Amber Ruffin - Youll Never Believe What Happened to Lacey: Crazy Stories about Racism

Note to Readers: In recounting the events in this memoir, chronologies have been compressed or altered and details have been changed to assist the narrative. Where dialogue appears, the intention was to re-create the essence of conversations rather than verbatim quotes. Names and identifying characteristics of some individuals have been changed.

This memoir reflects the authors lives faithfully rendered to the best of their ability. Some names and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of others.

Copyright 2021 by Amber Ruffin and Lacey Lamar

Cover design by Alicia Tatone
Cover photo of Amber Ruffin by Lloyd Bishop; cover photo of Lacey Lamar by Emily Strauss Photography
Cover copyright 2021 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.

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First edition: January 2021

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Library of Congress Control Number: 2020946461

ISBNs: 978-1-5387-1936-7 (hardcover), 978-1-5387-1934-3 (ebook)

E3-20201211-DA-NF-ORI

This book is dedicated to Black mothers and fathers like James and Theresa Ruffin, who teach us how to deal with racism; to Black brothers and sisters like Chrystal, Angela, and Jimmy, who provide support; and to Black children like Imani, who hopefully have it easier than we did.

And, most of all, this book is dedicated to
El DeBarge. You are truly the Rhythm of the Night.

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L acey used to have these Black history checks. Each check had a different Black hero on it. MLK, Rosa Parks, Frederick Douglass. So Lacey was at a store chatting with the cashier and theyre having fun. After shes all rung up, Lacey handed the young white cashier a check with a picture of Harriet Tubman on it and the cashier said, Wow! You have checks with your picture on em? I am sorry this book peaked so early. That is the funniest story I will ever hear. Harriet Tubman, yall. Look at their two faces! This story happened years ago and I still think about it and laugh out loud.

My sister Lacey is a lightning rod for hilarious racist stories. Shes the perfect mix of polite, beautiful, tiny, and Black that makes people think: I can say whatever I want to this woman. And I guess you can. Hey, knock yourself outbut that doesnt mean you wont end up in a book.

I am not exaggerating when I say You wont believe what happened to Lacey. And Im hard to impress. My name is Amber Ruffin. I grew up with my big sister Lacey, our mom, dad, two other sisters, and one brother in Omaha, Nebraska. I know exactly the type of shenanigans folks will pull on a person of color. My lord, have I heard some things. But my feeble stories never come close to the hilarity that befalls Lacey on a near daily basis.

I moved away from Omaha many years ago and now I work in New York City, where I write comedy. Everyone I work with is stark raving normal. We dont have any crazy bigots (dumb enough to run up) and Im no ones first Black friend. Now, Im not saying no one ever says anything crazy to meIm still a Black woman in Americaits just that we all know there are consequences for talking to me as if youve lost your mind. So Ive forgotten, more or less, the constant flow of racism one must endure to live in the Midwest and be the only Black person at work. It is an unchecked tsunami of dumb questions and comments. Youre expected to walk people through every aspect of Blackness. You become the ambassador of Blackovia. People think its your job to answer every dumb Why cant I (insert the most nonsense shit youve ever heard)? Is it because Im white? I call this process dragging white people into the light, and its something I dont do anymore.

This is Lacey. My little sister, Amber, is spoiled and has forgotten the 1970s-esque social blindspot shes left me in.

Dont get me wrong, Im glad that shes gotten to move away from Omaha to New York, where someone would get fired for out-and-out racism. I love that that really happens. Never seen it, but I love it. Like Santa Claus. Ive seen movies about it, heard people talk about it. I understand its normal for a lot of people, but it would be like having a zebra in your living room for me. I would not believe my eyes.

Twice a week, I get a text from my sister that says, Can you talk? Its my favorite because I know Im about to be transported to a place that exists in real life and fantasy: the place where coworkers will put their whole hand in your hair, talking bout Its fluffy like a dog. I realize this sounds terrible, but its like watching Dateline. You cant believe it was the GIRLFRIEND who killed the HUSBAND! Its the edge of reality. Technically, it happens, but it is barely plausible. Excited, I steal away to the elevator banks at work and listen to Lacey tell me a new horror story. Its fantastic. As I stand there, mouth agape, listening to some new fresh hell, I am always struck by the fact that these stories will only exist in this phone call. Some will go on to become stories once the topic turns to racist people at work one night when Lacey is hanging out with her friends, but shell forget most of them because of the sheer volume. The. Sheer. Volume.

Now, I understand all of this sounds harsh, but you have to know that this is not a book full of sad stories. The previous paragraph was the saddest it will get for a while. Black people hear stories like these so frequently that it takes a lot for it to start to hurt our feelings. We have all been through it. But, dare I say, you aint been through it like Lacey. Black readers will read these stories and feel that really good, yet terrible feeling of going through something bad and realizing youre not alone, and not only that, but that someone else has it worse! And, hopefully, the white reader is gonna read this, feel sad, think a little about it, feel like an ally, come to a greater understanding of the DEPTH of this type of shit, and maybe walk away with a different point of view of what its like to be a Black American in the twenty-first century.