Eve Chambers,
New Orleans, LA
I am a bartender in the New Orleans French Quarter, and I love to have conversation. To chit chat with my customers while doing other tasks, asking questions and learning about them in that moment. But what if something is offered unprovoked? Like a white female customer telling me in one run-on sentence, “My husband would love this place. He’s Black and he loves music.”. Or her friend continuously complaining about how it must be the day to hate white women because one crackhead called her an inappropriate name. Over and over again, the microaggressions, the slight comments, the looks, and disrespect are handed to me, and I have it better than most. But my attitude and smile create an open demeanor for white people to open their mouths with hypocrisy, criticism, and distaste. I am still a Black woman. Though I may smile while I work do not think you are excluded from my judgment. I live off of tips. This is my modern-day slavery. And yet you judge others while you sit on a pedestal. Your comments are racist, and what you hold back is deep-rooted homophobia. I’ve only known you briefly. I am not your Black therapist, and I sure as hell ain’t your friend.
– Dillard University Student
