The Biltmore Estate, as seen from the Italian Gardens.
Visiting the Biltmore Estate has been on my bucket list for awhile. I have a thing for Gilded Age Mansions specifically, and home tours in general. Each time I visit one, the guide or someone on the tour asks, “have you been to Biltmore?”
That’s why I decided to go.
It’s the largest private residence in the U.S., sitting on 125,000 acres of land. The actual house, a French Renaissance chateau (it looks like a church) is 175k square feet with 250 rooms, 43 bathrooms and 65 fireplaces.
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Members of the Krewe of Zulu parade down St. Charles Avenue on a cold, wet, Mardi Gras Day in New Orleans. JONATHAN BACHMAN / Reuters, courtesy of NBC News
I just finished reading Kirsten West Savali’s excellent article on The Root about the grand jury failing to indict the officers who gunned down 12-year old Tamir Rice in Cleaveland. ""Given this perfect storm of human error, mistakes and communications by all involved that day, the evidence did not indicate criminal conduct by police," prosecutor Tim McGinty said on Monday.
In her piece, Savali quotes an officer who radioed in Rice’s slaying describing the boy as “black male, maybe 20.” Savali accurately points out, “in a country that overwhelmingly distorts black childhood to fit its vile and violent racial prejudice, Tamir never stood a chance.”
It made me think of something my “Aunt”, (really a cousin, but the age difference makes me think of her differently) said when I visited my family in New Orleans for Mardi Gras in 2012.
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Often, when I am on my tours for seesomeworld.com, I am the only Black person present other than guards or cashiers at the venue. It is what it is.
So. I'm at the [redacted] Museum in Miami and there are two guards argue- whispering playfully. It's a heated discussion and they are laughing quietly. I've worked retail. I know the drill. I pay it no mind and keep looking.
I'm walking out of the exhibit when the guard says, "Miss, excuse me, Miss?" I turn around. He asks if I can come closer. My first thought: Is there a stain on my dress?
I go over, preparing to be mortified.
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