Managing microaggressions: let’s be better

At track practice last Thursday, it was a 30m testing day. Periodically throughout the fall semester, we’ll do 30m testing as a way to benchmark progress. Got to practice late, and did my trials. Execution-wise, it wasn’t my best work, but it’s a snapshot of where I’m at. I finish my last rep, and then my attention turns to finishing the rest of the workout.

Walking over to my trainers, I glanced up at the windows, hearing the sounds of rain. “Is it raining?” I yelled, and someone responded yes. I slip on my shoes, and decide that I need water. I also might’ve forgotten the amount of reps, but let’s not talk about that. En route to the water fountain, the big garage door opens, and in flows another sports team. So I’m weaving through guys, feeling like Baby Driver, get to the board, commit the workout to memory, and guzzle some water.

This other team had come to practice inside before, but seeing as though it was 5:50, I was going to wait until someone came over to ask me to leave. So as I strapped in for my sled pulls, and saw the team huddle, I figured I was chilling.

Submitting to the craft, I bust out reps, one, two, three, four, not really paying attention. In between reps, I look over and see that it looks like the team is praying. It doesn’t faze me, I’m Muslim, and we pray five times a day, so it’s all love. The handful of my track teammates that are still around are continuing their workout and so I continue mine.

The huddle disperses. I see that some guys are coming inside the track oval, and I prepare to move my sled, and as I do this, I notice that an athlete from the other team is walking towards my direction. I’m thinking, “Did he forget something or like what’s the word?” Anyhow, I turn my gaze away, and feel his presence right in front of me.

“Hey,” I glance up, looking at the source of the voice. “People are praying, it’d be nice if you could have some respect sometimes,” the athlete said, and with that, he turned away. I pause. Sometimes? I don’t even know
you.

“Now who the heck do you think you’re talking to?” The athlete doesn’t face me. “Nah cos what made you think you could speak to me like that?” He pusillanimously slips away, heavy-footed. So now I’m having a whole inner monologue, because what was that? Allah, glorified and exalted he is, gets me to speak to some other guys I know, get his name, and call my head coach, before finishing the rest of the workout.

As I walked up to the Reef, I remembered that Professor Bostrom passed away earlier in the day. Without fail, be it a human being or even roadkill, when someone or something dies around me, it turns into a personal moment to ponder mortality. Within the past five days, four people around me have passed away, and no matter how much it happens, you never get used to it. My normally somewhat outgoing demeanor is replaced by a glazed- out phantom, floating to my different engagements, but not really there. There’s nothing that makes me better than others, so why do I get certain blessings that others don’t have? Why me? Am I really making the most of my opportunities here within this ivory tower?

I share this to spotlight that how I process death might not be how you process death, might not be how the athlete processes death. In his mind, he might’ve felt like I wronged him. He might’ve been trying to focus and be present with the prayer, but the sounds of the weights clamoring behind me made it hard for him to focus, and he saw me as the source. I know when people are speaking around me while I’m praying, sometimes it can be hard to reach that state of connection with the Creator, the Sustainer.

Perhaps he felt like I should’ve gotten the memo that they were praying for the Professor, and I should’ve stopped doing what I was doing in order to let them have that space. His “Minnesota-nice” expression of his distaste makes a lot more sense thinking of it that way. But see, that’s where you start to miss me.

Firstly, the Spectrum isn’t formally a space for prayer. It was raining but there is always a chance that someone else is using a space you didn’t reserve, especially members of the track team, training in the track facility, during our practice time. It’s unrealistic to assume people will bend to your will, just on the whim of you thinking it. You don’t have Conqueror’s Haki, my brother. I don’t pray in the Spectrum for that reason. Perhaps you could’ve taken it up with Coach to move to a spot with less ambient noise, if it was that near and dear to you.

But something tells me it wasn’t the fact that people were making noise. Rather that I had the audacity to make noise. If you couldn’t tell already by the beautiful photo, I’m a young Black man, and in my efforts to find out who the athlete was, I was informed that he called someone the n-word in the past.

So looking at things from that vantage point, I can’t help but wonder if this was a power trip? My teammates were working out too, but you gravitated towards the Black man who you saw. You couldn’t even
face me when I spoke to you either.

Mtchew!

From up here, it looks like you had an opportunity to belittle a Black man, under the shawl of feeling like your prayer was disrespected, and you seized it. Islam has taught me to have sabr, or patience. For example, when someone passes away, we are invited to remember that all living things return to Allah, and Allah doesn’t burden a soul with more than which it is capable. So although we should grieve, let ourselves cry and do what we need, it shouldn’t be excessive, like hitting ourselves or crashing out.

Not everyone plays by those rules, I get it, but admittedly it took me out of my element to see someone who claims to be mad about a prayer move so unchristlike. Jesus, peace and blessings be upon him, had a whole lot of love and patience, and so if you really want to move like him, shouldn’t you embody that too? Or do you only act Christlike to those who you deem worthy? Is that really Christlike then?

As you formulated your words and walked over to me, you had many opportunities to stop yourself and appraise where exactly your thoughts were stemming from, for “Those who guard their mouths and their tongues keep themselves from calamity.” (Proverbs 21:23 NIV) Am I moving from a place of love, or am I allowing my biases to impede my better judgement?

You could’ve assumed the best of your brother, and invited me to the prayer, if you felt so inclined. You could’ve spoken to all of my teammates who were there, instead of singling me out. You could’ve looked at me when I was voicing my frustration with how you handled it, if you felt you had been misunderstood.

We’re all generally twenty-something, we no longer have the excuse of our upbringing as a justification for our ignorance. For the rest of our lives, it’s our duty to do the work of constantly processing our upbringings, and all the worldviews, beliefs, customs that come with them, trying to sort out the aspects that fit who we are and who we want to be, and doing away with ones that don’t fit in that, while picking up new ones along the way.

We owe that to those who came before, to make good on the opportunity they gave us, and also to those who will come after, and leave a better world for them to inherit. I pray that microaggressions aren’t something you want to keep.

My brother, I forgive you but let’s be better. Assalamu alaikum.