Traveling While Black: Standing Up for Myself and My Daughter

On my flight home from visiting my family, my daughter and I were called animals. I contemplated whether I should write about this for a few days but I think it's important. It has been bothering me. It's not tech-related at all.

This trip was supposed to be a happy one – a quick escape to see family because of the past weeks of the loss of my uncle and my grandmother. Thanks to those who extended condolences. It was to be followed by the joy of returning home to my husband, who we wish could have joined us. As a Black woman navigating the world, there's always a chance for a seemingly ordinary experience to turn sideways (if you're not aware). I keep sharing these stories because ignorance is truly bliss. I'm also a proponent on sharing these because we, as a society, need to do better. We can all stop pretending these don't occur.

The return flight started well. My four-year-old, naturally full of energy, charmed most passengers. She's awesome, she thrives on people who thinks she's funny. There's nothing I can do about it. But the travel delay we had to our connection meant we couldn't use the restroom before boarding, and the excitement of take-off was quickly overshadowed by a rude awakening (literally).

The well-dressed couple in front of us reclined their seats immediately during takeoff, crushing my laptop I had in the pocket of the seat and my hopes of getting any work done. Just as I prepped to keep my daughter entertained, the woman in front of us began yelling. Apparently, my daughter, who hadn't even reached the seat in front of her, had been "kicking" them. Her legs weren't long enough from where I had her buckled in. Turbulence had rattled the plane, but according to them, we were the source of their discomfort. Before I could explain that, the woman called us animals.

Having been the childless passenger myself, I was always mindful of not disturbing others. Now, the roles were reversed, and the expectation of basic respect seemed to vanish.

"She's a toddler," I explained calmly. The response? More yelling, this time from both of them. They complained about their lack of sleep. It was a surreal moment, a reminder of the additional burdens Black women often face. I responded, "I'm not at fault for your lack of sleep." By that time, we were at altitude so I asked the guy who was sitting next to me to pass through and took my daughter to the bathroom. I figured I would talk to the flight attendant when I got back. I was absolutely angry at the rest of the people who sat around us who were silent—including the guy sitting next to me. I personally would have spoke up if I was in his shoes.

My daughter was very confused of what was happening and asked me why the woman yelled at us. "Some people are unhappy MJ* and maybe she'll be happy tomorrow." I couldn't cry in front of her. I know I'll have some uncomfortable conversations with my biracial child in the future but didn't expect it at age 4. For example, why so many people had to stop me specifically on the trip to compliment how she looks like me—no kiddin'. I wasn't the only mother with a child with a cute child. They felt comfortable enough to approach me. Do people approach each parent to let them know their child looks like them?

Anyway, the flight attendant was there when I returned. While the couple fabricated a story about our behavior in a desperate attempt to get upgraded, I remained composed. The truth was on my side, and the flight attendant, one of the many beautiful Black women on staff, saw through their charade. She checked in with me each time she came through the aisle.

The rest of the flight was peaceful. I adjusted my tray table without guilt and enjoyed the quiet moments with my daughter. The flight attendant's support was a balm, a reminder that kindness and understanding still exist. Plus, in those situations, wouldn't the mother and child get upgraded anyway? I am so happy I hadn't gotten the chance to compliment that woman initially. When they were in front of us they did seem like they were coming from somewhere. I can only assume they spent that night partying—oh well.

For childless passengers: toddlers will be toddlers. Respectful communication goes a long way. For parents: know that you're not alone. For everyone: a little empathy can make all the difference.

For those new to the world of parenthood:

• Red-eyes might be your friend if you are single and need some sort of peace: Flights departing late at night often have fewer children on board.
• Consider first class (if you can): It may not be for everyone, but if peace and quiet are paramount, it's an option. Or just understand you are in a public place.
• Most importantly, be kind: We're all just trying to get somewhere. A little understanding goes a long way in making the journey smoother for everyone. You're in public. Don't be entitled.

Your seat also could be shaking from turbulence. Get over it.

*MJ is what my daughter is called on social media.