A couple of weeks ago, I was catcalled while walking down Jamestown Road, headphones in, probably thinking about what I was going to eat when I got home to my apartment in Ludwell. I’ve been catcalled before, so I did what I have done every other time some idiot decides to yell “Well how are you doing?” from a moving vehicle. I ignored him. I wasn’t surprised when the result of my silence was yells. But instead of the typical “C’mon baby, don’t you know to speak when you’re spoken to,” what I heard was “F— you n—.”
It sucked and it stung but more importantly it got me thinking about the racism that surrounds me. A friend of mine just posted a Facebook status a few days earlier reminding our peers that saying the “N-word” is not cool when you’re not black. She had heard it uttered around campus, sung drunkenly at parties where Kanye West’s music played on loud speakers, and was understandably upset about what she was experiencing.
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