As a 33-year veteran of law enforcement, a nationally recognized civil rights advocate, and a four-time honoree on City and State Magazine’s prestigious Power 100 list, I’ve dedicated my life to public service and fighting for equality. My work has earned me numerous awards and accolades, acknowledging my contributions to social justice and community empowerment. With this background, I’ve grown accustomed to being treated with a certain level of respect and dignity.
However, with a complete understanding of America’s racist DNA, I recognize what racism looks like in its many forms. My recent 3-month stay at the Marriott Opus Hotel in White Plains, New York, reminded me that this society will judge you by your color before your accomplishments. This experience not only undermined my dignity but also highlighted the systemic issues that continue to plague our hospitality industry and society at large.
It’s crucial to understand the context of our stay. My family and I were not on vacation; we were displaced due to extensive flood damage. As many know, seeking temporary accommodation in a hotel is customary during such home repairs. We chose Marriott for its long-standing reputation for service and comfort. Little did we know that the Marriott Opus in White Plains would not only fail to provide the expected sanctuary during our time of need but would also tarnish the brand’s reputation in the process.
Despite my accomplishments and status, my wife’s 19-year reputation as a Detective, and my daughter being a Nurse Practitioner, being in a vulnerable situation due to our home crisis, I found myself subjected to a series of degrading incidents during our stay at this supposedly luxury Marriott Bonvoy property. From the moment we checked in, my family and I were treated as second-class citizens. Despite being long-term guests and spending a substantial amount of 60 thousand for room and board for two rooms and approximately 4 thousand in the lounge on food and drinks, we faced a series of incidents that can only be described as shocking and demeaning.
Imagine being told, after a month-long stay, that you and your family – including a 3-year-old grandchild – need to vacate your room due to overbooking, only to find out later that rooms were indeed available.
Following an incident related to room occupancy, my daughter discovered that her Marriott Bonvoy points had been removed from her account. My wife reached out to the hotel manager to address this sudden deduction of points. The hotel took this action even though our daughter’s name and credit card were registered for her room. Adding to our frustration, the manager refused to meet with my wife to discuss the matter in person.
But the indignities didn’t stop there. One evening, a billing dispute involving my daughter’s friend erupted in the hotel lounge. The contention centered around charges for extra drinks and a questionable $99 service fee. The hotel, in a breathtaking display of avarice, had the audacity to charge a $99 service fee based on the most ludicrous of pretexts. Vanessa Perez, seemingly determined to squeeze every possible dollar from our party, reclassified our 3-year-old grandchild – a toddler, mind you – as a full-fledged adult.
This wasn’t just a mistake; it was a calculated move to artificially inflate our party size from 5 to 6 “adults,” conveniently justifying an additional service charge. The sheer absurdity of counting a child who can barely read as an adult for billing purposes would be comical if it weren’t so infuriating.
Their actions sent a clear message: in their eyes, we weren’t valued guests to be treated with respect and understanding. We were walking dollar signs to be exploited, and when we dared to question their tactics, we became problems to be silenced rather than customers to be served.
This incident wasn’t just a dispute over a bill. It was a glaring example of the systemic disrespect and racial bias that permeated our entire stay at this so-called luxury hotel. It laid bare the ugly truth that even in 2024, even after spending tens of thousands of dollars, a Black family can still be treated as second-class citizens the moment they dare to stand up for themselves.
In a shocking display of poor judgment, Lounge Management, Kathleen Bischoff called the police – an action I found particularly annoying given my 33-year background in law enforcement and my wife being a 19-year Detective in Mount Vernon. The management’s intent seemed clear: publicly embarrassing my family and friends. This scene played out in front of other guests, adding to our humiliation. Eventually, after this unnecessary spectacle, they agreed to adjust the disputed amount.
The hotel’s Malicious behavior continued beyond our initial encounter. The day after our dispute, I was shocked to find an unauthorized charge on my credit card. The hotel had attempted to bill me for the remaining balance of my daughter’s friend’s disputed bill – the very same issue we thought had been resolved the previous night.
This underhanded attempt to recover their alleged losses by charging an uninvolved party was both unethical and fraudulent. When confronted, Lounge Manager Kathleen Bischoff claimed it was “policy” to charge the remaining balance to my room, despite my lack of involvement in or responsibility for the previous night’s disputed bill.
I informed Bischoff that if she wished to involve the police again, as she had done the night before, I would press charges against the hotel for fraud. Only after this threat did Bischoff agree to credit the unauthorized amount back to my account.
