I grew up with the love of football, and you can catch me on any given Sunday (Fridays, Saturdays, and Mondays, as well) watching some of my favorite teams and/or players on the field. As a dedicated fan of the Seahawks and many of the players including Tyler Lockett (whom I affectionately call “The Kid”), DK Metcalf, Julian Love, and Jaxon Smith-Njigba, to name a few, we have also followed Tua Tagovailoa since his ‘Bama days, and was looking forward to seeing him play in person during the Seahawks vs. Miami Dolphins game on my birthday recently. Sadly, due to his most recent injury, Tua was unable to play. We are grateful he is taking the time to heal and decide his next steps; praying it will be what God wants him to do to be healthy for his growing family.
It was a beautiful sunny day, with an electric atmosphere in anticipation of a good game. We were in awesome seats (thanks to longtime friends who are season ticket holders) and had secured some delicious food to enjoy. We participated in the jumbotron activities, danced to the music that was playing, and was excited to take in all things a good football game brings in person. A woman and her niece were sitting in the row in front of us to the right, and she was very excited because she was attending her first Seahawks game. They were both wearing Metcalf jerseys, singing and dancing to the music like we were, and having a good time throughout the game, until late in the fourth quarter.
Seattle was up by a number of points. Me and my daughter, Tia noticed when three people who came to visit occupants of the seats in front of us arrived, which was distracting as we were unable to see the game while they were standing up shuffling around. They finally settled into seats and one of them, who was obviously intoxicated, was speaking very loudly and making jokes that we couldn’t hear. Shortly afterwards, there was a commotion in front of us that could not be ignored.
The woman was standing up, yelling and pointing her finger at the inebriated man. It happened so fast that we were caught off guard and were trying to understand what was going on. Then I heard her say, “Move! You aren’t supposed to be here anyway. I heard you call me fat, after I said you were sitting on my leg. You said, if I wasn’t so fat I wouldn’t be taking up two seats, so you could sit down. LEAVE! This isn’t where you’re supposed to be anyway. Stop making fun of me, or I’ll beat your a&*.” He was saying some things back to her, laughing and acting as if he wasn’t going to move, though he eventually did. After the two men left, the woman who was with them stayed behind. We couldn’t hear what she was saying, but she appeared to be trying to deescalate the situation and calm the woman down. Across the aisle, another man had his phone out and may have been recording the incident, which upset the woman even further. “You’re over there recording me, and it’ll probably end up on Tik Tok, when you don’t even know what happened. Instead of helping, you want to hurt me too.”
At that moment, what I heard went beyond the anger she was expressing; I could FEEL and identify with her pain and knew that I needed to say something to her. The old saying of “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me” is a lie that we have been taught for generations. Not only do words hurt, but WORDS MATTER, and they can last a lot longer depending on the circumstances, as they cut to our very core.
As a child and later as an adult, amongst many things, I was teased for being too Black (because of the melanin in my skin), too White (because I spoke “proper”), too fat (“Shamu, the whale” was a favorite used by my bullies), and/or too country (because I spoke with a noticeable Southern accent after moving to the Pacific Northwest). It was that pain that rose up in me while listening to her last statement. Though she was still willing to fight, I also recognized the vulnerability that comes with constantly having to protect oneself from hurt and harm, while others sit or stand by taking it all in as a source of entertainment, acts as if it isn’t happening, or ignoring it as best they can because they want to pretend like it doesn’t bother or concern them.
As my soul cried out, I reached over the seat and gave her a hug. She began to cry and say that she was “tired of it, and people just don’t understand”. I shared with her that as a “Fluffy” person (carrying extra on my body) most of my life, what I came to realize is that it’s not what people called me, but what I answered to that mattered and still matters today. I let her know that it doesn’t mean it’ll hurt less at the time, but as you begin to know, believe and trust in your value and worth, it will sting less and you will be able to see that it’s not about you, but the insecurities that are within those doing the hurt and harm. For me, I now know that I have been exquisitely designed in the image that God made just for me: A dark-skinned, educated, fluffy Black Queen, who’s proud of her Southern roots and the IMPACT she will leave as her legacy.
This behavior should bother and concerns ALL of us, and if you are someone who has not been affected in this way, hold on, because you or someone you hold dear may be, given our current state of affairs. Now is the time where we need to stand up and tap in with those who may be fighting the good fight but could use support to let people know that we are better and stronger together. Allowing hurt and harm to go unchecked is one of the reasons our world is where it is today.
Let’s connect to unpack the hurt, heal the harm and find ways to safely show up when we are bystanders (and how to dismantle becoming unintentional bullies), so that we stand in our truth, power and purpose, to be the change we need to see in this world and for our future leaders.
ESTEP Consulting, LLC 
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