By now you've heard of the backlash that brewed over Starbucks' Race Together campaign.
The Seattle-based coffee chain's initiative to open dialogue about racial issues sparked national conversation -- and not the kind it was seeking.
In explaining Race Together, Howard Schultz, Starbucks' white chairman and chief executive officer, said in a statement, "We at Starbucks should be willing to talk about these issues in America. Not to point fingers or to place blame, and not because we have answers, but because staying silent is not who we are."
Staying silent isn't who Twitter users are either. A few of the funnier tweets taking shots (and not double espresso shots) at the since abandoned initiative:
"#IWasOffendedWhen my Starbucks barista asked if I wanted my coffee black or caucasian. #RaceTogether."
"Barista: Your total is $5.45. Me: You can just put that on my reparations tab. Thanks. #raceTogether."
"My Keurig makes delicious coffee and does not lecture me about #RaceTogether."
"I would go to @Starbucks for a #RaceTogether conversation but none of them are in my predominantly black neighborhood. Hmm I wonder why?"
It seems Starbucks' campaign had already united people. In ridicule.
The widely panned campaign, in which baristas write #RaceTogether on customers' cups, has now ended. But before it did, I conducted a highly caffeinated field study, visiting four Little Rock Starbucks last Thursday to survey the state of #RaceTogether.
Starbucks No. 1: 917 S. Broadway
Everyone at the downtown location is very concerned with race, all right -- a race to grab their drinks and get to work, according to the line of cars that stretches out to the street. It is too much togetherness for me, and I race to find less-crowded coffee shops.
Starbucks No. 2: 9401 N. Rodney Parham Road
It's busy, so the white barista doesn't write anything special -- just my name (spelled correctly, so that is kind of special) -- on my latte.
Then I nearly get into a slap fight when another person who comes in after me and makes a move for my Bacon & Gouda Artisan Breakfast Sandwich. But -- a win for Race Together -- it was just another hungry white girl, also named Jennifer.
Starbucks No. 3: Midtowne Little Rock, 201 N. University Ave.
While the store has plenty of seated patrons, I'm the only person at the counter, so the white barista doesn't even bother writing my name, let alone a hashtag slogan, on my iced latte.
I only have this bit of "Ebony and Ivory" color commentary to offer: As I'm leaving, a white man directs his giant black dog to sit outside while he fetches his order; the pooch obeys, waiting expectantly. A white woman comes out and gives him a pat on the head before getting into her car. Aww, #RaceTogether!
Starbucks No. 4: 7525 Cantrell Road
Again, I'm the only one ordering at the register, so a white barista does not bother writing my name or anything special on my cup.
Except the letter "A." What could that mean? My mind starts racing with Race Together possibilities. Albino? Anglo?
Oh, oops, Caffe Americano.
At this point I begin to think Race Together is a bit of a bust. I haven't experienced anything other than business as usual ... and tremors. I never drink coffee, let alone this much.
I query Facebook friends: "Has anyone in AR had a Starbucks barista write #RaceTogether on your cup? Did a meaningful dialogue follow?"
One co-worker reports spotting a Race Together sign and bucket of stickers at a Starbucks -- the very first location I snubbed.
Starbucks No. 1: 917 S. Broadway
I return and still don't see anything special. No sign. No stickers. Nothing. Just two ladies in front of me who say they are from another state but appear to be from another planet as they ask a million questions about sizing and coffee varieties. They're white, so I can inwardly roll my eyes without committing a Race Together violation.
As I order my iced tea, I notice the white barista is wearing a black/white/gray "Race Together" sticker. Oh dear, were other baristas wearing the nondescript stickers and I failed to notice?
I ask her if anyone has responded to it. Has it caused anyone to suggest, "Let's talk about racial issues?"
"Well, not really," she says. "It's funny you say that, we do have conversations like that here, but most of the time it's ... 5 to 6:30 in the morning, like the regulars who come in. ... Those are the people who have talked about it the most. Other than that, it's usually really busy in here," and therefore there's not much time for serious talk.
I realize I'm holding up the line and head to the wait area for my tea. It's there I see the stickers and a subtle black-and-white sign: "Help us heal and move our country forward through Race Together, a campaign focused on creating more empathy, compassion and understanding one conversation at a time. Have a sticker and take a conversation with you." Perhaps other locations had that same, simple sign and I missed it.
Again, nothing special was scrawled on my cup. Except the drink code was marked "BT." Oh no, for merely starting a Race Together conversation was I branded a Big Talker?
Upon Googling Starbucks drink codes, I found out BT did relate to color after all.
Black tea.
I would like it a latte if you'd email:
jchristman@arkansasonline.com
What's in a Dame is a weekly report from the woman 'hood.
Style on 03/24/2015