These incidents alone would be deeply troubling, but they paint a disturbing picture of systemic disrespect and dishonest practices. The hotel seemed too willing to manipulate our charges for their benefit, escalate minor disputes to law enforcement, and then attempt to charge unrelated parties for their mistakes covertly.
Amid the whirlwind of issues we faced, one incident stood out as a stark reminder of the subtle yet pervasive nature of racial bias. On an otherwise unremarkable day, my wife approached the front desk, her smile ready and greeting prepared – a simple courtesy most of us extend without a second thought. What she received in return was far from the professional welcome one expects at a luxury hotel.
The white female employee behind the desk didn’t bother to speak. She didn’t smile. She merely lifted her chin in a curt nod, a gesture so dismissive it felt like a slap in the face. In that moment, my wife wasn’t a valued guest who had contributed thousands to the hotel’s coffers. She wasn’t a professional woman deserving of basic respect. In the eyes of this employee, she was, apparently, someone unworthy of even the most basic verbal acknowledgment.
The incident might seem minor to some, a blip in the grand scheme of things. But for us, it was a painful reminder of the microaggressions Black people face daily. It begged the question: Would a white guest have received the same treatment? Or was this employee’s behavior rooted in the insidious assumption that a nonverbal grunt is an appropriate way to address Black patrons?
What made this interaction all the more glaring was its stark contrast to the professional demeanor exhibited by other staff members. It stood out like a sore thumb, a blatant deviation from the standard of service we had come to expect. This disparity only served to underscore the likely racial undertones of the encounter.
This incident may not have been the most egregious in the tapestry of our troubled stay at the Opus Hotel. Yet it was perhaps the most insidious – a quiet, everyday reminder of the battles we still face, even in spaces where we’ve paid handsomely for the privilege of occupancy.
But what truly keeps me up at night is the nagging question: Would a white family, similarly displaced by a home disaster, have been subjected to this same treatment? I think we all know the answer. The complete lack of accountability or correction from management, despite our significant financial investment in their establishment and our challenging circumstances, speaks volumes about their priorities – and it’s undoubtedly not customer service or compassion.
As a Black man who has dedicated his life to public service, I’ve always believed in the power of speaking up against injustice. That’s why I’m sharing my story. It’s not just about one bad experience but a systemic issue that plagues our society. It’s about the subtle (and sometimes not-so-subtle) ways in which people of color are made to feel unwelcome, even in spaces where they’re paying customers, even when they’re seeking refuge from a personal crisis.
To the management of Opus Hotel and Marriott Bonvoy, I say this: Your actions have consequences. Your failure to address these issues impacts my family and erodes the trust of an entire community. We deserve better. We demand better.
Luxury hotels should provide more than just upscale amenities; they should offer an experience that makes every guest feel valued and respected, regardless of their race or length of stay. Unfortunately, my family’s experience at the Marriot Opus Hotel in White Plains, New York, fell far short of this standard.
And to my fellow travelers, especially people of color: Be vigilant. Don’t let the promise of luxury fool you. Our dignity is not for sale, and no amount of thread count on your sheets or room service can compensate for being treated as less than human, especially when dealing with personal hardships.
My experience at Marriot Opus Hotel was more than just a series of unfortunate events. It was a stark reminder that even in 2024, even as a respected professional, even as a paying customer in need of compassion, the color of my skin can still dictate how I’m treated. It’s a sobering reality, but we must continue fighting against it.
As for me, the Marriott Opus Hotel in White Plains, New York, has lost my business forever. Even driving past the building now leaves a bitter taste in my mouth—a stark reminder of the harsh realities that persist in America. No matter what a Black person might achieve in this country, the specter of discrimination looms large, echoing the poignant words of Jay-Z: Sill N*
I urge others to find different hotels in White Plains until Marriott Opus demonstrates a genuine commitment to treating all guests equally, regardless of their race or circumstances. Thread counts or amenity lists don’t measure true luxury and hospitality—they’re defined by how you make people feel. They’re about being treated as a valued human being, irrespective of the color of your skin or the crisis you may be facing.
It’s high time for Marriott, and indeed the entire hospitality industry, to realize that in 2024, excellent service means more than just a comfortable bed—it means creating an environment where every guest feels genuinely welcome, respected, and valued. Anything less is not just poor service; it’s a perpetuation of the systemic biases that continue to plague our society.
