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Man's eye-opening story about taking 'a black walk' in a white neighborhood goes viral

"There is an art to making white people feel safe."

Photo by Vonecia Carswell on Unsplash

For Black people, something as simple as taking a walk isn't so simple.

Though we're all part of the same species living on the same planet, our experience as humans walking through this world can differ widely. Children see things through a different lens than adults. Women and men have different perspectives on certain issues. And because racism has long been an active element in our society, people with varying amounts of melanin in their skin face specific challenges that others don't.

As a white American, I don't instinctively know what it's like to walk in a Black person's shoes. I can tell you about the legacy of white supremacy laced throughout our country's history. I can explain the far-reaching effects of slavery, lynch mobs, Jim Crow laws, redlining, mass incarceration, and more. I can intellectually break down the psychological and sociological impact of centuries of race-based oppression.

But I can't tell you what it feels like to walk through this world, right now, as a Black person—which is why it's so important to listen to the voices of people who can.

David Summers shared a story on Facebook that reflects the experience of many Black Americans—one that can help us non-Black folks see through a lens we simply do not and cannot have. Perhaps that's why it's been shared more than 20,000 times. From the fear that any object he carries might be mistaken as a gun to figuring out how to smile at a stranger just right so he won't be considered a threat, the "black thoughts" Summers describes during his walk through a beautiful, white neighborhood—presumably a neighborhood most of us would consider "safe"—are heartbreaking.

He wrote:

"I took a black walk this morning. I took a black walk through a white neighborhood. When I take black walks, I think black thoughts. I am conscious of where I've placed my gun, my gun, and my gun. I mean, my phone, my wallet, and my keys. Because Peace Officers have a hard time telling the difference. I rehearse what I'll say if a concerned resident, or a law enforcement employee has questions about why my black body is walking through their white space. And I remind myself to make sure the law enforcement employee has his body camera recording. Sometimes it helps if there is video evidence to accompany the hashtag.

There is no way to be stealthy when you take a black walk. White neighborhoods are blanketed by a sophisticated security system comprised of nosy neighbors, Ring doorbell cameras, and white women walking their dogs. So, I've learned to notice the white world through my periphery. To be aware of the dangers without acknowledging them. There is an art to making white people feel safe. To say 'Good Morning' and flash a smile that shows confidence and deference at the same time. To being polite because your life depends on it.

I felt the squad car behind me before I saw it.

It moved deliberately. Not like the other cars mindlessly whizzing past. Its tires inched. Crept. Stalked their way toward me.

I kept walking.

"Don't take your hands out of your pockets," I thought. Or wait, maybe I should? Maybe it's better if my hands are clearly empty. But it's cold outside…maybe it's nothing. Keep walking.

The car rolled past me and made a slow right turn. I glanced quickly but didn't stare. The air is still. My ears tuned out everything but the slight scuff of my sneakers on the sidewalk and the fading sound of those stalking tires.

Almost there.

Suddenly the squad car re-emerged. It was a block ahead of me. It made a quick right turn, continued to the end of the street, and then waited. No more stalking. This was a show of force. This was a roar. This was a reminder that I was trespassing.

I kept walking.

As I approached the corner, the front window began to roll down. The occupant didn't speak. Didn't smile. Just stared. I was being warned.

I crossed the street and the lion trotted off. He had effectively marked his territory. The brave protector had done his job.

I however, couldn't help but wonder what I'd missed during my black walk. It's hard to hear the birds chirping, or to smile at the squirrels playfully darting along the branches when you're on a black walk. It's easy to miss the promise of a light blue sky, or appreciate the audacity of the red, yellow, and purple daisies declaring their independence from the green grass when your mind is preoccupied with black thoughts.

I took a walk through a beautiful neighborhood this morning. But I missed the whole thing."

Thank you, Mr. Summers, for sharing your "black walk" experience. Hopefully, it will prompt us all to ask ourselves whether our words and actions serve to reinforce or remedy what you've described.


This article originally appeared five years ago.

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10 Black women sat in first class on an airplane and it revealed a lot about race in America

"This weekend I went on a girls trip. 10 Black women flying first class. People literally could not process how it was possible."

via Angie Jones / Twitter and Matt Blaze / Flickr

Software developer Angie Jones' recent girls trip revealed that America still has a long way to go when it comes to race. To most, that's not surprising. But what's unique is how the specific experience Jones and her friends went through revealed the pervasive way systemic racism still runs through our culture.

Jones is the Senior Director of Developer Relations at Applitools, holds 26 patented inventions in the United States of America and Japan, and is an IBM Master Inventor.

