the only thing that i hate more than an arrogant man, is a hypocritical and arrogant man.
i don't know where i got this strong tendency to despise arrogance. it's been with me since i've been a child. there was a man who worked with my dad who i really mistrusted. he was arrogant. he was a drunk. and i really do think he was a bit of a kiddy-diddler. he took too much interest in me as a child. a young child. it creeped me out. one night, he came to "visit" and i distinctly remember my mother shoving me behind her. as if she were trying to shield me from his sight. almost like she wanted to hide me completely. at the same time, she didn't want to seem to be hiding me. it was surreptitious move. a move that told me that this man might be dangerous and certainly not someone to be trusted.
i remember clearly what he wore: tight, transparent white pants and a patterned shirt. i could see his scarlet underwear clearly through his pants. it felt obscene. and ... i know we shouldn't judge people based on what they choose to wear. but ... this particular outfit on this particular man felt in need of judgement. like, the combination of wardrobe and personality was what made it obscene. he was obscene.
i later learned that even whilst he would visit and pretend to be dad's friend, he was schemeing to outst him from his position as managing director. it took him years, but he eventually managed to get him out. i don't recall at this very moment whether dad was asked to resign, whether he chose to retire, or whether he was given no choice but to retire. maybe it was just time for him to retire. i really do not remember the details. but as soon as dad left, this man ... this man that i distinctly remember being drunk, leering at a child, and wearing tight white pants and scarlet underwear ... this man is who ended up as dad's successor.
obscene.
so ... yes ... even as a young young child, i could recognise arrogance and i hated it.
the next time i remember encountering a personality like this man, was when i happened on a politician in a gas station coming home from work. i stopped to get gas and cigarettes. (no judgement ... i smoked like a chimney in those days). i was standing at the register, waiting to pay for my gas and cigarettes, and he waltzed in and elbowed his way in front of me and started to demand attention from the attendant/cashier. to their credit, they eyed him out of the side of their eye and continued to serve me. he wasn't happy with that. he started to talk about himself. boasting almost. both myself and the cashier ignored him. he said something to me and i remember huffing, and turning my back on him, and walking out.
i am not impressed by celebrity status or power. in fact, i am repulsed by it.
it is with this context in mind that i want to talk about how someone whom i looked up to failed me in a spectacular way. this someone has been at the brunt of some particularly hateful antiblackness for years. i've known them for less than 2 years, and i have seen all the bullshit they have to put up with on an almost daily basis. this person has a vision for folks who are not white. a vision i support wholeheartedly. this person is someone i admired for their tenacity and their strength. because i see how white people talk to them and i don't know that i could manage it the way they do.
but this person, very early on, gave me the same kind of vibes as that politician in that gas station. a kind of arrogance. which ... i mean ... when you've been constantly targeted for hate, a kind of arrogance is probably necessary as a defense mechanism. i gave them a lot of grace precisely because of how much bullshit they have had to put up with. i ignored my instinctual feelings of wariness because we do a lot of things to protect ourselves when we're the target of hate and violence.
but then ... this person made a decision that ... while i understand completely their perspective, the choice they made in that situation effectively rendered them unsafe for me ... personally. they became someone i began to steer clear of because ... even though i understand your perspective, that does not mean i have to be comfortable with the choices you make based on that perspective. i have to protect myself too. and so, i disappeared.
and that decision snowballed because when this person began to hurt other people, i was not there to help. i was not there to speak up. i wasn't there to provide support. but ... eventually i learned what was happening and i felt even more unsafe. i chose to just leave the space. i just did not feel like i was going to be heard, and i did not want to get into another conflict with this person who had proven to me once before that my needs, my feelings did not matter to them in the least. and i knew that the way i felt was not going to make any kind of intervention productive. i was going to be emotional. i was going to do more harm than good.
and ... as usual, it is only after the fact that i think of things i should have said.
you see ... nobody is perfect. not even me. but one would hope that when one fucks up, it is our friends that can call us in. and this person cannot hear anyone call them in. their arrogance has made them believe that they are right and we are wrong. that we have nothing of value to teach them. that our concerns, our needs is secondary to his. that it is his perspective that is paramount.
and ... that was bad and not so bad. what made this whole situation a million times worse was that when we all came together in that space, and we talked about conflict resolution strategies, they said none were needed that we were all adults and could talk to each other as such. but when it counted, that meant nothing. and while i am ok to tolerate a certain arrogance, i categorically refuse to tolerate hypocrisy.
and so ... a valuable connection has been severed.
i should feel sad. i should feel like i am missing something vital. but the truth is ... i only feel relieved... which ... says a lot about how healthy that space actually was.
... as with everyone else who has wronged me before ... this person is now no one... nameless, forgotten. when i don't feel safe, i leave. i don't scream. i don't cry. i just disappear. one day, they will realise what they did wrong and hopefully do better. but it is no longer a concern of mine.
onward.