“Mami, a woman just followed me,” my 12-year-old daughter rushed over to tell me in a breathless voice.
“She left the register to ask if she could help me with something. I thanked her and told her I was just looking at the sweaters and scarves. Did I do something wrong?”
My face flushed hot.
I was furious
Did she expect me to be grateful?
Did she think a 10% discount would erase the trauma of being singled out because of the color of your skin color and the texture of your hair?
I wanted to tell her that my daughter attends one of the top schools in New York City and is an excellent student. I wanted to remind her of the civil uprising that was still happening, even if her social media feed didn’t reflect it. Did she even know George Floyd or Breonna Taylor’s name? Did she care that people of color are disproportionately impacted by voter suppression?
As we were walking home, I asked my daughter if she had ever been racially profiled before. This was clearly the first time I had heard of it. She admitted that she had only read about racial profiling in a YA book; she had never experienced it firsthand. I told her that when I was younger, my friends and I were kicked out of stores in Queens for simply speaking Spanish. Her father has been stopped what seems like countless times for driving-while-Black.
I complimented Isa for handling herself with such composure, but also gave her permission to not be so polite in the future
“You can say, ‘Why are you following me and not the white customers?’ or ‘Instead of harassing me, maybe try harassing some white people?’ Stand up for yourself and call the person out for being racist!”
As a former criminal defense attorney, one of the eight founding members of the Bronx Defenders, I know all too well what happens if a person of color gets too sassy. There’s always a fine line between being vocal and demanding respect and saying something that is perceived as “too aggressive” or “hostile.” I didn’t want her to kowtow to the people in power, but I also didn’t want her life to be in jeopardy.
I wish there was something her father and I could do that would guarantee her safety, but there isn’t
Since this incident, Isa has been reluctant to visit museums or large stores for fear of being followed or that store clerks might think she’s stealing. She’s asked me or her father to be by her side so she’s seen as more credible.
Unfortunately, like all people of color, Isa has to be prepared to face this kind of judgment and discrimination, to live in a racist world, where racial profiling is the norm, not the exception. In the past few months, she’s successfully ventured out shopping on her own. I just hope she never accepts the 10% discount. I hope she knows she’s worth much more. She is worth the dignity and freedom to browse sweaters and scarves in a store without being questioned.
