My Educated Young Folk. Ya'll Know Betta.

Once again, my people have embarrassed me.

I have worked with “at risk” teens for a number of years. The type of youth that come from broken homes. The kids you always hear about on the news. You know those kids. The ones that are always portrayed as dumb and violent. Their parents are characterized as sex happy mothers and the fathers are irresponsible sperm donors.

These are your uneducated, unmonied folk. Most Americans cringe when they see them in public or on the news. They will never be on the Cosby Show reunion.

They do have one thing I must commend them on, however. They have a respect for folk who extend the same to them.

This weekend, working at my hotel, I ran into the other Black folk.

These are the good looking, educated, somewhat articulate ones. They wear the right clothes and spend the first Fridays of most months crowded in the wanna be booj-wah bars drinking cocktails that went out of style a decade ago. They belong to the right churches, many here frequenting Trinity United Church of Christ until #44 said their pastor was not such a nice guy. They act as if they run the world, though in my experience, many hold jobs where they have no real authority and live far beyond their means. They belong to the right organizations and only want to socialize with other Black folk they feel are “on their level.” They have the right haircuts and wear designer sunglasses that cost more than my car note. In addition to being close-minded, they are often fakes, a few years out of the same neighborhoods they now avoid. They are not too proud, however, to accept cash from relatives still living below the Buppie line to finance their social lives and sometimes pay their rent.

A group of these folk were in my hotel this weekend for a wedding. Why such titans of industry chose a medium sized limited service hotel in the boonies over the five stars downtown boggles my mind. These folk were rude, condescending and phony. From the time they arrived, they acted as if they were going to buy the hotel if their unreasonable requests were not honored. For the record, more than a few had their credit cards declined and asked to settle up in cash on their exit.

Sunday morning, two young women, wearing the paraphernalia of an organization that I greatly admire, confronted me at the desk.

“Who do we see about a discount?”

“Management, ma’am.”

“OK. Get them here.”

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, the general manager is not in today. You are free to take his card, here is his direct extension, and he will be happy to discuss your stay with you.”

“No…this is unacceptable. You mean to tell me there is no manager here?”

“Indeed, ma’am. He will be in first thing tomorrow…”

“But I want a discount now…” Of course you do. It’s time to pay your bill.

“I need you to define for me what it is you all consider worthy of situation where you call management at home…” Define? What, we back in first grade?

“Well, Ma’am…” Bear in mind, this young woman is at least a decade my junior. And I look my age.

“No…you need to define it for me…because…” I need do nothing short of stay Black and die.

“Well…”

“I find this unacceptable. I want your boss’ boss’ name… Or your regional…” What is this, Wal-Mart? Your batteries not making the rabbit hum hard enough?

“The hotel is a franchise owned by an equity group. Operations issues generally stop with the GM…I am sure he will be happy to help you…”

“Well, YOU define for ME…” Here we go with define again. Huh?

“In the event of an emergency, all staff are trained to…”

“Define for me what it takes to get the manager called at home…” OK. You are probably a year out of college and feel that if you get loud, snippy and pretend to have some juice, Negroes should dance. If I were a white male you would have taken the damn business card and vamoosed. If I were a Black female I’d have my foot in your ass by now. But I am a schoolteacher who has been in school longer than you’ve been out of the hood, and it is time for this charade to stop.

“Young lady…” The entire lobby got still. “I am trying to answer your question in as succinct a manner as possible. You continue to interrupt me, preventing me from providing you the information you repeatedly request. There are matters of urgency in which all staff have received training to manage those crises prior to making management contact. A fire on the property, for example. Human safety is in no way on a par with your request for a discount because you were dissatisfied with your stay. You have not given me one issue that needs resolving, You are delaying other guests in your attempt to power struggle with me. Your best bet is to contact the general manager in the morning. Good day.” I then happily spelled my last name for her. I wanted her to get her complaint right.

That started the other wanna bes a talkin’. It started me a thinkin’. Whenever I am out, I try to speak to every person of color that I find working in an establishment. It is just good manners to give people serving you some respect. I have heard many stories from old folk about how much we were disrespected by everyone else in the past. The least I can do is let someone that looks like me know that I appreciate them doing their job. Even royalty frowns upon treating servants rudely. It just isn’t done.

I was further embarrassed as a Black educated professional. I have always said that rudeness and defiance are not strength. They are rudeness and defiance. To have a young woman think she could browbeat me into acquiescing to her unreasonable demands because, frankly, she was short on her hotel bill (which was later confirmed) was unconscionable. What she saw was a big black guy working a dead end job and figured that she would scare him with some corporate mumbo jumbo and pretension. He betta recognize his betters when in their company.

I have given away hotel rooms to people that have been honest, fair, and reasonable. This woman’s bullying manner spoke volumes about her lack of experience in the real world of business. It also attested to her insecurities and lack of people skills. Sadly, had I met this same person in another environment, she probably would have fallen over herself with graciousness if she felt I could do something for her. Finally, it bothered me that we have fallen so far that some of us feel disrespect is acceptable. These, however, are the Black folk America likes to see. They are the ones who believe they hold themselves to a higher standard. My daddy told me to always be nice to people preparing your food and making your bed.

I wished I had a hotel full of those Black families that make most Americans uncomfortable. Experience has shown me that although they lack many of the things our society finds important, they have no shortage of plain home training.