The Innocent Nightclub

The atmosphere was electric with anticipation. Music pulsed from hidden speakers, jarring the heart and vibrating the lungs. DJ churning fast-paced tunes; the dancers’ thirst unrequited. The dance floor undulated like anemone in the currents washing over a reef.  An occasional errant dancer bounced around as if the floor was glowing coals.  A typical Saturday evening at a local club brought together an eclectic gathering of revelers.  The bar was bustling; patrons double-parked, crowding the aisle between the restaurant and the piano bar.  In a separate room filled to capacity, the pianist played show tunes and patrons sang lustfully.

Dancers spilled out onto the veranda to cool overheated bodies. The typical weekend blowing off steam from the frustrations of the workweek was anything but typical.  Sitting in a rattan chair situated on the outskirts of the monolithic crowd I surveyed the activity.  Everyone was enjoying the evening without incident.  Men and women danced, together and in groups.  Everyone respected their tiny bastion of active space.  As bar patrons moved through the dance floor destined for the veranda, dancers parted kindly. This was a safe place; a place anyone could come to enjoy an evening of fun and conversation without incident.  No testosterone sprays; no overexposed bodies and no overt courting activities.  This was a place where the vocally endowed could showcase their capabilities before an admiring audience of friends and acquaintances.  A place where old friendships were rekindled and new friendships formed.

I like the place; frequented it. I felt safe. But was I?  I couldn’t help but wonder who else among this throng was casting a shadow of doubt. The thought of all of these defenseless people enjoying the evening oblivious to the risks made me wonder if my concern was futile.  It was definitely not misplaced.  Given the post-election polarization, it was as if a change in the political tide had awakened previously dormant hatred. The crowd control staff were more visible since the most recent nightclub attacks.  A security guard checked identification.  I think his presence was designed to calm any fears.  I wasn’t sure he’d be much of a deterrent against a determined terrorist; but was there really any way to stop a person who was willing sacrifice their future for the twisted belief that killing was not only noble but sacred?

Turning my thoughts away from wariness and back to the evening, I smiled at friends sharing the seating group.  The music drowned out any attempt at conversation.  Booth seating bordering the far end of the bar was perfect for conversation.  I made my way there to catch up with my besties.  My friends and I represent people of color, people of various nationalities and cultures, different preferences and identities, people expressing authenticity in the face of pockets of mounting bigotry, prejudice and discrimination.  We’re human and not really different from anyone outside our circles of friends.  People call us different, strange, unbelievable.  Yes, we’re not your grandfather’s generation, although we lived then, flying under the radar of public opinion.  We live, breathe, laugh, cry, celebrate and mourn.

Now, we’re no longer willing to subvert our authenticity for the sake of the minority.  Yes, it’s the minority that attempts to maintain the status quo; the gospel according to them.  We’re more than a compilation of unconventional.  We embody diversity and inclusion.  We’re the people that make diversity sing arias.  Lack of understanding and succumbing to biases and prejudice grease the skids of rejection, violence and hatred in the name of preserving the crumbling foundation of the old guard.  We fight for human rights because we’re human. We’re the people of the 21^st century.  Our activities, activism, advocacy, living in the open, all create opportunities for current and future generations to live in peace.  Consider the value of tearing down artificial emotional and intellectual walls that separate people.  Consider the wondrous opportunities to learn and teach.  Therein lies the opportunity; opportunities that present themselves every moment of every day.

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Nikki DiCaro is a freelance writer, advocate, speaker and trainer on unconditional equality, diversity and inclusion.  Her organization, DiCaro Consulting LLC, works with individuals and organizations to support diversity and inclusion.  You can find her at her website, on Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter.