Thursday, February 04, 2010

My Life In Post-Racial America

I have just returned from a 7.25 mile walk, the highlight of which was being called "nigger" by a bunch of middle school girls in Ft. Tryon Park.

I had stopped to rest after carefully making it halfway down a still-somewhat-icy hill. I was staring out, from my perch, over the playground and past Dyckman Street, into Inwood, when I heard "What you staring at, nigger? Keep walking!". It took me some time to figure out that I was the intended recipient of this helpful bit of advice.

It was, I confess, somewhat disorienting. I have, in my lifetime, been called "fairy", "faggot", "lardass", "hump", "blubber butt", "jewboy" and (my favorite) "putrid synagoguer" -- I swear! -- but I never have been nor ever expected to be called "nigger". I have not yet decided whether this is some sign of progress...

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