To share in a loving community
and vision that magnifies our strength and banishes
fear and despair, here, we find the solid ground
from which justice can flow like a mighty stream.
–Victor Lewis
The Starbucks in San Leandro’s Palma Plaza has become a community gathering place for a portion of that city’s Ethiopian men. My ancestors hail from a very different part of the African continent than these gentlemen, but I am always happy to see Black folks enjoying each other’s company. For most of our 500-year sojourn in the Americas, loving, life-affirming community has been our greatest source of strength.
MacArthur Blvd., near Poppy’s Bubble Wash, Oakland, CA.
***
I took some artistic license with this one. Rather than depict him in the white t-shirt he was sort of wearing (in that way that some young brothas do, with one arm pushed through one of the arm holes, and the other side of the shirt pushed up around his shoulder), I just removed his shirt entirely. This enabled me simplify the color palate and emphasize the contrast between the smooth areas of color and the textured ones.
This chatty guy was in a remarkably good mood today. We crossed paths waiting on line at the Starbucks on Webster St. in Alameda. The after-school line is always long at this particular cafe, and I generally use the time to either chat with my niece (if she’s with me) or browse the day’s news on my various media apps. Not so today. This guy told me all about his favorite pastries, his favorite coffee drinks, and the reason he believes that this particular Starbucks has the best baristas in the city. I was sorta kinda listening, and sorta kinda wondering if he was actually going to talk to me until we got up to the counter.
This is one of several older Black men who were gathered together at the Starbucks on MacArthur, in San Leandro. Based on their familiarity with the staff and some of the other regular customers, I’m guessing that this must be a regularly scheduled meetup. While they were chatting and laughing over coffee and snacks, I was working on a particularly tedious part of my current research project; but, rather than distract me, the upbeat mood at their table lifted my spirits.
World Ground, MacArthur Blvd., Oakland, California.
Observation: Dreadlocks are kind of like the rings on a tree. You can see a lot of the history of a person’s relationship to their hair in the color and texture of them. For example, if a brotha’s locks are reddish on tips, black for 12 inches or so, and then gray at the roots, then he was probably dyeing his hair when started them. Then, along with his natural hairstyle, he also went back to his natural color, which began to shift from black to gray as the years wore on. If his dreadlocks are gray (or white) all the way from the roots to the tips, then his hair must have been gray for a pretty long time.
