It was one of those lazy Sunday mornings and my husband and I meandered home down the street towards our home, stomachs filled with some delicious brunch we’d just eaten.
The sun shone bright against the blue sky making me squint as we walked by looking at the colorful Victorian houses, the boxy 70’s homes, and sporadic full modern remodels, of our San Francisco neighborhood.
A woman walking her dark curly haired poodle approached. We moved aside to let her pass, but she came straight towards my husband.
“Your hair!” She exclaimed at him, as we finished her sentence in our heads , “..... is amazing! ….is so cool! …..is the best” My husband’s dark thick tight curls often receive commentary out in the world. As an Eritrean/Italian, who often finds himself in White spaces, he (and now I) are used to the commentary.
But she veered off script, “Your HAIR….”
“......is just like my dog’s! How do you wash it? What shampoo do you use? How do you care for it? I’m at my wits end, I can’t find anything that works well for him!”
My eyes bulged in disbelief, I stared at the concrete sidewalk in front of me, afraid that if I turned to look at her face, the anger would boil up and I’d want to punch her in the face. I felt activated and simultaneously paralyzed, holding my arms stiff, my jaw clenched, barely breathing.
Would my husband appreciate the words that I would come spilling out of my mouth at this woman if I opened my mouth. Did he want me to stay out of it? Did he want me to step in? I didn’t know what to do. I kept my mouth shut.
This was 12 years ago now, but I still feel sick to my stomach thinking about the heavy air lingering in the air between us after she finally passed by.
I could sit here and wrap up this story with a cute little bow and tell you that it was a great learning lesson and during the inevitable next microaggression, (is micro the right word?!) I knew exactly what to do and say, and I stepped right in with a cool grace that avenged my partner.
I could also end the email here, so you wouldn’t also know that I, too, have made cringey comments- once about a Black woman’s hair- that later made me want to crawl into a hole- (but we’re acquaintances! And I told her I liked her new style! And I had the best of intentions - as no doubt, did the dog owner).
We screw up. This is the hardest thing about building a partnership or any relationship across difference- knowing that the screw ups harm someone we hold dear, and sear into wounds the world opens again and again.
So what to do?
Here are some things I tried in the past:
1) Linger in the guilt of having caused harm and then move towards avoidance or numbness which are far easier to bare.
2) DON’T TELL anyone you are imperfect, don’t talk about times you’ve messed up, learn to say the right things and no one will figure you out.
3) Don’t talk about tricky subjects, talk about the weather, avoid conversations that might be complicated or hard.
Here’s how that worked out for me: not well.
My partnership has brought a richness to my life, beyond what I ever imagined. It has pushed me to evolve in ways I could never have foreseen 2 decades ago when we first met.
One simple thing I started doing awhile back that I have found immensely helpful, is this: when I don’t know what to do or have stuck my foot in my mouth and want to crawl in a hole, I repeat a simple statement over and over in my head. It reminds me that this is a lifelong, worthwhile, journey of evolution- filled with connection and community. It reminds me to keep doing the work, to apologize, to do better, to read, and listen, and look in the mirror at my own stuff. It reminds me it’s worth it.
Show up and keep showing up. Does this resonate? What tools have you found useful? What does showing up mean to you? I love hearing your insights and reflections.
Take good care,
Jen
P.s. Here’s a resource if you want to understand more about the hair conversation referenced in this story.
Brene Brown says 'I'm not here to be right, I'm here to learn.' As in don't double down on mistakes like this because of shame, listen to the other person and learn from them. It means always being vulnerable and curious, and leaving your ego at the door. I try to remember Brene's words in situations like this.
This is so beautiful and vulnerable, thank you for sharing it.