The “-isms” of Experience: Here’s What Happened When I Called The Cops On The Bagel Guy

He went on to tell me, Of course, you’re free to do whatever you want, but I would definitely recommend that you find a new bagel shop. 

“I get my hair done in the salon next door.”

You’ll need to find a new hair salon. 

I thought for a minute. I thought about how ridiculous this all was. About how now not only does my life have to be disrupted, about how I have to make all these adjustments in MY behavior, but also about how not one but two women will lose business (the salon owner AND my stylist) all because one white guy can’t control what’s in his pants.

This is patriarchy. This is institutionalized sexism. This is about how an authority, a person in power, excused the bad behavior of a man and put the responsibility of his bad behavior on where I — the victim — went. And not only was I affected, but there was a financial impact on two other women because of this sexism.

This is racism. When an officer comes to a situation with assumptions about guilt and innocence based on racial identity — this is a power structure that can prove deadly. This is a power system that has proven deadly time and time again for many, many, many people of color.

Assumptions and misplaced blame.  All to keep the white male safe, comfortable, and let’s not forget — satiated.

I filed the yellow card and the police went to speak with Dan. He never came to my house again, and I never went to the bagel store again. But there was no way in hell I was ever going to give him so much power over me as to determine where I would or wouldn’t get my hair done.

I went back to my salon when the time came. I asked Michael to come with me, and I parked my car as far away from the Bagel shop as possible and went into the salon as quickly as I could. One day, as I sat in my stylist’s chair in front of the big plate-glass window, Dan walked past with a bag of garbage and saw me. He stood outside the window and stared at me until my stylist moved between us, blocking his view.

Another time, Michael and I pulled into the lot and the only spot we could find was right in front of his store, and he and Sally were standing in the door. They saw us. Sally looked at Dan and said loudly, “Hey, that’s Kerry!” She seemed really confused, and surprised, to see me. Dan had a pained look on his face and walked into the store, his wife following and pelting him with questions.

I would have loved to have been a fly on THAT sticky wall.

Although this happened years ago, I still get angry when I think about it. More importantly, the headlines are proving that nothing much has changed, and its impacting much more important cases than mine. I hear that Dan and Sally sold the bagel store years ago; I’ve moved away and have a different hair salon, and I don’t even eat bagels all that much anymore — that whole bread and gluten thing, you know.

But like the Bible says, a little bad yeast can ruin the whole batch. And a little –ism (take your pick of which brand — sexism, racism, whatever) goes a long way to promote injustice in the world — and in many instances, in a split second.

It’s my love for Jesus that makes me care about social justice issues, but it’s my own experience with them that makes me realize just how true, and real, and horrible they are. As a white American woman, I am pretty close to the top of the privilege heap. If I’d been a black woman making that same complaint, I doubt very much I would have even gotten the option of a yellow card. In fact, I shudder to think of what might have happened.

Awakening to our own privilege and how that privilege operates in the world isn’t always comfortable. But if we’re going to love the world like Jesus, I think we need to be just as subversive as he was.  And that means calling out the status quo.

Although I was not yet well versed in social justice then as I am now, I did tell that cop that I was pissed. I told him it wasn’t right that I had to make all the adjustments. And I’m proud that I didn’t let Dan stop me from getting my haid done wherever the hell I wanted to.

But this story could so easily happen today, and we need to speak out against this kind of crap when we see it. So trust me — you’ll be seeing more of this stuff from me. Regardless of who becomes president. Regardless of whether it makes people uncomfortable.

Jesus came here to do a lot of things, after all. But I don’t think our comfort was one of his priorities. And I’m pretty sure he’d smash the status quo to bits.

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