sneakers.

12/06/07
there's a guy i work with the the cross who i really get a kick out of talking to. honestly, when he's at the front desk in the morning, i know i'm in for a smile at least. ty and i started our day off this morning discussing the pleasantries of interpersonal relationships, from the friendly hello to the intimate physical warmth. somehow, this led into a discussion about race relations and economic class.

ty is a black man raised on the southside of chicago, so he has a bit of knowledge about rough times. we talk about our pasts as angry black youth openly, and with the miraculous distance of affored hindsight. it's nice to hear the truth of it without any filters, no one to block the exchange based on attempts to "protect me" from that big bad world. ty knows that big bad world tossed me around, too, whether folks want to aknowledge it or not.

a little later, ty swung by my office to ask about some shoes he was looking at for his mom. we rapped a while, as shoes are a very accessible conversation for many folks, namely minorities. we talked about the functionality of specific sneakers; weaknesses we've identified in particular brands, the dependability in our favorites. soon enough though, we were talking about why people spend money on these things (and gadgets and cars and blah blah blah) instead of investing in their communities. we talked about gangbangers and petty criminals and crackheads. we talked about my father, who happened to be all three at one point or another.

something specific that i extracted from the conversation with ty was in regards to the visibility of "poor folks" (the oppressed in ally speak) in this world. we live in a time where people flatly ignore the problems facing a large chunk of people, so long as they are comfortable.

when ty walks home at night through the marquette campus, he said a lot of people immediately cross the street with the assumption that he is going to ask for money, or worse, engage them. occasionally, they would say hello, but more often than not, he could sense that they were afraid of him.

for him, there is the constant reality of fear; because he doesn't look like your average marquette student, ty is considered a threat. in reality, ty is a giving person who is more than willing to hear you out, let you do what you need to do and smile in spite of your attitude. so, to avoid making anyone uncomfortable, ty started crossing the street. he said, when you get to be my age, the battle isn't worth it.

but i say, what is the battle? i pay taxes, so i pay for side walks. my rights aren't based on the color of my skin, how much money i have (or don't have), or my mental capacity; my rights are grounded in the pure fact that i am a member of this society.

that's right. it's not a battle, it's an assertion of my existence. my sneakers and i have some sidewalks to claim.