On July 27, she tweeted about a flight she took with nine other Black women and they all sat in first class. "People literally could not process how it was possible," she wrote. "Staff tried to send us to regular lines. Passengers made snide remarks. One guy even yelled 'are they a higher class of people than I am?!'"

Jones and her friends were the targets of racism that ranged from the seemingly unconscious — people who assumed that Black people don't sit in first class — to the blatant — those who were seriously bothered that Black people were being treated as having a higher status.

It's interesting that she didn't mention anyone saying "good for you" for succeeding in a world that often holds people of color back. Instead, she was greeted with incredulity and jealous rage.

There are a lot of white people who can't stand the idea of a Black person being elevated above them. It's disturbing that in there are still some who will admit it publicly.

Jones' tweets inspired a lot of people to share their stories about the racism they've experienced while flying first class.

Jones' tweets also angered some people to the point that they denied her story. To which she responded, "To those saying I'm lying, you're a huge part of the problem," she wrote. "You tell yourself a notable person is lying (for what reason, I cannot figure out) before you believe there are actual racists in...America."

One Twitter user came up with the perfect retort to the person who asked, "Are they a higher class of people than I am?!"

This article originally appeared three years ago.

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10 commonly used phrases that have racist origins

All language has a history.




As much as we'd like to pretend every phrase we utter is a lone star suspended in the space of our own genius, all language has a history. Unfortunately, given humanity's aptitude for treating each other like shit, etymology is fraught with reminders of our very racist world.

Since I have faith that most of you reading want to navigate the world with intelligence and empathy, I figured it'd be useful to share some of the everyday phrases rooted in racist etymology.

Knowledge is power, and the way we use and contextualize our words can make a huge difference in the atmospheres we create.

1. Thug


According to Meriam-Webster's dictionary definition, a thug is "a violent criminal." Obviously, this definition leaves the word open to define people of all ethnicities.

However, given the frequent ways this word has been used to describe Black Lives Matter protesters, the 17-year-old murder victim Trayvon Martin, and sadly, almost every black victim of police brutality — there is an undeniable racial charge to the word.

When you consider the people who are called thugs — groups of black protesters, victims of racist violence, teenagers minding their own business, and flip the racial element, you'd be hard-pressed to find examples of white people being called thugs in earnest by the media (or really by anyone).

Several prominent activists and black writers have written about the phenomenon of thug replacing the n-word in modern culture. In a popular press conference back in 2014, the Seattle Seahawks player Richard Sherman explained his feelings about the word.

"The reason it bothers me is because it seems like it's an accepted way of calling somebody the N-word now. It's like everybody else said the N-word and then they say 'thug' and that's fine. It kind of takes me aback and it's kind of disappointing because they know," Sherman said.

If you're talking about an actual criminal, there are so many descriptive words to invoke besides "thug." Given its current use as a negative, racially-coded word, avoiding its use seems like an easy and obvious move.

2. Grandfather Clause


When most of us hear the term "grandfather clause" we just think of the generalized description: a person or entity that is allowed to continue operating over now expired rules. But the literal meaning reveals the "grandfather clause" was a racist post-Reconstruction political strategy.

This is the historical definition, according to Encyclopedia Britannica:

"Grandfather clause, statutory or constitutional device enacted by seven Southern states between 1895 and 1910 to deny suffrage to African Americans. It provided that those who had enjoyed the right to vote prior to 1866 or 1867, or their lineal descendants, would be exempt from educational, property, or tax requirements for voting. Because the former slaves had not been granted the franchise until the adoption of the Fifteenth Amendment in 1870, those clauses worked effectively to exclude black people from the vote but assured the franchise to many impoverished and illiterate whites."

In modern speak, this basically meant the Grandfather Clause let white people off the hook for new voting requirements because their ancestors were already registered voters. Meanwhile, black people were required to fill out impossible literacy tests and pay exorbitant poll taxes to vote. This in turn, meant many black people were unable to vote, while white people weren't held to the same standard.

3. Gypsy or "Gyp"


The word "Gypsy" was (and is) a racial slur referring to the Roma people. The Roma people are descendants of Northern India who, due to severe marginalization and threats of violence by others, lived a nomadic lifestyle of forced migration for centuries.

During a fraught history, Roma people were taken as slaves in Romania and were targeted for genocide by the Nazis.

The word "Gypsy" is a slang word perpetuating stereotypes of Roma people as "thieves, rowdies, dirty, immoral, con-men, asocials, and work-shy" according to the Council of Europe.

In a similar vein, the term "Gyp" or "getting gypped" means to cheat or get conned, and many connect this meaning as another racist extension of Gypsy.

