American Airlines flight attendant accused of racist remark

Dudu Nobre, a Brazilian singer, has filed a lawsuit against American Airlines. He, his wife and producer are looking for $4 million in damages, claiming that flight attendants used racial slurs when talking to him and that they stabbed his producer with a sharp pen. So, the next time you’re wondering what could make the long flight from Sao Paulo to New York worse, in a world where amenities and seat space are declining seemingly daily, Nobre is equipped to let you know.

One flight attendant is said to have called Nobre a monkey repeatedly in Portuguese during the flight – pushing it further by making monkey-like sounds. Apparently, these sounds are the closest thing to comment, as American Airlines is remaining tight-lipped.

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Women barred from men’s dining room at private golf club

Whoa! Wait a minute. How can that be? Where have I been? I keep thinking I have more freedom of movement about the world than I actually have. Here’s one more place I can’t go.

I just read that at the Phoenix Country Club women are not allowed in the men’s grill room where the serious business deal making and dining occurs. No, the women who want find food to nosh on are pushed off into the women’s grill which is smaller and without the buffet, the bar or the lovely view of the golf course. The women’s grill has a hotplate.

There’s a bit of a fuss going on at the country club since some members want to move on into modern times where a couple can eat eggs together for breakfast, for example. Some of the men are as appalled by living in the days when women weren’t allowed in saloons–“respectable” women mind you and are having a time of it for standing up for their wives. This is true. Here’s the article that covers the details. The story involves peeing on a pecan tree as well as other juicy grammar school-like tidbits.

But before you go to the article, consider this. Several years ago, and I’m talking many–when I lived in Columbia, South Carolina during middle school, my mom took my brother and me to a roller skating rink. When we found out we had to be members in order to skate, we decided that rink wasn’t for us. Why not? Becoming members had to do with religion and skin color. We just happened to be the right religion and and the right skin color, but we didn’t like the rules. We thought the rules should change.

Since then, I think, rules have changed. But, I often live in La-La-Land where we all get along, so I can’t say if this is 100% so. *Before those of you from the south start sputtering, let me assure you I loved so much about South Carolina. Seventh grade was my Renaissance year and I was sad to move.

But, this story is about men and women and not race and religion–so perhaps, they aren’t similar. After all, there are men’s clubs and women’s clubs–and most people wouldn’t argue about that, so what’s the difference?

If the women had a grill as good as the men’s, and the business deal making happened outside the men’s grill so women could participate, I wonder if there would be as much of an issue?

Here’s what I mean. When I was in the Peace Corps, I had some friends who lived in my village who were from Pakistan. The women in the family–18 year-old twins and the mother, didn’t interact with men other than their dad/husband because he was the only family member who lived in The Gambia.

These were wonderful people who treated me extremely well. Once there were men coming for dinner. Since the dad was to have guests, I was invited to keep them company where they would eat in another room. The food was put in the dining room. While the men filled up their plates, we waited in a bedroom with the door closed.

After the men went to the living room, and the door was closed to the dining room, we got our food. Okay, sure the men at first, but there was plenty left.

But, this isn’t the same as the men’s grill either. I was told I could go visit with the men if I wanted to. I didn’t want to. Probably because I had a choice–and I was already in the best company.

As for the women who are at the Phoenix Country Club looking for some equity, I hope they have a frying pan if they want to cook up those eggs on their own.

And if any of you are heading off to a private club somewhere, check to see who can get in. It might surprise you.

Travel and racism: What’s love got to do with it?

I posted a story about an on-line test developed by the University of Chicago to help people learn about their tendencies to think a wallet or a cell phone may be a gun depending on the color of the person’s skin. Two commenters wondered what the study has to do with travel. I think most things have to do with travel, but I majored in sociology as an undergraduate, so I see connections in EVERYTHING. Name two subjects and I’ll find the connecting dots somewhere.

Since my post, Iva wrote a post about gun related deaths in Chicago during one weekend, and the people she knows who wants to see bad neighborhoods. This is not that different, I don’t think, than people who drive through Appalachia looking to see if people have teeth.

When I learned about the study about racism and guns, I flashed to ideas about safety and travel. Perhaps, I was thinking, people’s ideas about safety have something to do with where they choose to go on vacation, and perhaps, if they travel at all. There are plenty of reasons why people choose vacation spots, but there are reasons why people don’t pick certain destinations as well. I don’t think racism is it, but a sense of security and the predictable is.

There’s a reason why Disneyland and Disney World get a crowd. Part of it has something to do with feeling safe, I would guess. The Magic Kingdom has a far-reaching comfort zone. When our daughter was five-years -old, we lost her in Disneyland for a few minutes because my husband thought she was holding my hand, and I thought she was holding his. We were busy arguing about something, thus distracted. Our daughter had stopped to look at something and we had kept going. We freaked a bit, running pell mell, retracing our steps, but I didn’t think something bad would have happened. Disneyland is about as controlled an environment as one can get.

New York City, also a popular tourist destination, isn’t controlled, and perhaps, because of this, people may feel more on edge, particularly on a first time visit.

The first time I went to New York City without adults, I was with a high school friend. We went for a day walking a tidy path from Times Square to Grand Central Station, down 5th Avenue to Rockefeller Center and back to Times Square. There wasn’t any risk of getting lost. Never mind that as a 4th grader, I had ridden my bike all over State College, Pennsylvania when I lived there. On my next trip to New York, also in high school, I did strike out on a subway for more of the unknown. Years later, I feel perfectly safe in the city, even when walking to my brother’s apartment at night by myself.

People have ideas of danger that are on a subconscious level. When a friend and I traveled across the United States by bus (yes, it can be done) after we got out of the Peace Corps, we spent a few nights hanging out at bus stations in the middle of the night the further west we got. For some reason buses don’t seem to leave any earlier than 1 a.m. or arrive any later than 5 a.m. once you get past St. Louis. At least that’s what we found when we were traveling.

While we were waing for a city bus in Denver to take us to the bus station, after we went to a movie blocks away from the theater we asked a woman about the safety around the bus station that time of night. She gave us a police whistle she had around her neck. In Salt Lake City, one couple, who knew that we were heading to the bus station late at night, decided they would take us there when we stopped to ask them for directions. As far as I could tell, we were as safe at the bus stations as we would have been at Disneyland, but there are impressions people have of bus stations at night.

I’ve lived several years outside of the United States and have talked to many, many, many people who think that cities in the United States are not safe because of all the guns. At times it has seemed like people think that as soon as you step off the airplane at JFK or La Guardia, you’d better duck and cover. (That’s a bit of an exaggeration, but people, mostly taxi drivers in Singapore, have said that they worry.) Whenever people mention a thought of the United States not being safe, I tell them that it is safe. Really.

My thought is that people who travel extensively may see the world as a much safer place just because their exposure to diversity is that much higher. The unknown becomes less threatening because the unknown is smaller. This is my hunch based on conversations I’ve had with people who don’t travel much. I’m not saying that those who travel are better people, but their experiences may give them a broader knowledge of humanity.

To mr, the study by the University of Chicago is not a definitive account on racist attitudes, but one that is looking for an explanation about an aspect of human behavior. Just like it is surprising to think of Robert Quest, the CNN reporter getting caught in Central Park with a small bag of meth in his pocket, we have notions of who we think might be more likely to be holding a gun. As I said in my post, I never think anyone is holding a gun. I actually don’t know anyone who has a gun besides two people–one of them a hunter. There may be others who think everyone is holding a gun.

I do think that which type of person travels, and where people go, has something to do with safety. Whether people think an object that is pulled out of a pocket late at night is a gun, a wallet or a cell phone probably has more to do with where someone is and the circumstances. Where someone is may have something to do with where the person feels safe. That’s my opinion, anyway. I can’t help it. I majored in Sociology.

Oh, and what does love got to do with it? The line from the song, “What’s Love Got To Do with It?” played in my head for some reason when I was thinking of a title for the post. It stuck. It’s a line from the Tina Turner song. The next line line from the song is “What’s love but a second hand emotion?” I don’t think this has anything to do with travel, but it’s catchy.

How racist are you? Is it a gun or a cell phone?

In Diversity Inc, there is an article about a pop psychology test from the University of Chicago. The test, self-administered on-line, runs through various photos of black and white men who are either holding a gun or something else. The test taker presses the “/ ” key to shoot the guy with the gun, or presses the “z” key to put the gun away.

The idea is for the test taker to see how racist he or she is in terms of who he or she thinks is more likely to be carrying a gun. I took the test and found out that I would have been shot dead several times over since my reaction time was so darned slow. I scored into the negative numbers. It didn’t matter if the shooter was black or white.

The test is pretty slick, even if, one is not prone to give much stock to this sort of study. The pondering about who is packing a gun reminds me of those discussions I had in college with friends of mine. We wondered what each of us would do if walking alone at night. If a man was coming, who crossed to the other side, and under what circumstances? Each of us admitted that our radar went up regardless of who the man was and how fast he was coming up behind us or towards us.

I don’t tend to think of people walking around with guns. I do notice the no guns stickers on signs since carrying a gun is legal in Ohio. As far as I can tell from my terrible score, when I look at a gun, I see a wallet or a cell phone. It doesn’t matter who is holding it.

Here is a link to the test to see how you do. Nicholas Kristof recently wrote an Op-Ed piece for the New York Times about this study where he expresses some dismay at his own results.

What I think is missing from the data is the background of the person taking the test. I wonder how much age, sex, and whether a person grew up in a city or in the country has any bearing on reactions? I also wonder if people who travel often are more likely to see a wallet? Or do our experiences have nothing to do with our trigger finger? I also wonder if, when we are traveling in a country where violent crime is rare, we react differently? I would guess yes.

Mexican people prefer booths, don’t like waiting


Here’s an excerpt of an employee handbook found at a small Mexican restaurant located in Huntington Beach, CA that I saw on Gridskipper. And thank goodness I did because I really had no idea that all Mexican people like booths and hate waiting to be seated. Wait, does that mean that us whities don’t mind sitting around and are okay with uncomfortable hard-backed seats? Really, the logic here is beyond me.

That’s not all–women waitressing at this gem of an establishment must wear make-up and cannot wear a skirt that goes below the knees. Kind of reminds me of the dress code rules at my high school–except completely opposite.