The Right Approach to Diversity

“Hey! How does it feel to be white today?”

As I exited my office in midtown Manhattan on my way to get lunch, I was promptly peppered with this question.

The question came from a black gentleman holding a leashed pit bull. He was average height, with dreadlocks, casually dressed, and did not appear to be deranged (an all too common reality when a stranger yells at you in Manhattan).

Everything appeared normal about this man, except he was wearing an iridescent face shield, presumably to conceal his identity, and he was recording with a cell phone camera.

I was startled.

I put my head down and walked away, not saying a word to him.

On my walk to lunch and while waiting in line for my food, I couldn’t get this interaction out of my mind. “What did this man want?” I wondered.

Was he trying to start an argument? Get a reaction out of me? Did he genuinely want to know how it felt to be white?

Given the direct, confrontational way he asked the question,along with the face shield and camera, I am inclined to think he was trying to start an argument.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized this man was probably upset.

If he was trying to start an argument, maybe something was bothering him. Even though I didn’t know him, I wanted to see if I could help. I spent my walk back to the office planning my response. Upon my return, he was nowhere to be found, but this is what I wanted to say:

“The color of my skin doesn’t make me feel any particular way, but maybe that’s because I’m white. I’ve also never been anything but white, so I don’t have any point of reference for comparison. Maybe you could tell me, how does it feel to be black today? It seems like something might be bothering you, and I’m interested to know what it is. How about we grab a table and spend a few minutes getting to know each other? But first, could you please take off the glasses? I would like to be able to look you in the eyes while we talk.”

Maybe he was a deranged person and I would’ve been wasting my breath, but I don’t think that was the case.

I think this was a man who was frustrated, upset, maybe even fed up.

It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t do anything to him, and I certainly wasn’t the cause of his anger. But it would’ve been nice if I had the opportunity to talk with him, listen to him, and try to understand the cause of his frustration. Sometimes a person having a bad day just needs a compassionate ear. Sometimes people just need to vent.  

I work with people of all races, religions and ethnicities. I rent my apartments to white, black, and Hispanic people. If you need a place to live, you have money to pay rent, and you respect my property and your neighbors, the color of your skin or the God to whom you pray makes no difference to me.

As a friend and coworker recently said to me,

“I don’t care about the color of your sun tan. I don’t care what equipment you have below your belt or what you do with it at night. All I care about is that you treat people with respect and you do a good job.”

I love this philosophy. It seems simple, but too many of us are still missing the mark.