Travel
The Seat Not Taken
by JOHN EDGAR WIDEMAN
At least twice a week I ride Amtrak's high-speed Acela train from my home in New York City to my teaching job in Providence, R.I. The route passes through a region of the country populated by, statistics tell us, a significant segment of its most educated, affluent, sophisticated and enlightened citizens.
Over the last four years, excluding summers, I have conducted a casual sociological experiment in which I am both participant and observer. It's a survey I began not because I had some specific point to prove by gathering data to support it, but because I couldn't avoid becoming aware of an obvious, disquieting truth.
Almost invariably, after I have hustled aboard early and occupied one half of a vacant double seat in the usually crowded quiet car, the empty place next to me will remain empty for the entire trip.
I'm a man of color, one of the few on the train and often the only one in the quiet car, and I've concluded that color explains a lot about my experience. Unless the car is nearly full, color will determine, even if it doesn't exactly clarify, why 9 times out of 10 people will shun a free seat if it means sitting beside me.
Giving them and myself the benefit of the doubt, I can rule out excessive body odor or bad breath; a hateful, intimidating scowl; hip-hop clothing; or a hideous deformity as possible objections to my person. Considering also the cost of an Acela ticket, the fact that I display no visible indications of religious preference and, finally, the numerous external signs of middle-class membership I share with the majority of the passengers, color appears to be a sufficient reason for the behavior I have recorded.
Of course, I'm not registering a complaint about the privilege, conferred upon me by color, to enjoy the luxury of an extra seat to myself. I relish the opportunity to spread out, savor the privacy and quiet and work or gaze at the scenic New England woods and coast. It's a particularly appealing perk if I compare the train to air travel or any other mode of transportation, besides walking or bicycling, for negotiating the mercilessly congested Northeast Corridor.
Still, in the year 2010, with an African-descended, brown president in the White House and a nation confidently asserting its passage into a postracial era, it strikes me as odd to ride beside a vacant seat, just about every time I embark on a three-hour journey each way, from home to work and back.
I admit I look forward to the moment when other passengers, searching for a good seat, or any seat at all on the busiest days, stop anxiously prowling the quiet-car aisle, the moment when they have all settled elsewhere, including the ones who willfully blinded themselves to the open seat beside me or were unconvinced of its availability when they passed by. I savor that precise moment when the train sighs and begins to glide away from Penn or Providence Station, and I'm able to say to myself, with relative assurance, that the vacant place beside me is free, free at last, or at least free until the next station. I can relax, prop open my briefcase or rest papers, snacks or my arm in the unoccupied seat.
But the very pleasing moment of anticipation casts a shadow, because I can't accept the bounty of an extra seat without remembering why it's empty, without wondering if its emptiness isn't something quite sad. And quite dangerous, also, if left unexamined. Posters in the train, the station, the subway warn: if you see something, say something.
John Edgar Wideman is a Professor of Africana Studies and Literary Arts at Brown and the author, most recently, of "Briefs."
[Courtesy: New York Times]
October 14, 2010
Conversation about this article
1: Aman (California, U.S.A.), October 14, 2010, 2:21 PM.
A great article. It reminds me of the days when I use to ride the bus to and from school. No one wanted to sit beside a turbaned Sikh. They would rather stand all the way along. Then one day, to my surprise, the hottest girl in school school got in and came and sat RIGHT BESIDE ME! I was obviously on cloud nine. She didn't talk to me though. That would have been too much! On a more serious note, I wonder how many Sikhs feel the same way as this African American Professor?
2: T. Sher Singh (Mount Forest, Ontario, Canada), October 14, 2010, 2:32 PM.
I have experienced the same as the author through the four decades I have lived in North America. It is a phenomenon prevalent in the UK and North America, but not in the rest of the world. Also, it is limited to white males (with exceptions, always, of course). But I have found that women have no such hesitation. Frankly, I couldn't have asked for a better arrangement: I have always found the company of women more interesting, I must confess. Theories about why white males shy away from Sardars? I think when they find themselves sitting next to a very male male - beard, turban and all that does it - it makes them feel a bit inadequate and deficient.
3: Ajay Singh (Rockville, Maryland, U.S.A.), October 14, 2010, 2:50 PM.
I can certainly relate to the author. For over a year I took the Metro from Rockville to downtown D.C. and 90% of the time I sat with an empty seat beside me. Occupied only when it was almost foolish to leave the seat empty. But only by older citizens, occasional younger Americans, but never - and I mean, never - by an Indian, young or old man. Indian females would not even stand anywhere near the empty seat. It was quite an interesting experience.
4: T. Sher Singh (Mount Forest, Ontario, Canada), October 14, 2010, 2:59 PM.
