I wonder if the woman and the man behind the counter feel the way that I do. I knew that I wasn’t in danger, but still, I couldn’t turn off the fear or the shame. I know I’m not in danger, but he’s fouling the air. As I was stuck in this enclosed space, with the word “nigger” being tossed around, my feelings were roughly what they would be were this man to have defecated on the floor. To me, the very word “nigger” is an act of violence-or rather, I have a hard time believing that the word “nigger” is not either the encouragement and the prelude to violence. I still believe that the word “nigger” is used to dehumanize black people, to suggest that they deserve violence. I was raised to believe that “nigger”-like “kike” or “gook”-is a fighting word. I was raised to believe that word “nigger” must never be uttered out loud. My forehead pinches, and my stomach tenses. The word “nigger” makes me extremely uncomfortable. In the places where I might use the words “guy”, “person” or “dude,” he was using the word “nigger.” One, went down an aisle, out of my sight, began talking loudly on his cell phone.
There was an elderly white man behind the counter, along with a younger black woman. My husband and I were in a hardware store trying to have some keys copies.
