"Easy” Does It on the Metro
Photo Credit: Unsplash - julianlozano ©
When I lived in Maryland, I was about a 10 minute walk from the Prince George’s Plaza Metro station. It was super convenient for when I wanted to go into the district and not have to drive. For anyone who has taken the DC metro before, you know about the difference in fares relative to rush hour – it costs less after 7pm. On a Friday I was meeting friends for happy hour and arrived to the metro station at 6:57pm
I decided to wait for the next train and save a dollar on my commute. As I waited, I noticed another woman who was standing next to the turn-style, but not entering. I leaned in and said: “Waiting on 7pm too?” She replied: “Yea, 7:01pm to be exact, you never know with the metro.” Our exchanged ended, and she proceeded to swipe her SmartCard and walk through the turn-style. I followed.
Entering the turn-style to the left of this woman at the same time was a youth. In a quick exchange, I hear and see the woman in front of me say to this youth: “No smoking on the metro.” To which he replied: “F___ you, lady. Ain’t nobody smoking. Mind your damn business, lady. What you, the metro police.” Directly after the youth’s reply as we all walked towards the down escalator, I said: “Easy.”
While I am uncertain how often exchanges like this one occur on the metro, I know that there are social identity dynamics that underpin this incident and make both an analysis of this situation and trying to answer the question: “What is one to do?” very interesting. So, allow me satisfy your curiosity and complicate this scenario.
The woman in this situation was a White woman who look to be middle aged, maybe 45 to 55. She was dressed plainly, a blouse, jeans, and a back pack. The youth was an African American male teenager, possibly 15 to 20 years old. He was wearing jeans, a jacket, and a beanie. And, there was me. That day I was wearing jeans, a track jacket, and a snap back ball cap.
There is no shortage of incidents connected to the idea of White people inappropriately policing Black males regardless of the White person’s role (i.e. citizen, officer). Situations involving Henry Louis Gates, Trayvon Martin, and Trayon Christian illustrate this point very well. In a major way, this metro incident is no different. Simply, what right did this White woman have to police the behavior of this African American young man? Both historical and present-day concepts can help us to understand what influences a sense of entitlement and power for a White person to police the behavior of a Black person; but, this is beyond the scope of this entry. Rather, focusing on the social identity dynamics can help to illustrate the “messiness” of this situation.
The youth did not have a cigarette, though there was some piece of rolled paper in his right hand. To me, his reply was hurtful and tore down the White woman. The youth made his (in)actions clear, emphasized that he did not want to hear anymore from the woman, and checked her role. As a listener, his response was intense and (possibly) uncalled for. However, if you experienced policing constantly, had your behavior evaluated regularly, or were told (explicitly or implicitly) which spaces you could be in, how would you respond? At the risk of projecting and assuming, I can imagine that the youth in this situation experiences policing, evaluating, and being told which spaces are (not) for him more than he would like or should.
I witnessed the exchange happen very fast, and felt compelled to do something. While I didn’t process all that I am articulating in this blog, some ideas quickly raced across my mental marque. So I said one word: “Easy.” In my mind, I hoped that saying this achieved a couple things. I am hoping that the White woman hears this from me, and thinks: “Someone else notices what was said.” I am hoping the youth hears me asking him to pull the brakes some. You see, I’m not on either side here. I don’t really think the White woman should have addressed the youth, and I also don’t think the youth should have responded the way he did. And in all of this, I know there is a risk that one word won’t be interpreted how I would like.
Instead, the possibility exists that the White woman thinks that I agree with her, and the youth believes I am complicit in racial policing. This possibility is devastating to me, but given the pervasiveness of (internalized) racism and White supremacy, this possibility is more likely than the former.
Ultimately, the youth had the final word. He said: “F___ you too!” to me afterwards, leaving me a little hopeless about the situation. Possibly, he was angered, frustrated, and would have responded similarly to this situation regardless of racial identity dynamics. Or, maybe all of what I have described was at play and significant to him as the situation happened. One will never know, and yet this is how race still happens