Dear Lord, this woman is cold. Just like Aunt Fee said. The way she has patronized me, refusing to acknowledge all the years I’ve spent working here, is causing my insides to boil. But I take a deep breath. And I make a conscious decision to keep the lid on, because the pressure in my stomach wants to blow that lid right out the roof of this House. I didn’t want to make this about my skin color, but I know, and she knows, that’s exactly what this is about. She could bend the college-degree rule if she wanted to, and probably would if one of her friends applied for the job, but I can’t modify the color of my skin.
I have a choice. I can file a lawsuit, then spend the next few years fightingit. Lose all the friends I’ve made and bethat person.That black woman who sued Alpha Delta Beta sorority and won. Because I know I have a good chance of winning.
But what then? I actually get to be the House Director? Come home to find all the girls standing out on the porch welcoming me with open arms after I’d sued their sorority? I could never do that. That’s not me. But it’s not going to stop me from letting this woman know she’s no better than I am.
I notice Miss Lilith’s eyes leave mine and glance down to her booties.
I stand up so we’re eye to eye. “If I were the mother of Patrick Willis, the best linebacker in Ole Miss history, or even Beyoncé’s mother, how would you feel about my application then?”
“What?”
“How about if I was kin to Stevie Wonder and I could bring him here to perform at your Grove party? Then would you want me as your House Director?”
She’s flustered when she answers. “Tha… that is irrelevant.”
“This is about the color of my skin, isn’t it, Lilith?”
That silk flower smile fades. I don’t know what’s made her madder: calling her Lilith or calling a spade a spade. She’s up on her tiptoes now, thrusting a finger in my face. “Absolutely not,” she responds with righteous indignation. “It’s in the Alpha Delt bylaws, and I’m going to get—”
“No point in dancing around it,” I say, begging God to keep me calm because I want to point my finger back at her. But I refuse to stoop to her level. So I keep my voice at an even keel. “That’s exactly what this is about.”
“No, it’s not,” she answers, taking three steps toward the door.
I step with her. “If it could be proven that this is about my skin color, you would be in a lot of trouble, Lilith. I know that and you know that.”
She slowly turns back around.
I stare at her and wait for my words to stick, like bugs on flypaper. “But since I love everybody here and since Alpha Delt has been my home and my family for the last twenty-five years, I will not put the people I love in that position.”
I see her shoulders relax, then her tone softens. “Again, the bylaws specifically state that the House Director…”
She’s rambling on and on about the same ol’ thing—heronlydefense. Butinstead of listening to her I listen to my heart, and the more I do the clearer the problem becomes. “This is not your fault.”
That lady’s posture stiffens like a soldier’s. I have her attention now.
“It started with your great-great granddaddy and grandmama and trickled down through all the generations in your family.”
“What are you talking about?” she asks with that same sharp tone.
“Generational racism. It’s like a weed. In one season it can overtake the garden and choke out the beauty. It never stops reseeding itself till somebody makes the choice to pull it out by the root and destroy it once and for all.”
She closes her eyes, then shakes her head like I don’t know what I’m talking about.
“That goes for both sides. Black folks can’t be running around talking trash about white folks. Don’t get me wrong; there’s been plenty of injustice, we have to stand up for what’s right. But if we keep blaming every white man for all our problems, what good does that do? Progress will never happen.”
“Finally you’ve said something that makes sense. If I hear another word about ‘Black Lives Matter’ I’ll throw up. Don’t all lives matter?”
I’m not sure how we moved on to Black Lives Matter, but even so I decide to change my tone. Add some kindness back in. See if I can help her. “May I make a suggestion?”
I notice she’s lightly tapping her foot, but she does answer me. “Sure.”
“You have an awesome opportunity in front of you.”
“How’s that?”
“You could set a beautiful example by showing every one of our well-to-do girls that aqualifiedAfrican American”—I flick a finger at her now—“you know full well I’m qualified—can be the House Director of one of the finest white sororities in the South. You could be the one to show them that it doesn’t have to be because of affirmative action or equal opportunity, but just because I’m the right person for this job.”
I look up at her, thinking she might stop me, but she doesn’t. So I keep on.
