Racially charged language and actions of a lifetime are like sharp knives, leaving in-visible wounds that continue to bleed, hypersensitive until the scab falls off, replaced by scarred tissue. Our nation’s unresolved issues of racial injustice, like dirty sewage, continue to ooze from our wounds, unrestrained.
—Dori Davis  

       I showed up the first day of the Spring 2019 trimester with the eagerness and delight of a kid on the first day of school. It had not occurred to me that I would be the only Black Study Discussion Group PLATO member seated at the table, the only Black member in the entire organization.   

       I had been in my SDG only two weeks when a member seated next to me raised his hand and boldly stated that he crosses the street when he sees a Black person. His words stung, stubbornly hung in the air as he repeated the statement to make his point. In another session, a member seated across the table chimed in, “I heard on the news that Black women who drop off their kids for school have rollers in their hair.” As she commented, she glared at me with piercing eyes. I had heard the same story on “The Wendy Williams Show” — a daytime talk show — not the news. But I heard no mention of the ethnicity of the women in question. “The Wendy Williams Show” segment was a commentary on class differences. Moms — without the assistance of nannies — sometimes juggling two jobs, with little to no time and few resources, barely have time to get everybody dressed, fed, and out the door. Glamour and coiffed hair are luxuries they cannot afford.   

       In my third week, just before the session started, the Coordinator came to me and said my designated mentor would not be in the session. She had withdrawn from the SDG. The friendly person who always greeted me with a warm smile that radiated acceptance and joy was inexplicably gone. I sank into my seat, feeling abandoned and exposed. How can someone who is supposed to look out for me just leave? I no longer had an ally in the SDG to counteract the cruel blows thrown my way.

       It was around that time I attended my orientation meeting. Present were three regular PLATO members along with one other new member — a white male. During the meeting, I referred to documents I had downloaded on my iPad as the presenter discussed the material with us. Suddenly, peering over the eyeglasses resting on her nose, the presenter called out in an accusatory and offensive tone usually reserved for a strict schoolteacher poised to scold a wayward child, “You’re not surfing the internet, are you?” I lifted my iPad in the air, showed her the screen with the documents she had emailed to us —my professionalism and judgment questioned out loud. I could not imagine her spewing the same tone of disrespect with the new white male PLATO member had he been using an iPad instead of shuffling through papers as he followed her presentation.    

       The week following my orientation meeting, I enjoyed a brisk walk from my parked car, the golden sun warming my skin. As I waited for the lobby elevator, my red, new-member PLATO badge proudly displayed, one of the members introduced at the orientation meeting as someone who would be working with new members approached the elevator alone. A second member came up at about the same time. The two women greeted each other with smiles. The three of us entered and rode the elevator up together. My existence went unacknowledged on the ride up as the two women ex-changed friendly chatter. Though I had met one of the women a few days earlier, she treated me as an invisible stranger, my presence erased.

       My exuberance for PLATO had been snatched from me in three short weeks by the ghosts of racism. I decided to withdraw from my SDG and audit other SDGs to use the trimester to broaden my knowledge of PLATO and its members and better position myself to make an informed decision about continued membership. My audit experiences, though unremarkable, were neither inspiring nor reassuring.

       It was a brilliantly sunny afternoon. I had pre-scheduled lunch with a PLATO member at Elyseé. She had invited another member to join us. Seated at the table, they sat side by side across from me. After we finished our meals, the woman I had just met craned her neck in an awkward 90-degree turn towards the woman who sat next to her. She rested the side of her face on the back of her hand, open palm facing me, shutting me out — and positioned herself for a conversation with her friend, minus me. From my lonely side of the table, I watched the two of them chat, absorbed in the glow of friendship.

       I enrolled in the fall trimester. Several sessions into my 14-week SDG, the group engaged in a spirited discussion. I was shocked — the all too familiar feeling of agitation thrust upon me — when a member used the word “Negro” as he made a point about Black people. He glanced towards me, immediately corrected himself. I was embarrassed for him, for the ease with which the word flowed from his tongue, smoothly.

       Other experiences: a PLATO member who refused to partner with me as a presenter in a ten-week SDG; my raised hand repeatedly overlooked or comments cut short and interrupted by the occasional presentation leader who found it difficult to acknowledge my presence; my mentor arriving an hour late for a pre-SDG morning breakfast meeting she had scheduled with me. I sat, alone, party of one, read In the Midst of Winter by Isabel Allende on my iPad and munched on my avocado toast.

       Some may dismiss my experiences with socially polite excuses or explanations. “That’s the way PLATO members treat all new members.” “I’m sure it was not intentional.” “It’s not personal.” I do not presume to understand intentions or motivations, particularly as a newcomer to the organization. That would be a fool’s errand. However, I do know the consequences and chilling effect of racially offensive words, actions, and deeds: the pain of exclusion and inequality. We find a way to handle our interactions and relationships with people we value, with respect and dignity. I believe we should accept no less as we reach for the humanity in each of us, including those who are different. We must do better.   

       My friends ask me why I stay. “Why not walk away?” I answer fiercely: “I refuse to be distracted by what I hope are a few bad apples. I stand on the shoulders of many who sacrificed everything for me to have a seat at the table.” Countless women, men, and children who selflessly put their lives on the line in the fight for racial justice dreamed of a better United States, an enriched community of humanity. I claim my seat to honor their legacies, with pride and dignity. 

       As a woman of color, unfortunately, or fortunately, I am prewired to encapsulate unpleasant memories with memories of acts of kindness and friendship. There is the PLATO member, who, after a conversation about my interest in writing, gave me a book on writing and publishing. There is the member who designated herself as my unofficial mentor, encouraged and supported my efforts and intentions, and invited me to parties with PLATO friends. Some members reached out to me, went the extra mile to warmly welcome and accept me into the group; they valued my contribution. Several members offered kudos on my presentations. “I enjoyed your presentation,” said a woman with a smile. A couple of members reached out to me privately to discuss and condemn offensive comments and actions. On my first SDG day at PLATO, a member quietly commented, “PLATO needs more diversity. It’s nice that you’re here.” 

       As I reimagine PLATO amid milestone first experiences in my second member-ship year, I am a first-time SDG Co-coordinator of “An Elegant Defense” and Co-chair of the newly created Diversity Outreach and Inclusion Committee. These experiences are especially meaningful for me at this historical moment of societal racial reckoning. 

       I believe we all share the responsibility of ridding ourselves of the heavy burden of implicit and explicit racism. To not seize this moment would be a missed opportunity to live and make history in real-time. It is to make PLATO better, to realize its full potential as a unique platform for continuing education, intellectual stimulation, and social engagement for all. Perhaps having a meaningful dialogue to shine a light on this issue can make PLATO a stronger organization.