Work and a Civics Lesson

So I had my first week-long business trip since Abby was born. Three nights in Boston, 2 in Durham, for 2 different conferences and to teach. I'm now sitting in the Charlotte airport watching the drizzle that has delayed my flight home. I'm tired, but all is well.

A very disappointing event happened at my conference in Boston. We were holding a 300 person conference in a very posh and fancy hotel on the Harbor. My hotel room was gorgeous - huge windows, a separate sitting room, huge bath and all comped for me by the org I'm on the board of. Felt kind of like a vacation just having the first night there to myself!

But on the second day of the conference, exactly one week after our nation elected our first African American president, racism reared its ugly head. We had invited a young black woman from the Bronx to be our keynote speaker. Her name is Majora. She's the recipient of a MacArthur genius grant and is a social entrepreneur who has transformed the South Bronx, by raising funds to turn dumps with water views into huge, green public parks and has created "green jobs" for thousands of people in her community. Work that Obama has promised to continue and extend in his America Serves plan.

Anyway, Majora had taken a red eye from San Francisco to Boston to be at our event, and arriving at the hotel, got a huge hug from our Executive Director, who invited her to use her hotel room to freshen up and gave her the keycard to her room. Majora was excited about the prospect of a shower and getting to do some yoga before coming downstairs to speak to us all. But when she got to her room, the housekeeper was there cleaning. Majora went in but the housekeeper looked her up and down and was skeptical. So she used her cell to call another person on our staff ( a young white man) who came up and said, yes, don't worry, she's our keynote speaker. He left, the housekeeper left and Majora got in the shower. When she got out and was stretching on the floor - sharp knock on the door - it was hotel security, insisting that she come with them.

She told us all this at the beginning of her speech, her voice cracking, her face filled with pain. Her usually jubilant voice got very low and gravelly as she told us that unfortunately, the color of her skin was still sufficient for staff of a large hotel to believe she was a criminal. (She didn't mention but it was clear that it didn't matter to this maid that she was well dressed, carried a business case, and had a cell phone.) The room, filled with mostly white men and women in suits, fell entirely silent. She then said, well, I didn't get to finish my yoga today so I'm going to ask you to help me do it now (this woman knows how to loosen up a room!). She asked us to stand, to wiggle our hands over our heads, to face our neighbors, and to then, give them a hug. I was in the back of the room but faced my closest neighbor and she and I both had tears in our eyes. I said - Majora is the one who needs a hug! I looked over and she was standing alone at the podium. I disentangled myself, wound my way through the crowd and went up to her, and said, YOU need a hug! She came down so gratefully and gave me the most heartfelt hug I have had in a very long time. I told her how sorry I was and my face flooded with tears. She smiled, got back up and I went back to my seat a blubbering mess, all of my colleagues nodding at me, and listened, riveted, as she proceeded to give a fabulous, passionate, kick-ass speech.

I had a very productive week, full of meaty conversations, getting new work leads, getting lots of work done, seeing old friends and teaching a good class, but honestly, hugging that woman at that particular moment felt like the most meaningful thing I did all week.

More info on her is here.