knew they were going to try something'. I say the only thing that I said for the whole trip. 'So you are a mind reader?' Somebody laughs. I am angry in the same way I am always angry whenever this happens. 'This' without the opportunity to speak. 'This' without the performance. 'This' being the hatred the trainful reserves for the black kid in the green Gap sweatshirt and beat up shoes.
What more is there to say? Americans are cowards.
What would Americans do without niggaz to despise? At whom would they shout? From where would they draw examples? Not many folk talk about Satan any longer. Flip Wilson used to say, "The Devil made me do it", but since we have niggaz, we don't need the Devil. And of course now since there is no Devil for us to blame for our own weaknesses, we can be cowards and point our fingers. A coward lets a teenager accomplish crime. A coward lets his children die in the streets and then cries pitifully all over the newspaper. She waits on her front porch for the reporters to show up. I wonder why it is children that are always in the news as victims of horrible crimes. And then I realize that these victims are those who have not yet learned to become accomplished cowards. The adults, who have learned very well, are not present when danger is. And so we learn all about it, after the fact. Accomplished cowards live 1000 times to tell the horror stories that the coward network is dying to hear. The best cowards know everywhere that is dangerous. It takes a lot of work to become a good coward. Just as it takes a lot of work to become a good thief. American children have a lot to learn.
I did it again. Put myself between black man and danger. This is the third time in recent memory. What do I know? I only know that I am not afraid of black men, not like I'm supposed to be. But what has me upset is that I didn't get a chance to say all that I was thinking in that situation. What I wanted to say was: "All these people on this train hate you, don't give them the reason to take away your freedom. I don't hate you. Just let go of this rinky dink ass bicycle and run away and be a free man."