This is what Stan posted on his Facebook page last night...
In the performance of my job, I often receive demeaning remarks from building security guards that cannot fathom I am authorized to access the places I tell them I need to go. Today was one for the record books. I am one of 3-people at the security station waiting for a building pass to access the elevators. Coincidently, all 3-of us were going to the same place; we are dressed similarly, and were carrying backpacks (we are all project managers going to the same project meeting). After handing my identification to a Latino security guard, while he was preparing my building pass, a female security guard walked over to the counter and in a low mumble asks me “are you trying to make a food delivery?” Not being sure I heard what she said, I said “excuse me, will you repeat your question.” As my two colleagues walked away, the female guard said in louder, clearer voice “are you here to make a food delivery?” Maybe the puzzled look on my face caused her to follow-up with “you’re wearing a backpack, so I thought you were delivering food.” For a second I thought about asking her why she did not ask my colleagues if they were delivering food. Then I saw the look the Latino guard gave her as he handed me my building pass, so I simply said “no, I am not delivering food, I am a project manager here for a meeting.”
I do not believe I am too good to deliver food. Nor do I believe delivering food is a demeaning job. I just wonder what it is about me that made me look like a delivery person to this security guard, when my two colleagues did not. Could it have been the difference in the color of our skin? Or maybe she sees lots of food being delivered in monogrammed leather Tumi backpacks.
I have two stories that come to mind in this same vein. One night after the show Stan & I were going to share a cab. He got out to the street first and tried to hail one. Nobody stopped. He was dressed well (as he always is), and I was dressed like a slob (like I always am). After five or six empty cabs went by, I said "What's the deal here? Nobody's stopping." He responded: "It's because I'm black". "Sure," I said. "Give me a break. Watch they won't stop for me either." He got out of view of the taxis, and I walked out, and stuck my hand up. The first cab stopped.
The other story happened when we went to a club called the Baja Beach Club (I think...it was something like that). They wouldn't let Stan in because his shirt didn't have a collar. So, we walked around the corner, and Jim Wiser (who was also with us) traded shirts with Stan. They let Stan in this time...but they also let in Wiser, wearing the exact same shirt that Stan was rejected for wearing.
None of these stories are exactly tragic--I only post them here because I am so sick of hearing that everyone is treated the same way in this country. Yes, Stan is successful. He's a project manager. That doesn't prove we all have the same opportunities. He had to work harder every step of the way to achieve that...and I mean every single step. Even in the most trivial situation. Even now, when he's already successful. That's what is meant by white priviledge. To deny it's existence is to stick your head in the sand.
