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Blog archive

September 2026

August 2026

Triumph Over Tragedy
08/31/2026

Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained/Lost
08/30/2026

A Gallery of Neighbors: The Village Art Group’s Group Show
08/28/2026

A New and Improved Way to Stay Safer Online
08/28/2026

A Trip to The Geffen Galleries
08/28/2026

Barrier Free Living - A Path to Living a More Independent Lifestyle
08/28/2026

Conversations with Art
08/28/2026

MESSAGE FROM THE PRESIDENT
08/28/2026

Member Connections with Music Conductor Bill Bing
08/28/2026

Pasadena Heritage Walking Tour
08/28/2026

In Their Hands
08/23/2026

Ease of Being: Managing the stuff of everyday life
08/20/2026

A Tribute to Fire Debris Remediators and Their Super-Sized Dump Trucks
08/18/2026

Really Irene?
08/15/2026

There Is A Risk
08/09/2026

2026 Year in Review
08/03/2026

A Message From Your Newly Elected President
08/03/2026

Neighborhoods Within the Village
08/03/2026

Reflection from PUSD Intern Isabella "Izzy" Roberts
08/03/2026

Reflection on Service & Joy from 2025/26 President Dick Myers
08/03/2026

The Villager Engagement Team Welcomed 54 New Villagers
08/03/2026

Treasurer’s Report
08/03/2026

What Activity! The Cultural Activities Team Report
08/03/2026

An Even Exchange
08/01/2026

July 2026

June 2026

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February 2026

January 2026

Sanctity Denied: A Pasadena Story of Race and Silence

By Lora Harrington-Pride
Posted: 08/18/2025
Tags: lora harrington pride

Sanctity

It was pre-pandemic when I stood in the checkout line at Ralph’s Market on Lake Avenue in Pasadena.

         I stood behind a dark skinned Black man, (lower class, he appeared to be) clutching proudly his 4-6 month old baby girl.

         In front of him stood an upper, middle-class White man (so he appeared to be) in a white shirt, tie, dress slacks and polished leather shoes.

         He turned around and casually studied the Black man and his child.

         “She’s slobbering a lot”, he said to the father, who apologetically explained that the baby was teething.  The man continued, “She must be in pain.”

         The father answered that his baby cried or fussed a lot about it,…especially when she was tired.

         The White stranger placed his rolled up newspaper under his arm, freeing his hands.  He then grasped the infant’s jaw, and inserted his forefinger and his middle finger into her mouth and started messaging her gums, while cooing, “I bet that feels good! doesn’t it? doesn’t it?”

         After about 5 strokes, he removed his fingers, wiped them on the baby’s bib, turned around and stepped forward in line.  The father wore on his face, the combination of a blush and a grin.  He seemed pleased! “a White man thought enough about his baby’s discomfort that he took the time to massage her gums in an attempt to make her feel better!”  This is what his face said…the father’s!

         The White people who witnessed this, looked away so as not to own the responsibility of acting against this obscenity.

         I released my white-knuckle grip on my grocery basket, excused myself and abruptly pushed through the line of people behind me.

         I had to get out of there.  I couldn’t breathe.  I left my grocery-filled basket in the line.

         I made it to my car, I sat until my breathing normalized and my stiffened body relaxed.

         My mind went back to the 1950’s where in Las Vegas the Black singer/actress, Dorothy Dandridge, was staying in a luxurious White hotel, that her promoters had fought to gain her residency.

         The Black actress dipped her toes in the hotel’s swimming pool before she was quickly restrained.

         White bathers witnessed this, and quickly got out of the pool and even left the patio area.  The next day the pool was drained.

         This 4-6 month old Black infant’s mouth (inside of Ralph’s) did not have the sanctity of a hotel’s swimming pool, in Nevada.

         The chlorinated pool could not protect the White adults from the pollution and contamination caused by the Black woman’s toes.  The pool had to be drained.

         My mind then went to what would have happened to that Black man in Ralph’s had he inserted his fingers into the mouth of a White infant – a girl-held in the arms of her father in a supermarket checkout line.

         As a witness to what was done by this White man, a stranger at that, to this Black infant, had I spoken up, I would have wounded that Black father, beyond ever healing.  I did what was best for him and for me.

         I walked away in silence.

                                                                Lora Harrington-Pride

                                                                8/4/25

 

*To see Lora's latest writings, see her Return to Writing post. 

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