Respect

I live in Annapolis, MD, very close to the downtown area. Two-to-three hundred-year-old buildings line Main Street downtown, housing quaint boutiques, tourist shops, sushi joints and numerous pubs. At the base of Main Street are the docks, where upper and upper-middle class folks tie up motor boats, sailboats and impressive yachts while visiting our little old town. Tourists of various income levels love to take a turn riding on water taxis, visiting historic sites and generally buying everything in sight. If you've never been here, I recommend a visit. It's quite lovely.

However, most tourists probably won't visit my street. That's despite the fact that it is also a historic street; the house I live in is about seventy years old and was reportedly once a boarding house for musicians including Pearl Bailey and Lena Horne. (There's an old player piano in the house - I wonder who played it?!) It's also a depressed area of town, and its residents are about 90% African American. The area once thrived, but when the city decided to erect a parking structure where some of the old black music clubs stood, the area lost its primary source of revenue and fell victim to poverty and urban blight.

Things are looking up on my street. While many Annapolitans associate the area with crime, there actually isn't much reported violent crime. A large Habitat for Humanity project is almost complete, and grateful residents already live in some of the houses. And there is a sense of community among my neighbors, many of whose families have lived here for generations. I am a white woman, and I have heard some white Annapolitans say they are afraid of our neighborhood, but my friends from Washington, DC visit without incident. In fact, while I feel that I am perceived as being quite different from others on my street because of the color of my skin and perhaps because of my education level, I also generally feel welcome. I think a lot of this has to do with the fact that my family and I aren't trying to change the neighborhood or trying to do or be something we're not. We're just a little down on our luck right now, just as many of our neighbors are, and that's why we're here. No pretenses. We respect our neighbors and they respect us. It's not perfect, but it generally works.

Recently this attitude of respect became more apparent, particularly in comparison with the crowds that flock downtown in the summer. I am currently employed as "Ghost Tour" guide in downtown Annapolis. I wear 18th century costume which is hot and unpleasant in addition to a bit of scary make-up. I don't look my best, and that's the point. When I give a tour, I have to put on my costume and walk up my street in order to get downtown to the docks where my tours begin. And I've begun to notice a pattern.

My neighbors were curious about my costume and asked about it at first, and they quickly understood it's a part of my job. Now most are used to it, although children do stare as they say hello. Even people who don't know me have been very courteous as I walk through my neighborhood looking rather strange. I can think of only one teenage boy who made a joke, and his friend actually gently objected to his remark.

When I get downtown, though, I sometimes get rude remarks. I'd say I get at least one rude remark every time I walk downtown in costume. People shout from their car windows and make loud comments as they pass me on the sidewalk. They clearly think they are being funny, but they aren't. The tone of their remarks is completely disrespectful. What's more, all these people, without exception, have had one thing in common. They have all been visibly well-off white men in their twenties. These are guys in polo shirts, shorts and deck shoes or leather flip-flops. It's obvious to any adult that I'm working, which makes me wonder if these guys have ever even had a job. I also suspect, from some of their remarks, that they do not respect women very much.

So what is going on here? I wonder. I will say that I am thinking a lot about the intersection between race and class and gender. But I am not really sure I have an answer yet.