I forced myself to go into Coffea Roasterie, a cute shop on the corner of 10th and Phillips, and ordered a black coffee. This fearless woman-or so I thought I was until this day-was all like, Let’s jet. That’s not how it felt, but I’ll never know. Maybe they wanted to talk to me, welcome me, but weren’t sure what to say. The weird thing is, looking back, I had no idea how they were feeling. I felt guilt like I had done something by just occupying room in their space. I felt if I stayed too long in one spot, they might think the worse. I wanted to spend a bit of time, but with their sights on me, I was too self-conscious. I didn’t last more than five minutes in the store. And I thought, I wish I could just disarm them with a smile. From the moment I walked in, I saw the one white guy and woman at the counter in the middle follow me with their eyes. I’d been looking to get a worn-in leather journal, but mainly I went in to clear my mind. But I couldn’t even get someone to hold eye contact with me long enough, let alone finish my good-mornings and how-are-yous. The downtown was three or four blocks, and I did what I usually did: Tried to greet people. Who was packing? Could a wrong look be considered fighting words? I later learned from Brian Gochal, the manager at Vishnu Bunny, an LGBTQIA-affirming tattoo parlor, that Black people make up less than 2% of the state’s population. ![]() I never knew what I was walking into in these towns. I hadn’t realized how much it unnerved me until the turning in my stomach began. The whole raisin-in-a-bowl-of-milk feeling-no one was doing anything overtly to make me feel this way, but there was no blending. Top: Downtown Sioux Falls, South Dakota Bottom: Falls Park in downtown Sioux Falls. Is there something on my dress? Is it my mask? As he drove past, he did what felt like a quadruple-take my way. As it moved down the street, that bass hit me like hello! I turned and saw a white, middle-aged man cruising down West 10th, windows down, in a maroon pickup. As I began walking towards an intersection, 10th and Phillips Streets, I heard rap music blasting. ![]() I had arrived that morning and found free garage public parking right away (quite possibly the biggest difference between Manhattan and Sioux Falls). Never in my life have I felt so visible and seen. But I hated my entire day in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, before I met Jody and Jan. And I believe there are ways to unpack that word with more effective classifications. “I love that red!” the younger one screamed, pointing to my Infallible Maybelline lipstick. I brought down the mask for about a second, just below my chin. I did a quick calculation: I think I’m six feet away. ![]() Her silver-haired mother looked petite, with gray eyes behind clear specs. ![]() But one of the women smiled big-she didn’t wear a mask-and said, “Heyyyy! How are you?” The younger one was slim with dark-lined eyelids. A facemask made it hard to engage and disarm people, especially those who didn’t look like me, because I couldn’t flash a smile. I mustered the most cheerful voice I could. How do I do it this time? I thought as I got closer to them, a mother and daughter laughing at an outdoor table, shopping bags at their feet.Īsk for the best place to get shoes I don’t need? This story is part of ELLE's America Redefined series.
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