I happen to be facing the same quandary as you a few days ago. I actually put myself in between a raging argument that had already resulted in some violence. I stated to the brother in question that this wasn’t the way. I found myself speaking, assertively, to this man – channeling a “social conscience” that I hoped would assuade him (and the sister as well) to reevaluate their situation.

It worked. I can’t give credit to my oratory or my persuasive skills; I believe I distracted them both for just the right amount of time, while piquing the curiosity of others, which led to a disengagement – both parties separating.

I told the sister what Lauryn told all of us:

“Baby Girl, respect is just a minimum…”

It is often difficult to wrap my head around Black Men as Arbiter of Power, so diminished we are in many aspects of society that the idea of it often seems ludicrous. As a sociologist, I know better. We often take for granted the various social contracts that exist. I’m reminded of Goffman’s “On Face Work.” What is intriguing, saddening, for me at times is when we, the subway commuters, pedestrians, become confused on what mask we should wear, what face we wish to display. Consequently, we choose to wear none.

Forgive yourself. Your dogged determination to ensure the welfare of that sister shows your quality. Your bravery may inspire her to find the courage to put on a new mask, negotiate a new contract.

You and I are on a similar path of self-discovery: when the familiar becomes increasingly uncomfortable. The “normal” parameters of engagement evokes a disquiet in the soul. I, too, have now answers.

Forgive me, too.

I happen to be facing the same quandary as you a few days ago. I actually put myself in between a raging argument that had already resulted in some violence. I stated to the brother in question that this wasn't the way. I found myself speaking, assertively, to this man – channeling a “social conscience” that I hoped would assuade him (and the sister as well) to reevaluate their situation.

It worked. I can't give credit to my oratory or my persuasive skills; I believe I distracted them both for just the right amount of time, while piquing the curiosity of others, which led to a disengagement – both parties separating.

I told the sister what Lauryn told all of us:

“Baby Girl, respect is just a minimum…”

It is often difficult to wrap my head around Black Men as Arbiter of Power, so diminished we are in many aspects of society that the idea of it often seems ludicrous. As a sociologist, I know better. We often take for granted the various social contracts that exist. I'm reminded of Goffman's “On Face Work.” What is intriguing, saddening, for me at times is when we, the subway commuters, pedestrians, become confused on what mask we should wear, what face we wish to display. Consequently, we choose to wear none.

Forgive yourself. Your dogged determination to ensure the welfare of that sister shows your quality. Your bravery may inspire her to find the courage to put on a new mask, negotiate a new contract.

You and I are on a similar path of self-discovery: when the familiar becomes increasingly uncomfortable. The “normal” parameters of engagement evokes a disquiet in the soul. I, too, have now answers.

Forgive me, too.