My weekend

I don’t think, at least I don’t remember, anyone yelling at me and calling me the N word. I’ve been called a bitch, of which I’m totally desensitized to now that I don’t care. When the woman in question yelled at me and called me a Virginia n***** it really didn’t come as any surprise but when I thought about it, it is a bit disturbing. It was not surprising because the woman doing the yelling is white, nuts and homeless, but more importantly, nuts. That and she was yelling complete nonsense at three Black women loading their car up in front of Filene’s Basement in Friendship Heights calling them the “N” word too. A lot. So when I spotted her again as I walked back to the metro, I figured she’d yell at me too. Normally, when I’m in the area she’s just babbling to herself and I generally ignore her. She could have been calling me names then, but this time she was a little hard to ignore.
On a more positive note, my church does some work with the homeless, doing soup kitchen work and such. I figured I would volunteer working the soup kitchen for Lent but never expected that it would be such a thrill. Of course, I think I showed up after most of the hardest cooking was done. It wasn’t the chore I thought it would be and I had a great time fixing sandwiches, chopping cheese, pouring soup, packing bags and distributing them. I can’t wait to do it again.

6 thoughts on “My weekend”

  1. I’m surprised that you have never been called the N word before. I’m lighter than most latinos, and I grew up in a place (NYC) that is much more cosmopolitan than DC, but I can remember several times that I have been called a spic. I thought true racial harmony only occurs in Benneton ads.

    I know that one person who called me that (and used the N word a lot) dropped out of high school and ended up driving a tow truck, so I guess karma is a bitch.

  2. I’ve been called “honkey” and “cracker” by some homeless folks around U St numerous times. At first it was jarring but, sadly, I’ve gotten used to it.

    I guess if it’s a mentally ill person you can’t expect too much.

  3. I’m a particular fan of those with Tourette’s Syndrome (sp?) – people for whom there is no filter between their thoughts and what comes out of their mouth. It’s the closest you can get to being psycic – being next to those people on the bus or subway…they constantly mutter exactly what they are thinking.

    When I was in the Soviet Union I had to barge my way out of a train to get off in time…someone called me a “Wild Caucasian” in Russian, which is actually a racist term (there) about barbarians hailing from the Caucasus mountain region. I am a big hairy wild barbarian, apparently.

  4. Anyway, as far as I can remember I haven’t been directly called the n word. I have heard it, but it is usually someone addressing someone who wasn’t me. I’ve been called other names, but not that particular one, directly.

  5. I was parking my car near my home last November. The car windows were down (global warming?), and a person in his early teens was riding by on a bicycle. He looked right at me as he rode past my car and called me a N—–. (I’m white; he is black.)

    Other gems: “Another white motherf—–.” (from a black woman near the fish market in SW)

    “Cracker” (from a black male teen on P st. NW)

    “Cracker” (from a older black male on FL ave NW)

  6. Does “exactly what we need around here…another f&*king UrbanPioneer” count? That one was thrown at me by an elected official from our ‘hood.

    There is a drug dealer/user on my street that has called me every name in the book (honkey, chalk boy, cracker…others that should just be kept to myself)…I just laugh and keep calling the popo on his a$$ every time I see him selling drugs on my street.

    Both of these folks could be certified crazy so I do not take it personally.

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