TL;DR Obnoxious (possibly?) racist encounter in our hood

A few mornings ago Flora needed some focused work time, so I chose to take Isla for a short walk in the baby carrier, hoping she would fall asleep. Being the little trooper that she is, she nods off within two blocks from home and father-in-waiting that I am, I raise my left hand to keep her head from bobbing while my right one retains a needlessly instinctual cradle.

It's at this point that a man walking his black & white dog of indeterminable breed comes into view. Lanky and moustached with an oiled ponytail that makes him look like a poor man's Sam Elliott (the actor in so many of the Westerns watched during my Trinidadian childhood) I've the delayed realization that his moustache is visible because he's NOT WEARING A MASK...

He gestures and I expect he’s going to ask for directions but instead says “Could you please move the phone away from THE BABY?”

He’s referring to the 7 year old Android that’s still in my hand after reaching to keep Isla’s sleeping head up but behind mask & sunglasses he can’t see my incredulous expression. “Move the phone? What? THE BABY?” I think to myself but perhaps I misunderstood….

“Could you please move the phone away from THE BABY?” he say’s again, verbatim but this time a little slower… as if I’m stupid… and he keeps referring to Isla as THE BABY… I still don’t say anything but cock my head to the side like the RCA dog but instead of backing off he gets on his vintage, artisanal, organically responsible, non GMO, conflict-free soapbox

“You see, it’s because of all of the radiation around us… and WE wouldn’t want THE BABY (not my daughter) getting any more irradiated.”

The lack of sleep explains the 20 second delay to realize that he’s been white-splaining the entire time and why he believed he had the authority to randomly question my parental competence. He probably thinks I’m one of the “docile, approachable ones” because I’m wearing a baby carrier and not “on the corner maintaining.” Maybe three generations back I’d have endured the indignity of carrying his art supplies as he did oil paintings of the countryside but not today…

I look Ned Flanders straight in the eyes and realizing the mask makes me sound somewhat like Tom Hardy’s Bane say “Interesting you should bring that up seeing as how your people have been irradiating mine for the last 400 years”…

He starts to blubber and suddenly has to resume his walk and I turn to do the same but seeing as this has not been an equitable exchange (did you see what I just did) I say “The unmitigated gall of this man!”

Pricked by his privilege, he starts walking back to argue whereupon I say ‘Don’t worry, don’t worry,” while raising both arms in the air. “See, I’ve moved the phone away from THE BABY.”

The symbolism isn’t lost on him as he stops befuddled and before he’s re-inspired, I quip “Thank you. Thank YOU. Now do have a good day… you and your little dog too." (I couldn’t resist the Wizard of Oz reference) before turning to resume our walk.

As I establish increasing distance from the man who is most likely our neighbor, I wonder how he will recount our encounter to his friends, how differently the outcome might have been had a police cruiser happened upon a masked black man with THE BABY talking back to a gentleman dog-walker, how some people would be quick to say “So you think he came up to you because you’re black?! I don’t see why you’re making this about race. ” or “The guy clearly has problems but why’d you entertain him, why didn’t you just walk away?”

Mulling as we walk, an older black man, broad shouldered and clearly strong but walking slowly with a cane comes into view. As we get closer he smiles and says “Good morning and how old is the little one?”

“Six months on Monday.”

“Congratulations… Boy or girl?

“Girl.” I say smiling behind the mask.

“Well allllright. You two stay good now” before continuing on his way. As we head home to Flora and two indifferent cats, the clarity of our mission is clear: amidst the museums, three thousand restaurants and public gardens, we will raise Isla with God’s help to prepare her for a Brooklyn life, one where prejudice and sunshine can both present themselves within the span of a few blocks on a 10-minute walk at 11 AM.