Self-hatred has been a long standing problem in the Black community. We have been conditioned to believe being Black is less than and not as good. Today I felt it first hand I was at my local coffee-house, standing behind this young white couple being served by a middle-aged black woman. She was new, I had only seen her there a few times but had never been served by her. She seemed nice. She was friendly, engaging, almost beaming. After a few minutes the young couple got their coffees, paid and they were on their way.
As I stepped to the front of the line, expecting to be greeted with the same warmth and friendliness, I was instead, greeted with a stony impatient stare. The moment she saw me her whole demeanor changed. She sighed and almost rolled her eyes as I walked up to the counter. She plastered on a fake smile and asked in a bored monotone voice what I wanted. Gone was the happy-to-serve-you attitude. There was no friendly chit-chat, although I tried to no avail.
She looked at me and curtly told me the price of my order then looked past me to the white couple standing behind me as if I had never been there. Her beaming face shining, her voice lifted, and the friendly chit-chat was back in full form. I was an inconvenience; someone she had to serve, not someone she wanted to serve. She shoved my overpriced cup of coffee over to me and before I could pick it up, she was back to skinning and grinning for the hipster white couple behind me.
I felt angry and shamed. I felt like going back in there and telling her something about herself, but I didn’t. Instead, I took my coffee, tipped her a dollar and left wondering why some black people feel the need to ingratiate themselves to white people at the cost of other black people? Read more...
