Gyasi Ross: Racism and white privilege at nearly 30,000 feet

Last month, I had a big business meeting in NYC and also a reading for my new book “How to Say I Love You in Indian” (available at www.cutbankcreekpress.com and at amazon.com!! Get it today!!) at the American Indian Community House in Midtown Manhattan. For some inexplicable reason, there are/was some television exec-type folks interested in me doing more television work. Look, I’m from the rez—we’re hunter-gatherers. If someone is willing to give me free food AND an opportunity to provide for my family and me, I’m definitely going to be there.

The lunch meeting was Thursday the 12th at noon. I usually fly red-eyes when I go across country so that I can tuck my son in to bed and spend as much time with him before I leave. This time, however, I wanted to be well-prepared and rested, so I flew in the night before, on December 11th. Give myself some time to get ready instead of rushing around—I’m ready for the cameras, NYC!!!

First half of the flight was cool, or as “cool” as a flight making your reservations a couple of days before your flight can be. I’m in my comfortable, flying clothes—camouflage sweats, camouflage sweatshirt, braids, and a skullcap. It was on Southwest—whom I’ve flown a million times, simply because they SOMETIMES have cheaper flights AND, most importantly, I don’t have to pay separately for bags. I know that I still pay for them, but it’s just not a separate charge.

And I appreciate that.

First leg of the flight was from Seattle to Chicago. No problem—I get off the plane for my 4-hour layover (no, seriously) and go get an all-beef dog at Chicago O’Hare.

The second leg of my flight. Ugh.