I stood in front of an elevator, waiting. