Black While Hooded

 “One of the burdens of being a black male is carrying the heavy weight of other people’s suspicions.” J. Capehart, Washington Post

"I live here! I am Benjamin from the third floor," I screamed as I was beaten down to the floor.


It was Saturday, December 16, 2011, amidst the crowded streets of holiday lights and party goers looking to celebrate the season with friends and family, a dark skinned African-American male was spotted gaining entry into a secure north side condominium complex where the units are estimated to be more than a half million dollars. Residents sleep secure knowing the building is adequately protected by the latest technology and neighbors are ever vigilant in keeping their eyes open for any strange and unusual behavior.

On this weekend night, less than a week away from Christmas the building was full of guests waiting to be rung into the building and residents coming and going unaware of the Black gentleman in the lobby that seemed curiously out of place in this particular building. He was dressed for the weather and wearing a hooded sweatshirt that obscured his face from full view.  On the other hand, with a warm smile and proper greeting, he appeared to be pleasant and courteous enough to be given the benefit of the doubt amongst the expectant guests waiting at the locked security door.

Josh was excited to get his annual holiday bash started and decided to personally go down to the lobby and welcome his guests as opposed to ringing them in via his home telephone which is connected to the state of the art building security system. As he happily approached the transparent glass doors where he recognized the beaming faces of his dearest friends, he immediately noticed the dark faced man hiding in his hood amongst his cheery cheeked friends bearing pretty wrapped packages and poorly disguised bottles of wine and Champaign. Josh knew that his building was a target for burglary and vandalism given the uneven demographics of the neighborhood, especially those areas yet to be properly gentrified by the wave of incoming young urban professionals and latter career execs who used city living to exorcize their mid-life suburban crisis. Josh also knew that not all the members of his waiting party was in the building to celebrate the season.

 

With the stage set and the script already written, Josh meticulously opens the door in a way that allows all of those that belong in the building through the door, but when the apparent stranger tries to enter with the arrogance of a dues paying homeowner, Josh immediately launches into action and confronts the stranger by saying “Not you!” As the stranger attempts to claim residency in the building, Josh confidently replies back “Who the fuck are you!” and acting on his instincts, shoves the perceived interloper in the chest, knocking him down to the ground while his guests gasp in horror and surprise at the aggressive actions of their otherwise mild mannered friend and young father. The look in their eyes communicated how unbelievable this entire scene was which was unfolding quickly, but seemingly in slow motion, before them.

 

So lost in the moment was Josh and his visitors that they almost failed to hear the Black man scream as he was falling “Josh, I live here! I am Benjamin from the third floor.”