People of Colour

I'm a racist, Ms J. I never knew it until yesterday when I was involved, apparently, in a racist incident. It happened at Mimico station, on the platform. Here's what happened:

I was walking along the platform with my conductor, awaiting the arrival of the train I was to operate for the afternoon when I noticed a young woman reading a book. I stopped and we chatted for a bit and I noticed she had a luminous smile with straight, white teeth.

"She sure was pretty, wasn't she?" I said to my mate as we headed for the far end of the platform. "I'm a sucker for straight, white teeth."

We approached an older woman next. I smiled at her and she smiled back. It was a glorious day, Ms J. I was in a fabulous mood.

"Lovely smile," I remarked then turned to my conductor again. "Did you notice the teeth? Nice and white."

Near the end of the platform, was a man. I smiled at him too and he returned a self-conscious grin.

"See that?" I said. "Gorgeous teeth. Straight and white."

We reached the end of the platform then and soon the train arrived. We relieved the incoming crew and proceeded downtown to Union Station where the conductor climbed down from the engine and went to fetch us some coffee. I busied myself with some paper work and suddenly, there was a stranger on the engine with me. It was the same man whose teeth I'd admired at Mimico.

He stuck his hand out and introduced himself. I told him my name and then he began.

"I was really offended by that comment you made at Mimico," he said. "It sounded quite racist. You'd better watch how you talk to people of colour."

I had no idea what this man was talking about, Ms J, but I let him continue. And I noticed for the first time that he was black.

"You can't do that, you know. You can't just walk up to a person of colour and make a comment about white teeth. Luckily, I'm a man of honour and I thought it best to speak to you directly rather than report the incident to your supervisor."

I wasn't sure whether the guy was doing me a favour, or whether he was giving me grief. It felt like the latter so I responded defensively.

"I never intended to make a racist remark, sir," I said. "If you heard it that way, that's your business and nothing to do with me."

"Yeah, well lucky for you I'm a man. I could report this but instead I thought I'd speak to you manno a manno. You've got to watch what you say to people of colour."

People of colour. That was the third time he used that expression. What the hell, Ms J? The guy was black. That's not a colour. Black is not a colour. Red is a colour. Orange and blue and green are colours. Black is a shade. And this guy was black. Quite honestly, I hadn't noticed until he made an issue of it. I wondered why he was so sensitive about his skin pigmentation. Was he ashamed of it? Self-conscious? What's the big deal about dark skin? Do I make an issue of my light skin? Am I a person of non-colour?

"Anyway, I'm going to let this go," he was saying. "You can consider it squashed. But honestly, you have to watch what you say around people of colour."

"OK," I said. "I will."

He left the cab of the locomotive and proceeded down the stairs to his non-coloured collar job and I was left feeling angry and confused.

I really don't think I did anything wrong. I was only commenting on his straight, white teeth. It was he who perverted it into something racist. And I believe he interpreted it that way because he was looking for racism. If you look for something, expect something, you'll probably find it. And he did. Trouble is, he could have reported it and caused me innumerable heartaches at work.

The incident completely ruined my bonny afternoon.

What have I learned from this, Ms J?
Never to talk to 'people of colour'?
That black people are very sensitive?
That I'm a racist bastard who'd better smarten up?

I guess I'd better be more cautious and more sensitive in the future, especially around people of colour.

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