4. No Can Do

According to the Oxford Dictionary, the very common phrase "no can do" was originally made popular as a way to make fun of Chinese immigrants.

"The widespread use of the phrase in English today has obscured its origin: what might seem like folksy, abbreviated version of I can’t do it is actually an imitation of Chinese Pidgin English. The phrase dates from the mid-19th to early-20th centuries, an era when Western attitudes towards the Chinese were markedly racist."

5. Sold Down The River

Upon first hearing, many people associate the phrase "sold down the river" with the notion of being betrayed, lied to, or otherwise screwed over. While these definitions all technically apply to the origin, the root of this phrase is much more bleak.

According to a report from NPR, being "sold down the river" was a literal reference to slavery, and the families that were torn apart in the south.

"River" was a literal reference to the Mississippi or Ohio rivers. For much of the first half of the 19th century, Louisville, Ky., was one of the largest slave-trading marketplaces in the country. Slaves would be taken to Louisville to be "sold down the river" and transported to the cotton plantations in states further south.

This heavy connotation sadly makes sense, but also makes casual use of the phrase feel way more cringe-inducing.

6. Welfare Queen

The term "welfare queen" was first popularized by Ronald Reagan's 1976 presidential campaign in which he repeatedly painted a picture of a Cadillac-driving welfare queen.

This straw woman in Reagan's campaign served as a racially-charged exaggeration of one minor case of real welfare fraud used to pedal his platform for welfare reform.

Needless to say, the term has sadly lived on as a racially-charged vehicle used to undermine the importance of welfare programs, while peddling gross stereotypes about black women.

On top of all the other offenses, this stereotype is of course ignoring the fact that poor white Americans receive the most welfare out of any economically-disadvantaged demographic.

7. Shuck And Jive

The term shuck and jive is both common and very obviously rooted in the language of slavery.

According to the Online Etymology Dictionary, the phrase shuck and jive refers to:

"The fact that black slaves sang and shouted gleefully during corn-shucking season, and this behavior, along with lying and teasing, became a part of the protective and evasive behavior normally adopted towards white people in ' traditional' race relations."

Likewise, the modern usage of this phrase refers to pandering, selling out, or instances in which black people go along with racist white people's wishes. Again, not a phrase to be thrown around lightly.

8. Long Time No See

The very commonly used greeting "long time no see" first became popular as a way to make fun of Native Americans. The phrase was used as a way to mock a traditional greeting exchanged between Native Americans.

This is the official definition, according to the Oxford Dictionary:

"Long Time No See was originally meant as a humorous interpretation of a Native American greeting, used after a prolonged separation. The current earliest citation recorded in the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) comes from W.F. Drannan’s book Thirty-one Years on Plains (1901): ‘When we rode up to him [sc. an American Indian] he said: ‘Good mornin. Long time no see you’."

The act of committing genocide is not limited to human lives, but also translates to a normalized cultural violence. Deconstructing, mocking, and erasing someone's language contributes to this pattern of colonialism.

9. The Peanut Gallery

Most modern uses of the term "the peanut gallery" is in reference to a group of people who needlessly criticize or mocking another person. However, the historical roots of this term are much more racist and painful.

Originally, this term referred to the balconies in segregated theaters where black people were forced to sit. The nickname "peanut" was given due to the fact that peanuts were introduced to America at the same time as the slave trade. Because of this, there was a connection drawn between black people and peanuts.

10. Uppity

As of now, the word "uppity" is often used as a synonym for "stuck up" or "pretentious" or "conceited." But the roots of the word are far more specific and racist.

The word Uppity was first used by Southerners to refer to slaves who did not fall into line, or acted as if they "didn't know their place."

So, basically, any black person who overtly stood up to racism. Given the heaviness of this origin, it seems best to leave this word at home when looking to describe a pretentious acquaintance.

Sadly, given our ugly history, there are many more words and phrases I could add to this list. In the meantime, hopefully this list is helpful for navigating the racism innate in our language.


The article was originally published by our partners at someecards and was written by Bronwyn Isacc. It originally appeared on 02.04.19

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Elizabeth Eckford made history at age 15. Here's the full story behind the iconic photo.

She faced the angry white mob—and the Arkansas National Guard—alone on her first day of high school in 1957. But that was only the beginning.

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15-year-old Elizabeth Eckford was one of the Little Rock Nine who attended the first integrated high school in Arkansas.

On September 4, 1957, nine students arrived at Central High School in Little Rock, Arkansas for their first day of school. They were bright students, chosen for their academic excellence to attend the most prestigious school in the state. They were there to learn—and to make history as the first Black students to attend the previously all-white school.