So true, Ajay. The phenomenon re Indian women is easily explained. In India's culture still - where the opposite sexes have yet to learn how to interact with each other freely in a social setting - if a woman is seen alone with another male, the implications are that they are well on their way to getting married ... to each other, that is! Or worse! Therefore, in public anywhere in the diaspora, if an Indian woman sits next to a non-Indian, no such innuendo follows. India's warped inter-sex mores become life-long baggage for the desis.
5: Sangat Singh (Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia), October 14, 2010, 3:05 PM.
I think there is progress already and we are on the way to full occupancy. The last time M. K. Gandhi then turbaned and an English Barrister holding a first class ticket, boarded the train at Pietermaritz, the capital of Natal (South Africa), he was unceremoniously thrown out as only whites could sit in first class compartments. That was 1893. Or, on a more encouraging note there was a story when a white woman refused to sit next to a black man on a BA flight and protested vehemently that she be moved elsewhere. The Captain of he flight did just that and helpfully upgraded the black man to the first class to minimize the chance of infection to the white woman.
6: Dr. Birinder Singh Ahluwalia (Toronto, Ontario, Canada), October 14, 2010, 9:11 PM.
Without stirring any misconceptions, I actually welcome having an empty seat next to me for a variety of reasons (I am sure most of you are familiar with them) - the most important being able to have the extra space to stretch my legs, even spread myself out in a plane to sleep comfortably, etc. Or am I missing something here, like an important point or something, re color discrimination the author or others are attempting to make. I guess everyone perceives the empty seat in different ways.
7: Kanwarjeet Singh (Franklin Park, New Jersey, U.S.A.), October 14, 2010, 11:42 PM.
Here is a theory and I have experienced this many a time (or not experienced it - depends on which way you look at it). I have never had an empty seat next to me whether on a bus or a train. A lot of my Indian friends tell me that they never get smiled at in NJ or NY while I seldom face that. The theory here, my friends, is that you will experience as you feel - if you think no one is smiling at you or saying hello, it's because you are thinking so and in doing just that you have by your facial expressions conveyed the same to the other party. Similarly, if you sit in a train or a bus and keep thinking that no one is going to sit next to me as I am black, brown, turbaned, bearded or just plain different, then believe me, you are going to express just that on your face and everyone else will sense it. The human sixth sense is the most highly developed and least understood senses. Ever imagine why a dog barks at one stranger and cozies up to the other - it is because the dog can sense the fear or love inside the person. The more you feel victimized or discriminated, the greater your experience as this author's was. I have traveled as a young turbaned Sikh in my 20s and 30s in states such as Kansas, Kentucky (yes, the Aryan nation country), through Tennessee, Arkansas, being pulled over by a cop for speeding in rural Indiana, and Wyoming, but I have never had any displeasure of being discriminated. So please open your minds to not being victims and you will feel brotherly love everywhere - by blacks, whites and Asians alike. Peace!
8: Satinder Singh (New Jersey, U.S.A.), October 15, 2010, 11:57 AM.
Very nicely pu,t Kanwarjeet Singh, very nicely put. If people don't choose to sit next to you, its because ... they choose not to sit next to you. That's all. That's all you need to know. Growing up in New Jersey, and taking the train and subway to/ in New York City, I always choose to stand or offer my seat to the first female when the seats are taken. And now I teach the same to my two young boys. Chivalry looks great and is all the more noble and respectful when you have a turban. I have done the same in buses in Punjab, Delhi and Mexico, and trains in the UK, France, Greece, Hong Kong and Canada. Stay in Chardi Kalaa!
9: Harminder Singh (California, U.S.A.), October 15, 2010, 8:52 PM.
I have to agree, it is a lot more liberating when you don't perceive yourself as the victim all the time. Live in chardi kalaa, as the gurus taught us. If life gives you an empty seat, spread out on it. I sometimes hang out with my friend who is "sensitive" to this. He is always mad that someone looked at him wierdly or mockingly smiled at him, etc., etc. As a result, he is always angry with the world. I am not saying that there is no prejudice or discrimination in this world, but being constantly burdened by it is no way to live. Our Gurus gave us the perfect antidote to this: chardi kalaa. Your spirit of chardi kalaa is manifested by "your" outlook on life, not by others. I feel sorry for the people who choose to stand rather than sit beside the author on the train. It is their minds that are crippled by prejudice, misinformation and misplaced fear.
10: Ken (London, United Kingdom), November 13, 2010, 8:11 AM.
I have noticed this happens to me in London on the train daily. Every seat will be taken before the seat next to me is used. But if I put my bag on the seat next to me, I immediately get someone who takes pleasure in asking me to move my bag. It's quite funny.