Exhibit A: This weekend I've been at a conference in Minnesota. Great networking, despite the abundance of white reformists (ie: "we want free broadband!...racism? what?"). I had my ups and down, but today was actually good. Good people, connections, panels, presentations. It was hella white, but I had hope, like: "we must work with our white ally's. Even if some can be slightly obnoxious at times."
And then I met Mr. White World Traveler. In less than five minutes of already awkward, forced conversation, he mentioned: he's been to Mexico City four times, loves East African food and has a very close relationship with a Black woman at Trinity Church of Christ in Chicago.
Conversation went well. He liked San Francisco, he said. Road tripped it from Pennsylvania to California in his youth. Has a Black son. Blah, Blah.
Then he goes, " You have an interesting forehead."
Me: "Excuse me?"
White Man: "It's very profound, are you from Eastern Africa?"
WM: "Where are your parents from?"
WM: "They're both African American?"
WM: "Well, you never know. You may have some in your lineage."
Me: ::rolls eyes::
WM: "Well two years ago my wife and I were
WM: Looks at me, waiting for a "you're so enlightened!" look.
Me: "So are you saying that my forehead is beautiful?"
WM: ::mumble, mumble:: "well if you want me to, then yeah."
*Apparently, white people don't have ethnicities.
** What the fuck did this have to do with my forehead??"