The night I experienced culture shock

When my husband and I had been married for only a few years, he began taking me to nightclubs on the weekends I felt at home because the other couples and individuals who frequented these clubs were for the most part working-class black folk having a good time just like us. I enjoyed dressing up, fixing my hair and makeup, and going out with my spouse. Around 1987 my husband started going out alone on occasion or with my youngest brother.

I began hearing the two of them talking about a club they had been frequenting named Baby Son's. When I asked my husband why he never took me there he would say I did not belong. I pointed out that he and my brother were going so why was I left behind but got no answer? One night I decided to find out what was taking place at Baby Son's for myself so after my husband left, I got my brother to babysit and I dressed up and went out.

The 3 clubs that we frequented together were all located off of main streets but Baby Son's was in what looked to be a vacant lot off of a side street. There was a low-income apartment complex to the right and a few working-class houses to the left. I guess you could say it was right in the middle of the hood. I grew up in the county without running water, indoor toilets, or heat except for a coal stove. Most houses in the area where I lived as a child probably should have been condemned so I am not judging anyone's social status. I am addressing the aura that was around this club.

When I pulled up to park my car the hair stood up on the back of my neck and a feeling of dread came over me. I was nervous as I walked to the building which looked like an old garage. It was dark and there was only the light of a nearby streetlight. I saw my husband's car so I knew he was inside. I thought of a book I had read called GOD BESS THE CHILD. In this story, a young lady described 3 types of clubs on The Avenue near her house during the 1960s.

The first was a place where blues music was played and everyone was overdressed, sipping their drinks, and seemed to be putting on airs. The second was a dance hall connected to a restaurant where the average working person went to get away from it all. The third was in the basement of abuilding on the seedy side of the street where according to the book, numbers runner, pimps, drug dealers, and addicts hung out. It was a place where arguments and fights broke out all the time.

I would say that Baby Son's was somewhere between number 2 and number 3 but on that night as far as I was concerned it was the latter. The other establishments that my husband and I frequented had enough light inside so that you could see what you were doing and there were strobe lights and disco balls on the dance floor, One look at Baby Son's as I neared the door and I knew what was meant by a hole in the wall. I don't mean to disrespect anyone but the people standing outside looked really rough and I did not recognize any of them.

No one was dressed up and I did not smell perfume or cologne. I wanted to say "Toto we are not in Kansas anymore" but I had no companion with me. I was on edge and everything in me was sending me messages of "danger danger, warning, warning". I went through the entrance and immediately knew this was not the place for me and I experienced a culture shock.

My husband and I had over the years attended dances, parties, and concerts in addition to going to the clubs that I mentioned earlier. I always enjoyed myself and felt relaxed. This place, however, was very different and was actually a step down from the venues I was used to attending with my spouse. I knew immediately that those who came here did so to do things they could not at the legal nightspots.

I did not smoke, drink, or do drugs and when I went to the other clubs with my spouse I enjoyed myself by dancing with him. I noticed that many of those around me had adhered to BYOB which meant bring your own bottle of alcohol and there were some people who smoked which was normal for a nightclub. At Baby Son's the smells of alcohol, cigarettes, and marijuana filled the air. I heard a lot of cursing and wondered what on earth I was doing at such a place and why did my husband and brother like it?

As I made it inside I did recognize 2 or 3 people but they were completely different than when I saw them at the other clubs. It seemed that everyone at this place was staggering drunk and or high. I heard music but could not make out a dance floor or a DJ. It was almost pitch black but light enough that I could see that once again my face was the lightest in the room. I felt out of place and all alone and as if everyone was staring at me. Here I was a mild-mannered, teetotaling high yellow, Sunday School teacher out in the night without her spouse and I knew I never should have come.

I only made it a few feet past the door and did not even try to find my spouse. I got out of there and went home as quickly as I could. The song "Why am I such a misfit" from Rudolph the red nose reindeer came to mind. Once again, I just did not fit in with African American culture. I was too light skinned too quite overdressed and did not partake of the vices that were being offered. I was pretty rattled because when I was there I could sense danger all around and knew it was not the place for me.

When my husband came home I told him what I had done and he asked me not to go there again. I was angry that he and my brother could fit in with any crowd and I could not. Years later I was told that Baby Son's was shut down because there was no liquor licence and after a police raid where drugs were found so my instincts were right. Even so, although others were comfortable in that atmosphere and took their chances just to have a night out, I experienced a true culture shock.