They wouldn't enter the school that day, nor for weeks after. Their entrance was barred not only by an angry white mob but by the Arkansas National Guard who were called in by the governor to prevent the students from integrating the school.

Eight of the nine arrived together that first day in a carpool arranged by the local NAACP chapter. One student, 15-year-old Elizabeth Eckford, didn't have a telephone at home and was unable to be reached to learn about the carpool plan. She took the city bus, which dropped her off within two blocks of the school. As she approached, she faced the racist crowd alone.

One photo encapsulated much—but not all—of the moment. We see Eckford being followed by a group of angry white segregationists, but we can't see that they were yelling, "Lynch her! Lynch her!" We can see the Arkansas National Guard, but we can't see that President Eisenhower would have to call in federal troops weeks later to finally get the students into the building. We see Elizabeth Eckford walking with her head high, but we can't see the courage and resolve it took her not to walk through a crowd of people threatening to kill her just for wanting to go to school.

We see a snapshot of a horrific moment in American history, but we can't see what happened after.

After being barred entrance to the school, Eckford tried to return home, but she was unable to go back to the bus stop where she'd been dropped off due to the 250 or so angry white people behind her. She decided to try to get to the next bus stop a block ahead of her.

Buddy Lonesome of the St. Louis Argus described what he had witnessed at the scene: "The mob of twisted whites, galvanized into vengeful action by the inaction of the heroic state militia, was not willing that the young school girl should get off so easily. Elizabeth Eckford had walked into the wolf's lair, and now that they felt she was fair game, the drooling wolves took off after their prey. The hate mongers, who look exactly like other, normal white men and women, took off down the street after the girl."

She would get home eventually. At first, she sat on the edge of the bus stop bench as someone yelled "Drag her over to this tree!" A small group of journalists formed a makeshift barrier between her and the crowd. New York Times reporter Benjamin Fine sat down next to her, put his arm around her and said, "Don't let them see you cry." Later, after being asked if he'd overstepped his professional bounds, Fine replied, "A reporter has to be a human being."

A white woman, Grace Lorch, escorted Eckford onto the bus, but not before she told the crowd that they'd all be ashamed of themselves someday. Eckford was relieved when Lorch got off the bus; her help, though undoubtedly well-intentioned, had only inflamed the hatred of the crowd. (Lorch and her husband would eventually move their family to Canada after facing harassment, job losses, and accusations of being communists for their civil rights activism.)

After exiting the bus, Eckford immediately went to find her mother. She fell into her arms and the two cried together, neither saying a word.

What about the student yelling at Eckford in the photo? Her name was Hazel Bryan—later becoming Hazel Massery. She was the daughter of parents who were unabashed about their racism.

Massery would have a change of heart in the years that followed. She became a follower of the civil rights movement and began to understand how wrong she had been. In 1962 or 1963, she called Eckford to apologize. But she didn't stop there. She left her intolerant church, volunteered with projects to serve underprivileged Black students and single Black mothers, read the works of Cornel West and Shelby Steele and argued about racial issues with her mother.

Eventually, Massery and Eckford realized they had a lot in common as individuals and became friends. They even appeared together on The Oprah Winfrey Show and talked about reconciliation. But the friendship did not last. The rest of the Little Rock Nine had never been fans of the friendship, nor of Massery's appearance at public events about their history. Massery seems to have felt frustrated that Eckford wouldn't absolve her completely of her past racist behavior, and she ultimately cut off ties with her.

Ten years ago, David Margolick, who had interviewed both women multiple times over the years, asked Eckford and Massery to pose together for one last photo. Eckford agreed, but Massery refused.

Both Eckford and Massery are still alive. Eckford celebrated her 80th birthday in October with a small celebration in front of Central High School, with student members of the Civil Rights Memory Project and faculty there to honor her. This is not history from some far distant era. People are alive who saw it happen with their own eyes.

And this isn't even the full scope of the story. The Little Rock Nine spent the school year being brutally harassed even after they were finally allowed into the building. And both Eckford and Massery's stories include many more details, which David Margolick has covered in Vanity Fair and Slate. His storytelling illustrates how the story behind the iconic photo is worse (at the time) and more complex (in the long run) than the simplistic narratives we often hear about the civil rights era and are definitely worth a read.

How does Eckford feel about the photo? She told the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette that she sometimes feels nothing when she sees it and sometimes it bowls her over. But she's never felt good about the photo, nor does she see herself in it the way others do.

"They talk about it as strength," she said, "But I've never considered myself a strong person."

Fair enough. No one should ever have to be strong like that in the first place, especially at 15. May we all remember and learn from this history, and keep working toward a future where racism is truly and fully overcome.


This article originally appeared on 2.5.22

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