yes, black people surf.
have you ever had to answer question like this?
It’s a question I deal with often from both white people and minorities. I hear it in quips like “brothers don’t surf” from wannabe authorities, or in cutting questions like “how did you get into that?” from individuals who are unaware of their lack of tact. It also comes through in scenarios like my flight to San Francisco a few months back.
After firing off a few emails, the guy sitting to my left starts a conversation with me –
Dude: “Where are you from?”
Me: “I’m from a lot of places but I spend most of my year in Costa Rica.”
Dude: “What brings you to the Bay Area?
Me: “I’m visiting my friend who lives in the Mission. We’re going to chase waves. Starting north and heading south.”
Dude: “Chase waves?”
Me: “Surfing.”
He looks askance at me and exclaims “wait, you surf?”
That “wait, you surf” can have one of two meanings: Either 1) that’s great. I surf, too. I’m super excited to talk shop with you, or 2) you’re black and the notion of you surfing confuses to me.
I generously give the benefit of the doubt.
Me: “Yep! I love it. Are you a surfer?”
Dude: “No, I tried it once on vacation a few years ago. I sucked.”
Me: “You should give it another shot. No one is good right off the bat.”
And, here it comes – the inevitable cringer –
Dude: “I don’t normally meet many black surfers.”
Now, I am in no way surprised by the comment. Like most people of color, I am constantly shifting into neutral to field questions about my hair or why I use sunblock. My voice involuntarily switches into this monotone drone so I can offer up canned responses with emotionless ease.
“Like most people of color, I am constantly shifting into neutral to field questions about my hair or why I use sunblock.”
I set aside my visceral response to the guy’s presumption that he is the arbiter of what is or isn’t normal and decide to lean on good old logic to help him out.
Me: “How many passengers on this plane – give or take?”
Dude: “I don’t know.”
Me: “Well, let’s assume there are about 150.”
Dude: “Sounds reasonable”
Me: “Alright. So how many of them are black?”
Dude: Blank stare
Me: “Let’s assume 3 out of every 20. That’s like 15%”
Dude: “Sure”
Me: “So, consider the remaining 85% of white people on this plane, or say, walking around a city block – what percentage of them do you think are surfers?”
His nod indicates he’s starting to get my drift. I continue.
Me: “So, if we ask 17 randomly-picked white people if they surf, we might find only 2 to 3 out of them who are avid surfers, no?”
Dude: “Right”
Me: “So, if we can accept that as few as ~12% of our hypothetical sample of white people surf and fewer than 1 in 4 Americans adults actively participate in sports of any ilk, perhaps your shock about my being a black surfer has less to do with race and more to do with the relatively low number of surfers you meet generally.”
Dude: “Or I was just being a jackass.”
Both: Kindhearted laughter and followed by a great conversation.
Bottom line – yes, black people surf. So do a lot of other types of people. Why bother with the qualifications? I like to think in simple terms – surfers and those who haven’t yet gotten the bug.
“We all have blind spots around prejudice and can be seduced by half-baked stereotypes.”
Embracing the simple and often underutilized assumption of ‘I don’t know’ and accepting that our experiences only represent a sliver of the full canvas works wonders.
What do you think? Have you had similar experiences? Let us know by posting a comment below.