This is just a little thought experiment: I'm putting myself in somebody else's position for a second and running a conversation. Or more accurately, rerunning it.

So here's the conversation. I'm at what they call a post performance listening party, not unprecedented, this group seems to like to do that. I find it a little odd but that's just me. This time they actually have a video of the performance and, thankfully, it's kind of low res so it's not really about how you look or what you did while you were up there it's more like just a vague visual. We can see our conductor from behind and she's doing her job, waving her arms, obviously, which is no surprise.

But what I did to the conductor at the end of the post party is this:

I thought before I spoke. 

Getting adept at not rehearsing serves mostly because what you say is more quote unquote authentic. Ironically you gotta cultivate that spontaneity in order for it to be less likely that you will put your foot into your goddam mouth. It's counter-intuitive.

O woe. The concept went by the wayside, sadly, in the effort to deliver my goodbye piece to this splendid musician. More a function of my anxiety than malicious intent.

I thought.

Having taken a very short and yet too long scrap of time to prepare, I stepped into her line of sight and approached, saying you know, you scared the crap out of me first off. I am a little bit handsy so I had my fingers lightly on her shoulders. She did not recoil.

I took my hands down and she raised her hands up, as though to say what is this about? Seemed the specter of her presence being terrifying caused her to react defensively. She's a grandmother after all—not like she would take that role with me—but I could see the part of her that considers itself gentle and caring. That's simply not the way she comes off as a conductor. I don't think she wants to know that, hence the reactivity.

But here's the thought experiment: what if she had been white? Is her general demeanor any different because she is a not-small, dark-skinned, assertive woman with a powerful presence, resonant voice and resting disapproval face and she's in front of a sea of white singers? If that's what I picked up on initially and if that's what I confronted her with I can see where I stepped in a doo doo, but ya know, saying something honest from a place of a somewhat unique position in the ensemble—I never worked with her before, had no idea what to expect, and she herself was returning after a pandemic related absence but had been their conductor for 15 years—as I said to follow up on my comment about being scared of her, I'm an outsider, that's where this is coming from.

Rats. Fuck. Does that mean I don't get to be honest? There's certainly something to be said about care and prudence.

It only occurs to me after the fact that what I said might be just straight up triggering. For all intents and purposes that is stumble bum white privilege.

Standing in my shoes, I have absolutely no idea what it must be like for somebody Black to be told that they are scary. Even if it's occurring in a bland rehearsal hall and my fear is coming from imposter syndrome. I also said I thought you were going to eat me alive (a bit hyperbolic frankly). Now see? We're again in reactive territory. Me knowing that someone is carrying around a PhD to my little undergrad literal BM BS is fucking intimidating.

So no, this is not a street fight. This is me defending myself, once again, as the hillbilly rises up to push back against Academia. And taking race out of the equation we've got two sides against each other, instead of in harmony.

But I don't think she saw it that way. Pretty sure she didn't.

My bad.