Shortly after lunch today I was walking toward a Walmart store when I observed a very tall, very old woman exit her car and, with the help of her cane, start slowly shuffling toward the store entrance. I mention at this point that she was Black, as were the other women in my story, only because it is important to my story.
I really didn't see how she was going make it to the store so I grabbed a shopping cart and headed her way with the intent of offering her the cart so she would have something to hang on to and maybe not fall. I got to her at about the same time another woman came to her aid and took a defensive posture toward me as if I was going to hurt the old woman. After asking the old woman if she would like to have the cart to hold onto, the second woman's tension dropped and both she and the old woman were appreciative of my gesture. I then offered to go get one of the motorized scooters the store offers, but the old woman would have nothing to do with that. At that point, a couple of other women came storming in like I was assaulting the old woman and I walked away before anything farther was said.
Once inside the store, I alerted the door greeter of the very old Black lady in the parking lot who might need help, and the greeter knew her by name, Pearl, as a frequent shopper who always refuses the scooter. I went on about my shopping and was suddenly struck with my epiphany - why did I refer to the woman in the parking lot as an "old Black woman"? Why not just an "old woman"? Had the woman been White, would I have referred to her as an "old White woman"? I think not, the words don't roll off of my tongue.
Thinking more, I have reached the conclusion that this was an unconscious racial slur. I had no intention or desire to do that, hell, I went to help the woman after all. I'm thinking this is the product of growing up in the South during the '50s and '60s when racism was rampant in everything in life. I'm thinking it lies just under the surface in an unconscious area of my mind. I don't like it!