This summer I had the privilege and blessing to be able to travel outside of a country where hate and racial oppression are higher on the agenda than healthcare and equal rights. Until the recent Supreme Court decision that finally gave LGBT citizens rights to marry the good ole United States has done little to advance human rights or rights of its citizens. My view of the world as a black male consisted of seeing white as the enemy and the last source for help in any given situation for fear of aggression or unwarranted fear. My conditioning by years of media highlighted murders of black men and Hollywood films where my people die first have withered my view of the world to one that was less than optimistic. Particularly in terms of interactions with white citizens. This lack of optimism however, has been turned upside down with my travels to Amsterdam.
A place known for its liberal views and marijuana-friendly coffee shops has helped to dispel the myths about culture and racism that America has previously imprinted on my psyche. The very atmosphere of Amsterdam was unlike any I have experience even in the most tolerant of suburban areas in and around the Chicago area. The biggest difference for me as a black male was the sense that for the first time in my life my blackness did not label a threat or me as aggressive. To the average black man born into poverty and brought up in low-income housing projects this perception was one that we commonly dreamt about. Or one that we thought was reserved for the millionaires or basketball players with the leaping ability of kangaroos or any strong-legged creature.
One may wonder how I was able to notice this stunning and startling difference. The answer is very simple. By looking at the experiences of dealing with unknown white people in my country I have gotten it is easy to notice the difference. From the time where a white female crossed the street in a rush in broad daylight at my approach or the time I was almost peppered sprayed for walking to fast into a crowd of white women. My experiences with unknown white citizens have been more than traumatic and even far more than the common micro aggressions that I receive at the university level. My first moments in the country consisted of me being lost late at night and having to ask for directions from a white citizen. This citizen whose name I did not care to ask for showed no signs of fear or apprehension when I approached. In fact I was offered to a cup of coffee and directions to the nearest place with a telephone and map. For a moment I wondered if this was just a once in a lifetime experience. But like most travelers I was soon lost again and had to ask for directions again. This time I was not offered the cup of coffee by the white citizen but the same level of compassion and sincerity as the first was still there.
Contrary to the hate filled looks or fearful eyes that a six-foot tall black male would have gotten in my country this person’s sincerity was apparent from the beginning. To the average mind it would be easy to contend that this would have happened to any other person. But looking at the state of my country where a black woman was shot and killed for knocking at someone’s door late at night in search of directions it is easy to see the difference from my perspective. The fact that I even had the courage to ask a white person for directions in another country late at night goes to show the amount of comfort and ease that I felt in a country completely foreign to my own. It is hard to understand why I felt a different level of ease or lack of tension in this place. But my street smarts has taught me to trust my gut feeling and this same feeling has kept me alive in a city where the murder rate outnumbered the amount of troops lost in a year of war.
My time in Amsterdam was great and filled with memories of people who only cared about my careless biking and constant confusion about streets names that I couldn’t pronounce. These same moments and treatment would be virtually impossible for a black man in a country that his people built and where he called home for most of his life. This leaves a lot of questions as to why my country continues to breed racism and fear about the black male identity. Maybe it is the lack of Fox News correspondents comparing us to thugs and apes. Or maybe it is the lack of police brutality and aggressive “War on Drugs” that unfairly targets people of color. Either way my time in Amsterdam has shown me a world where my blackness doesn’t hinder me or make me a target. This has given me hope for my country but also has saddened me because I cannot carry this same feeling to my own land of the free and home of the brave.
