Written by Sharon Simeon, Ph.D.
I came to Flint in the late 1980s from Chicago, Illinois because I found my birth mother after a long search. Both of my adopted parents were deceased, and I did not have family members in Chicago. I was divorced and raising my children alone. My birth mother encouraged me to move to Flint to be closer to her and my siblings.
I had several temporary jobs before getting the job I wanted as a teller at NDB (National Bank of Detroit). The bank sent me to work in the downtown Davison Branch. It was a culture shock to work in a small town, on Main Street nonetheless. I found it very charming.
There was a hair salon near the branch. I made an appointment over the telephone to have my hair done at that salon. When I went for my appointment the young lady at the reception desk stated there was not an appointment for me. I explained I made the appointment over the telephone and was told I had an appointment. She was very insistent and reemphasized I did not have an appointment. I then asked if I could make another appointment since the first appointment I made was not available. The young lady looked at me up and down and forcefully stated, “There is NO appointment for YOU.” It finally hit me, there was no appointment for me because of the color of my skin. It was not because of the texture of my hair because I am bi-racial and my hair is predominantly straight. It was because I was BLACK. I had never experienced blatant racism before. I was devastated.
I returned to work and tried to hide the tears in my eyes.The teller to the left of me asked what was the matter. I told her and she said, “Really.” The teller to the right of me heard what had happened and did not say anything else as we were waiting on customers. Both of these ladies lived in town. I was the only Black employee at the branch.
The next day, I had a line of people waiting in line for my window. I noticed this because when the customers were called to the next available teller they said, “No they wanted my window.” The first customer said they had heard what had happened to me at the salon, and they wanted me to know they were very sorry this had happened to me and that the people of the town were not all like that person. I thanked them for their kind words, finished the transaction and called the next person to my window.
To my surprise, this went on all day. I was so touched. Finally, a lady came to my window and apologized for the treatment I had received and said she owned a hair salon down the street and would be honored if I would come to her hair salon to get my hair done.
I was so taken aback, in a good way, that my co-workers had let so many people know of the racism I had experienced. I thanked both of my co-workers and let them know how much it meant to me for the citizens of the town to come in person to the bank to let me know the majority of the people did not approve of the racism.
My coworkers hugged me and apologized for the treatment I received and (expressed) how hurt they felt because I did not deserve such treatment. I went to the lady’s hair salon and had my hair done. Again, her clients emphasized how sorry they were I was treated in such a disrespectful way.
The racism I experienced happened over thirty years ago, and it still hurts, but when I think about all the kind people who spoke to me afterwards, the hurt is lessened.
