WoKeisha’s Revenge
28 October 2021; 3:44pm
Winners, A TJX Company, Toronto
On this fateful day, I made a quick stop at my local Winners. My experience was humiliating and disturbing.
As I entered the store, I almost bumped into the security man at the door, a medium built brown man in a grey uniform. He seemed pleasant enough. This surprised me however. I had never seen security at the store — I’m a regular there — but I didn’t pay much attention to the anomaly at the time. I began my usual walk through the store, stopping every so often to look at the items that caught my eye. In accessories, I tried on some gold chain belts. I decided against the first and left the second still hanging, contemplating the purchase. “If I’m still thinking about it before I leave, I’ll buy it.” I said to myself.
My sixth sense peaked as I entered the cosmetics section. Was I being watched? I dismissed it. As I lingered the in section however, I began to notice that the security man’s movements mirrored mine. My first instinct was of course, to confront him. I didn’t. I thought perhaps I was misreading the situation. I decided instead to continue observing his movements. I picked up some highlighters. They were all sealed except one which I opened. The colour was not a match for my complexion. No surprise there. I glimpsed another box in the back and reached for it. It was open too but empty. Stolen.
I left the cosmetics section and continued to wander around the store. As I browsed the contemporary clothing section, I noticed the security man again! Now I was sure he was following me. This was no coincidence. I moved from section to section tailed by the security man. In the shoes section, he took a seat and stretched unconvincingly, as if to rest. He got up to follow me as I left. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. Perhaps it was because of how I was dressed, in a thrifted school girl pleated plaid skirt, a pink sweater, black knee high socks with combat boots, and a green bomber jacket. My hair, which I haven’t worn out in its natural state for over 6 years, put up into cute little afro puffs.
Eventually, tired of the charade I stopped and beckoned over the security man in question. As he approached me I said in a loud voice, “Hi, have you been instructed to follow me?” I wanted the other shoppers to witness our interaction. He looked dismayed and said a hurried no before walking all the way to the other end of the store never to look in my direction again.
I was livid. How many black girls have been made to feel this way? Like common thieves just because of the way they look, wear their hair or choose to dress, most of them not bold enough to speak up.
In that moment, I became WoKeisha -- the angry black woman.
I marched straight to an employee and demanded to speak to a manager. A petite brown woman showed up in less than a minute. She was deeply apologetic and reassured me that this would never happen again. I was dissatisfied with her reassurances but at least I had spoken my piece. As I turned to leave the store, I saw her walking to the back with the security man, perhaps to have a word with him about the dangers of racial profiling. I thought about the gold chain belt as I walked out but I was in no mood to give the store any of my hard earned money, fashion be damned.
As I waited in line at my next stop, I thought about my days working in retail where I participated, shamefully, in racial profiling. At the instruction of the manager, we would watch or follow certain shoppers, often people of colour, as they browsed the store. Common tactics included pretending to work near the suspected thieves and / or boldly greeting them to let them know we had seen their face. Why hadn’t I found issue with this before? Was it because the manager was sometimes right? Or perhaps because they also profiled their own race. Still, it all felt wrong now.
On my way back home, I saw the security man firmly planted by the door at the Winners.
The following day, I returned to purchase the belt I wanted unwilling to “cancel” the store because of the actions of a misguided employee who had hopefully learned their lesson. Any further incidents however may require a different response.
