The Face Off

Sweat dripped off her swollen brow.

Her hair was matted with just a few streaks silver in stretching across the front. Her throat was hoarse, from screaming at coworkers who couldn't tell a ladle from a tong.

For 10 long hours she had been in that restaurant cooking up southern cuisine , and all she wanted to do was come home, relax and watch Regis on Who Wants to be a Millionaire. But sadly, she couldn't. See tonight she had another undertaking. She was about to evict a house guest - one that had overstayed his welcome.

This isn't a novel I'm writing or a short story. This is an actual account of a woman who had to get rid of a relative from her house because he just would not pay rent. This happened around the time I was living in Beaufort back in 2002, and I was asked to take part in this intervention because of my connection to the family.

I'll never forget the look of worry and frustration in her eyes.

"We can't support you," she told her nephew. "You're not doing anything. You're coming in here, you're not doing chores, you're waking up at noon. This can't go on. You need to get a job."

His response was a passive one.

"I'm laid back," he said. "I can't get into the type of stuff that you're talking about. I like to see how life goes and that's it."

She fired back at him and all traces of her weariness were replaced with anger. Her thick Gullah accent bellowed and her words felt like a wooden bat repeatedly striking against unprotected flesh.

"Who do you think pay (yes pay) for this cool air in this house," she yelled. "Who pay for that raid (red) cool-aide you're drinking? Who pay for the water you use to wash your behind? You mean to tell me you too laid back? You need to work or I'll lay you back."

By then tears were streaming from her eyes. Other family members remained silent.

His next response was - "Well I appreciate what you've done for me, but what do you want me to do?"

The response was predictable but still at the same time unexpected. She kicked the young man out - without hesitation I might add.

All my life, I have grown up around individuals that did not work, or did not believe they had to take part in the system to get ahead, and I never had seen a woman stand up to them before.

Here was a woman in her 50s, who had lost her husband, who suffered from swollen extremities because she was on her feet in the sweltering heat of a kitchen each day, and in one instant she was able to take control of her destiny in just two short words.

"Get out."

Throughout time there have been young men who have every excuse in the book before they're willing to participate in working a 9 to 5 job. Some play the race card; some blame the system. They all share the common similarities of sleeping in extremely late and staying up all night long.

These troubled young men seem to suffer from a depression, and a sense of low self esteem coupled with entitlement.

Why should anyone take care of a grown man who is physically able to work and find a job? On this warm Summer night on St. Helena Island, this proud Gullah matriarch answered this question with a definitive answer.

I never found out what became of the young man, nor did I contribute to much of the conversation that night. It was one of those situations that left me speechless.