Is this what is happening to our black men?

Wow, yesterday I wrote about my experience on the train and today I saw this photo!
Its so true!!!

Four Times on the Train

The first time I saw him on the train, I was irritated. A couple of months before that I had seen a brother steeling food in Tescos, so when this joker got on at Warren Street, this slim dirty black man I was thinking
‘is this what is happening to our men?’
He got on looked around and then he started
“excuse me ladies and gentlemen; I’m homeless and hungry…
When he had finished his begging speech there was a slight sigh of irritation around the carriage and he walked down holding out his cup.
‘Don’t hold your nasty cup in my face’ I thought as he walked by “stupid man, bringing black people a bad name” I was glad when he got off at Euston with an empty cup.

The second time I saw him on the train, I felt guilty. This same brother was back, jumping on at Warren Street. He had the same clothes on and was definitely no longer slim, he was skinny. He was really dirty this time, and looked like it had been a long time since a shave, his afro was disgusting.
‘is this what is happening to our men?’ I thought again…
He looked around and started
“excuse me ladies and gentlemen; I’m homeless and hungry and just need…
When he came past with his cup we both had eye contact
‘you shouldn’t give them cash’ I reasoned with myself ‘they just spend it on drugs’ but when he got off at Euston with an empty cup I had an uncomfortable feeling.

The third time I saw him on the train I felt ashamed. The brother stepped on at Warren Street looking like he had days to live. He had a black eye and his clothes, those same ones were all black and torn, he was bones by now, I wondered when he had last eaten or washed, a nasty stench followed him on. His beard was a tangle and his afro looked like something was living in there
‘oh crap’ I thought ‘this IS what is happening to our men’
He looked around and started, his eyes were glazed
“excuse me lades and gentlemen; I’m homeless and hungry and just need to get a little bit of cash together so that I can spend the night in the hostel and get a good meal to eat”
As he was speaking I also looked around at the people. Everyone was ignoring him and trying not to even look in his direction. Compassion overtook me and when he came past with his cup I dug in my purse and filled it.
“Thank you” he whispered and we both had eye contact. He got off at Euston as usual.

I didn’t see him after that. I wondered about him and thought to myself that I had probably killed him. I thought he would have gone and spent all my money on drugs and now he was dead and it was all my fault, I vowed never to give money to ‘them’ again. I half looked out for him at Warren Street but he never got on again.

The fourth time I saw him on the train was today. He stepped on at Warren street and I did a double take, I recognised him instantly but this was not the same man I saw months ago. This was a cleaner, fatter, healthier man with different clothes. He still looked like he was going through a lot so I braced myself for the speech…but he had another surprise for me. He pulled a little book out of his back pocket and sat down and started to read it.

I wonder if that will be the last time I ever see him…

That made my day!!!

Rasta to the Rescue

This morning, when I changed tube at Euston the train was crowded. I found myself facing the door with a….well I'm guessing an Eastern European Man (by the accent) to my right.

He was standing just in my eyeline. He looked like a builder or some sort of manual worker, with old clothes and paint on them anyway when I glanced at him I saw him grinning at me in a big way, so I just frowned and continued to look forward, I had my earphones on so I just blanked him out. I could feel him staring at me so I turned to give him an even badder look to say 'hey stop' but he winked and licked his lip and blew on me.

YUCK his breath stunk so I just pulled a face…but then he whispered 'hey sexy' and blew on me some more.

I felt really sick…it was something so dirty and smarmy about the man and when his breath touched my skin it made me want to go home and wash my face.

Anyway……after a moment of feeling slightly upset…said LOUD "You are intimidating me, step off"

The whole carriage went quiet and I felt everyone looking.

"What?" he said laughing and shamed

I said "You know what you are doing so stop now, its disgusting and I feel bullied and intimated, two feelings I shouldn’t have at ten to eight in the morning"

"f**k you b**ch" he said

I was about to tell him something but then I heard some big old Rasta voice booming down, I forget this Euston train comes straight from Brixton lol, I turned around to see a giant probably around 6f4 Rasta with waist length dreads one big cap and one serious angry look. He cussed the dude big time. I never heard patois like that in my life and I'm Jamaican! Lol!

The other guy literally dived out at Warren Street (the next stop) and ran off down the platform. This was also the Rastas stop.

He turned to me and said "yuh arlight sistrin? na mek nunna dem idiyat breddas pon de train carry on wid no fool fool business okay? Stay blessed mi beuatuiful queen"

And he also got off the train. I don’t know about his life, his family, issues, emtions or habits, but I do know that right there was an example of someone who was willing to stand up for something he wasn’t happy with and that’s admireable… Thank you Rasta...

© Angel June 25th 2008