Traveling While Black: Micro-aggressions and the Importance of Maintaining Composure

Source: R1 Digital / Reach Media / R1 Digital / Reach Media

Being a Black woman and a gospel singer means blessings in abundance, but also a constant undercurrent of patience-testing moments. Take flying, for instance. First class is a perk that comes with the territory, but it doesn’t shield you from micro-aggressions.

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There I am, boarding with group one, and I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten stares like I don’t belong. It’s like a silent question hangs in the air – “First class? Really?” It’s frustrating, a niggling reminder that even in supposedly progressive spaces, assumptions linger. Then there are the times people literally question your presence. “Is that your seat?” after I’ve settled in with my ticket? It takes every ounce of restraint not to get sarcastic, like, “Ma’am, I can’t read and apparently first class is a mystery to me!”

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Even the flight attendants can be oblivious. The other day, everyone around me was getting offered drinks and snacks, while I was treated like I was invisible. “Lord, still?” I thought, a wave of heartbreak washing over me. It’s a constant battle, this urge to react with anger. “I’m not an angry Black woman,” I remind myself. I know there’s ignorance, racism woven into the fabric of society. People see me and make assumptions.

Now, I’m about to fly with my kids, and the worry intensifies. What if they experience the same microaggressions? The last thing I want is for them to end up on the news because some ignorant soul decided to make a scene. We, as Black people, deal with this all the time. The dismissive looks in stores, the “helpful” directions to the hair care aisle when you weren’t even looking. The restaurants that low-key assume you can’t afford a decent meal.

These situations can test your spirit, make you want to lash out. But as a believer, I know that can’t be the answer. We can’t fight fire with fire. So, I pray. Pray for myself, for my family, for us all. The devil will be a devil, but I can choose how I walk through these situations. Because the truth is, they’ll reap what they sow. There’s no need for me to stoop to their level. I’ll keep my head held high, keep doing what I’m doing.

This is my struggle, my prayer. And maybe, just maybe, by sharing it, we can all move a little closer to understanding and a little further from the anger that divides us.

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