It is the end of the day, and I have been running on fumes since I woke up this morning.
I even contemplated how I was going to find the energy to talk about my hair being the topic of discussion at work, but after another racially focused conversation with my boss…
I figured, let’s get into it…while on the clock.
One of my good friends is getting married this weekend. Because I don’t have the time or patience to deal with getting my hair done, I decided to put passion twists in my hair this past weekend. I figured the changing of my hair would bring some people to comment (it always does), but today felt a bit different.
The only people who commented were the owner of the company, a manager, and one other person. All three of them are white men. I don’t think a single woman said anything to me about my hair today. The manager asked me how long it took, which took me by surprise. He and the owner both told me my hair looked nice. I awkwardly accepted the comment and moved on.
But it was the third guy who made me feel some type of way. He said my hair made me look like I was ready to fight. I rolled with it and said I am always ready to fight to make a joke out of it. A coworker from my department happened to be around, and she made a comment. She asked if I had ever worked somewhere where so many people had something to say about my hair.
I was quick to suppress my initial response of “No, because I have never worked in such a minimally diverse company before,” but I just laughed and told her no.
But it is not the first time that someone has made a comment about me basically whooping someone’s ass. I was introduced to a new employee, and his manager basically told him that while my coworker may kick his butt, I definitely would. On St. Patrick’s Day, I failed to wear green, and another manager made a comment about if she pinched me that I would probably knock her out.
There have been other comments here and there, but today really had me reflect on them. I am not a tiny girl, and I definitely make it known that I will not put up with shit. But at the same time, I can not recall a time that I have asserted myself as a violent person without real provocation.
I told my husband, as I always do. He asked if I was okay, and I said either I am too tired or I just accepted that it isn’t worth having the awkward conversation. Though I did ask the manager if I seemed like a violent person. He said no and smirked before saying I look like I could hold my own, though, and I look like I was “raised.”
But as I step away from my assumptions about my coworkers and my blackness, I stepped right into another conversation about Asians.
Now, I do feel like we live in an overly PC society these days, and many people are too easily offended. However, I try to stay in my lane to some extent. It is not my place to tell another marginalized group how they should feel about certain language targeted at them. So when it comes to the word “Oriental,” I try to fall in line with the least problematic approach.
So today, my boss is telling us a story and stated that he was informed he shouldn’t use a word about Asians. While he was trying to remember the word, I offered, “I hope you don’t mean ‘oriental.'”
He tells me that it is and asks me why it is offensive and why young people felt it was their job to dictate that. I always find it funny how comfortable he is spewing out bullshit.
I simply told him from my understanding that oriental is usually in reference to objects and that the history of the word has had a negative connotation in reference to Asian people. Long story short, he stated he would still use the word and he determined it was not offensive.
WTF!?
It is such a roller coaster working here because, for the most part, I genuinely like the people I work with, but some of the older people (and a few younger ones) say some problematic shit. And I always wonder where that leaves me when I am smack dab in the middle of it with no exit plan.
The Office Black Girl 