Do You Muse???? Riding Along The Shore…

One of the silver linings since the pandemic has started has been the opportunity to connect more with my family in fun activities. One of those activities is bike riding, where we exploring different paths and trails in the East Bay. Riding enables me to connect with the outdoors and breath in fresh air while getting some of the exercise I would get during spin classes.

Yesterday, while the family was resting, I decided to do a solo ride from Oakland to Alameda. I was excited by the prospect of physically and mentally pushing myself as I explored the path from the MLK shoreline to Bay Island. Bag on my back with snacks and water ready, I took off down the bike lane to enjoy the morning ride. Other “cyclists”, ranging from youngsters with their parents to older people exercising and enjoying the coastal view of the Bay were out as well.

The Alameda shoreline is beautiful and borders a very affluent neighborhood, where most residents purchased their homes with the intent of having a birdseye view of the Bay in mind. I rode along the shore in Alameda and saw a beautiful mix of faces looking back with friendly eyes. On my way back to Oakland, I turned onto an exit path off the shoreline to continue my excursion on the smoothly paved streets.. I’m not overly familiar with the local roads but I figured they would eventually lead me back to the thruway.

While on my ride through the neighborhood, an unexpected but familiar pang hit me. Multiple emotions crept up and I immediately rushed back to the main shoreline path. My “black-person-spidey-senses” told me that I needed to get back to “safety”.

Safety? I’ll explain.

In this moment, I thought about Ahmaud Aubery, jogging in his Georgia neighborhood for what he would probably call a typical evening run. For Ahmaud, the only problem was this was no ordinary evening at all. While he jogged that evening, on what most people would consider a quiet neighborhood block, a white father and son jumped in their truck, vigilante style, and hunted him like a wounded animal. Along with a fellow resident (who was also white), they shot and killed Mr. Aubery.

Back to my moment.

While the relatively quiet island community of Alameda doesn’t necessarily present as dangerous in this way, I’m sure Ahmaud’s neighborhood didn’t either. I processed the thought of the locals responding to the visual of a black man riding through a predominately white neighborhood and I knew in my gut that I had to get back to the shoreline….. immediately. At least there, I felt a bit more comfortable. I rode back on the shoreline, saw plenty of friendly eyes riding with the wind in their faces and headed back to Oakland.

Being black means thinking about all of these things, gauging potential danger to your body at every turn and making snap decisions about the potential threats you may face. I called the audible for me to get back to the mainline because, with all things concerned, it’s a better bet than navigating an unfamiliar neighborhood hoping that someone or some people do not overreact to your mere presence. Privilege is never having to think about these things and having a mind and body free and clear of these distractions.

Then again, sometimes you don’t have time to think about the imminent threat. Just ask Patrick Warren Sr’s family.