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Wednesday
26 September 2001Now we have to pack again. Now we have to brave the airports again. We haven't readjusted to this time zone, so it is probably no loss to switch to another one.
Matthew and I are headed to Indianapolis tomorrow to see the Formula 1 race there. We will be joined by three of his former roommates, and one of their girlfriends. It will be an experience, I have no doubt...
Matthew said he didn't mind being searched at the airport. "I must fit their profile..." Dark skin, clean shaven, male. His co-worker of Middle Easter decent was a little less forgiving about being detained at the Paris airport. I would be pissed. I know that when I interact with people they make all sorts of assumptions based on how I look. Human beings are able to survive in this wourld by visually identifying, recognizing, and categorizing what they encounter. Sometimes people's assumptions amuse me. I like the "But you're a white girl" look I get when I break into rap or they way I was treated at my first computer job. I would either be ignored in favor of the client taking to my male co-worker, or I would get the "you're a petite young woman, so you won't be able to help me" look, which would swiftly be replaced by surprise as I bared my nerdy underbelly.
I'm know I've recounted this story before, but it left such a striking impression on me. One, in high school, I was out at dinner with a friend of mine. She was looking around and I asked what she was looking for. She said she was seeing if there were any other Black people there. This launched a discussion in which she stated that she thought of herself first as Black and second as Jewish. When I looked around the restaurant, I was checking for cute guys. I think of myself first as female and second as petite. Being Jewish and White are so far down on the list of how I think of myself as to defy mentioning. Odd.
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