One day a long time ago, when I worked on the National Mall, I was blessed to have the experience of being just a pale dot, a solitary young white woman, in a virtual sea of Black men–simply by virtue of stepping out of my office building for lunch in the middle of the Million Man March.

I was nervous only that someone might scorn me (even with a sideways glance) for being so out of place. But there was only one of me, and I was met only with friendliness as I gently navigated my way through the crowd. In fact, the one and only notable thing about that day, for me, was just how relaxed, how at ease, how comfortable everyone clearly was.

At first I simply found that reassuring–but then, at some point in that journey across the Mall, it became soul-stopping…as I realized that the only reason that their comfort level was notable was that I had very rarely experienced Black men permitted, permitting themselves, to be so completely at ease, particularly in public spaces. Continue reading →