He’s out of the ordinary. At a glance he is colourful and nattily dressed.
When I zoom in, I see that the leather of his two-tone shoes is cracked. He is wearing two watches on one wrist and one on the other. He has dollar bills clipped to the sides of his plastic bags.
He has not one, but several plastic bags – the handles showing one in side another.
He seems to me – the foreigner in New York – to represent what happens when you denigrate a whole section of society for generations. Some of them try; their wounded, injured self respect and pride makes them try. But in the trying they are nonetheless wounded, and the trying is a bit odd.
Of course, I could be reading more into this than it warrants. Maybe. What do you see?
My oldest son told me something last night. The conversation turned to Charlottesville and he mentioned something he had read by a Black academic on the history of Black people – how the narrative started with slavery. Interesting thought.
It reminded me of something I read – that in the early days of the British adventure in India, everyone in Britain wanted Indian furnishings and art in the homes.
When Britain took over India, a subjugated people didn’t have the same appeal and people in Britain didn’t want Indian furnishings any more.