I Interrupted Racism at the Wh*test Cafe in America’s Most Segregated City

This morning, after a morning acupuncture appointment, I walked to the coffee shop down the street. There I am, sitting in a giant swing right on the sidewalk. I’ve got my computer on my lap and headphones in when a young person stopped and asked for a few dollars. He couldn’t have been more than 15.

It was so he and his sister could ride the bus, he said.

Just as he was finishing, one of the cafe employees approaches us and asks the young man if they can do anything for him. It was the same kind of “Can I help you?” one might get from a concierge, parking lot security or cop.

I spoke up immediately. “I don’t need you to defend me,” I said to the employee, looking them dead in the eyes.

“Okay,” they said, after a moment, and turned to leave.

“One more thing,” I said. “I’ve seen your owners and other employees act differently toward Black people and other folks just looking for a place to rest for a bit. Where your cafes are located and who you hire says something about what kind of business you are and I’d like to see y’all be more intentional about creating a culture of equity.”

To be fair, I’ve also seen employees at one location give out free coffee and show genuine kindness to a homeless person they seemed to know well. The employee today even thanked me for my “kind words.”

It was a situation that, thankfully, ended without a lot of strife for anyone.

Me, in a giant swing, outside Colectivo Coffee’s Bay View cafe in Milwaukee, Wis.

More than a few locals have feelings about the fact that the largest craft coffee roaster in a city that is 56 percent Black and Hispanic has no cafes in majority Black or Latinx neighborhoods. And anyone who keeps their eyes open will notice they employ very few Black or Brown folks.

Colectivo is undoubtedly not the only local business that has a preference for pale-skinned people but it’s one of the most noticeable. With thirteen cafes in the Milwaukee area, it’s one of the few places you can go to work on your computer, grab a bite and kick back that isn’t Starbucks. In fact, their Lakefront Cafe is an iconic, must-see Milwaukee experience.

But the owners aren’t exactly strangers to controversy. Brothers Lincoln and Ward Fowler, and Paul Miller — who also operate five cafes in Chicago and three in Madison, Wis. — vehemently opposed a recent unionization effort by Colectivo employees, hiring a union-busting firm and claiming the union vote, which they lost, was fraudulent.

Most folks just don’t say anything. Some might not even know. Others might quietly boycott or resign themselves to supporting a business they don’t particularly care for because they like their healthy, affordable cafe food, fresh bakery or casual atmosphere.

This is how Whyte Supremacy works: it’s exclusionary, unwelcoming, only for “paying customers”. It shouldn’t be a surprise — in a city that is currently the most segregated in the country — that our most prominent and longstanding institutions might have racism running through their veins.

In fact, you can find it almost anywhere.

Sometimes it’s just a low-level employee enforcing a policy. Or an owner being cruel to someone they view as less-than-human. Other times, it could be a policeman murdering George Floyd or squeezing the breath from Eric Garner.

I turn back and ask Jesse — that was his name — why he approached me. “Why did I look like someone you should ask?” I said.

He responds, “Because you looked nice and you didn’t look at me strange … I go off people’s energy.”

I told Jesse he read me right but that, unfortunately, I don’t have a great ability to help people financially at the moment. I’ve been busy showing up for myself.

Because of this, because of the fact I was gearing up to work, I could have been angry or annoyed. I could have turned a blind eye to the harassment. Let Jesse be shooed on down the road. But, honestly, the kid had been kind — he gave me something I needed in the moment — and it was the least I could do to return the favor.

Not only did our meeting provide confirmation I’ve been searching for, but it reminded me of the innocence, the goodness, that can be present in interactions. It gave me an opportunity to be curious and practice the kind of generosity I aspire to. And, it helped me express something I’ve been wanting to say.

So I was happy to part with the $5 in my wallet.

As I placed it in his hands, I said, “Just be careful”.

Edit: I’ve had some friends ask “was it really racist?” and inquire as to whether the young man actually needed the money (for what he said he needed it for). To be clear: I don’t think the employee was acting with malicious intent. But that’s also not the bar that I use to determine racism. Racism is an outcome, an impact, a symptom … of a larger issue: “ownership” (what we often refer to as “power”), enforced through a colorist lens. This combination can, I believe, create the very conditions for that toxic feeling of supremacy to eek its way into our conscious or subconscious mind. So, the fact that the employee felt empowered — because Colectivo “owns” the property and has “policies” about “soliciting” customers — to harass this young man with the intent to keep this individual off land (that has, quite frankly, been stolen over and over again) is the real problem, in my mind. To whether the young man was telling the truth, “deserved” the money or has the right to interrupt me, as I sit peacefully, THIS is the crux of Racism. The idea that what’s most important is to deny another person something they need in order to protect my “peace” is preposterous. This “peace” being defined, according to MLK, as a “negative peace”, which is the absence of tension, rather than a “positive peace”, which is the presence of justice. Even if he’s lying, what matters to me more is that this young person doesn’t lose their life or dignity over a $5 and a white lie. Maybe, no matter what, he will have learned something about the world that will make his time here easier. And, I don’t understand why we would want to deny that of anyone.