The Minority Report — A White Dude’s Guide to Harlem
When we told our friends we’d return to the United States and move to New York City, many were excited. When we followed up by saying we’d move to Harlem, there was a pregnant pause. I guess many people who have never been here still believe this part of New York to be crime ridden and outright dangerous. Granted, it is not as clean and safe as, say, the Upper East side but there are differences. There is West Harlem – which has significantly changed over the last decades. Proximity to Columbia University on the Upper West side helps. It also helps that Brooklyn has become too expensive and the gentrification bulldozer has moved on to Harlem.
We don’t live in West Harlem. Our new home is Central Harlem and one way I first realized the difference was by walking southwest from my home. At around West 118th St towards Morning Side, I noticed I wasn’t the only white dude on the block anymore. A recent conversation with an old African-American friend had me reflect on some of my experiences here.
From the Village to the Big Apple
This friend of mine is an African American pastor who is based in Baltimore, MD and he asked me about life for a white guy in Harlem. He and I had met 15 years ago at a Washington, DC suburban church we both attended. The congregation was a great mix of Asian, black, Latin, white and every mixed race you can imagine. Fast forward to 2025, after my wife and I had recently returned to the United States after ten years abroad, swapping a village in France for Harlem.
We now attend a church in our Harlem neighborhood which is predominantly black prompting my friend to ask that question. We talked about bias, comfort zone, etc. which led me to reflect about that comfort zone in the context of me (white, middle-aged immigrant to Harlem) and the local church (mostly African American, with a clear focus on Harlem and challenges specific to this part of New York).
We now attend a church in our Harlem neighborhood which is predominantly black prompting my friend to ask that question. We talked about bias, comfort zone, etc. which led me to reflect about that comfort zone in the context of me (white, middle-aged immigrant to Harlem) and the local church (mostly African American, with a clear focus on Harlem and challenges specific to this part of New York).
Of course, there are very diverse churches in Harlem as in the rest of NYC, but we wanted a church within walking distance. This particular one had been recommended to us by friends of friends. It ticked all our boxes, and we dove right in. Only later did we realize we’d be the odd ones out. With that in mind, my friend observed, this “black” church would probably not be the normal first choice for someone looking like me. Interestingly, though, what makes me different from the majority of the congregation has not much to do with skin tone.
LEGO Brick Charisma
To put it into a slightly different perspective: for me any church, company, organization or club in the United States and probably more so in NYC will always be a place where I am different. I grew up in Germany and have the charisma of a LEGO brick, a yellow one maybe but still. Consequently, it will always be an effort for me to fit into U.S. culture. Never mind that I have become a naturalized citizen, celebrate 4th July with real pride and have been told I produce a mean Thanksgiving turkey. Over the years I have learned to mimic a little of the American can-do attitude and despite that LEGO brick type personal charisma, I enjoy a talk with total strangers in the street. Anyway, everything I thought I had figured out after first having lived here between 2000 and 2015 has changed as the country has moved on from when we had left here.Culture — In Bits and Pieces
“Color” only adds one more layer to several I am navigating. The thing is, for me everything is American and one big U.S. culture. So, when my friend threw in the element of African American culture, for that’s just one part of U.S. culture. Viewed from the outside, African-American, Latin-American, and other -American cultures are nuances, many of which I don’t even get.I am Not Bavarian, Excuse Me
I usually try to illustrate this with the picture many Americans have when they think of Germany: beer and lederhosen. What non-Germans don’t always appreciate is the kind of beer they drink where they also wear lederhosen — Bavaria — is very different from where I grew up in the Lower Rhineland. If I wore lederhosen in my hometown people would laugh me out of the local pub. Lederhosen are Bavarian and not German as much as that ten-gallon cowboy hat is Texan and not American. You stick out wearing that in New York. That’s how the Naked Cowboy at Times Square is making money, after all (and he does wear more than a hat).I am A Stranger in Any America, White, Black, ....
Our focus on differences is unfortunately normal human behavior. To be able to recognize them requires some knowledge and immersion. And lest you think, I missed that over the last decades, the point is I feel a stranger in “white” America as much as I do in “Asian”, “African”, … fill in blank America. The result, as a newbie I do wonder how I will fit in, how I can contribute and what might prevent others from approaching me as much as in our new predominantly black church as in any other church. Skin color is just one more factor. The danger is focusing on that factor alone, regardless of whether I focused on it or any African-American member of my church. They’d be amiss viewing me only as a “white” transplant into their neighborhood as I would be if I primarily focused on how to overcome the difference in skin color.Race Is Just on the Surface
That’s when “race” becomes a distraction. For example, I am significantly older than most in my congregation. Neither do I have small kids anymore which is always a great way to meet people who also have small kids. These may even be bigger hurdles for me to take than being one of the few whites. When our initial attempts to break the ice by inviting people to our home fell flat, our new pastor had an interesting explanation. It had very little to do with skin color, age or anything else I had assumed. It was a New York thing, yet another layer. Your home is either your sanctuary or so small that people who hustle all day in this city first need to meet you elsewhere. You meet at restaurants, bars, sport, etc. Only later would you invite someone over. We had basically skipped some culturally important steps.Living abroad means uncovering these layers and start peeling back. It is never only one factor. Skin color is one of many. It is the most visible but in our case at least, it is the least important layer to consider.
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