Enter the Dragon

I'm sitting in a different fishbowl today. The second floor of Cafe Vita at 2:01pm is much different from the corner of Bauhaus that hovers over the intersection of Melrose and Pine. There aren't that many people on the second level of Vita today, four total including me. I am nuzzled in a corner between the wall and a bookcase in the back of the room and the three other coffee goers are all perched alongside the window facing the stairs. I am facing them. Leave it to me to be the one to break continuity. One of their cell phones just rang. The other two's hands quickly jetted to their phones to check if they had a new message. I'm not really feeling inspired by this setting today. 

I think its because I've been busy thinking about other things. When I was at the gym yesterday, I recall a group of jocks walking behind me saying something in that passive agressive tone/volume where they say something at a volume that almost sounds like their trying to get somebody's attention but it is isnt clear because they might be just talking to each other. You know, that tone. Anyway, I swear hearing one of them repeating:

HEY, BRUCE LEE!

Now, unless one of the three specifically non Asian jock things walking behind me were martial arts experts, which, I doubt. I do believe they were speaking to me. Apparently, I, Mr. Generic Asian, am Bruce Lee. While I should be flattered by the comparison of myself to one of the greatest figures in Asian American history, I am damn pissed. I am not really angry at the the ignorance of the three jock things, but I am angry at myself for not saying anything right then. All this training, all this practice in verbal argumentation and I just walk away from that situation wondering if they said what they really said.

At first I tried blaming my own niceness for just walking away. I tried to explain to myself that I was doubtful of what they said because I didn't want to accuse anyone of racial harassment without really knowing if they did. By the time that I had concluded that they were Bruce Lee-Ing me, they had gone, and I had continued to my regular workout. 

I think what also contributed to my doubtfulness in the situation was the fact that the member of the jock things that was calling me Bruce Li was a person of color. 

Okay, so I realize that I cannot advertise my what I attempt to do for multicultural understanding to everyone. I should not even need to. But the fact that a person of color was oppressing me, another person of color was such a betrayal. I remember reading about cultural competencies and internalized oppression. I know that even people of color may not have heightened cultural competency. But this horizontal racism, this racism that comes from people of color to other people or color is so distressing.

I suppose I stumbled upon one of those irrational assumptions that I had hidden away in my head. I assumed that all marginalized people understand what it means to be marginalized. I suppose this should have been something i realized a long time ago. But i suppose its different to be called a chink as i'm walking down a street by some miscellaneous person from the dominant culture as opposed to hearing it from another person of color. The horizontal racism hurts more.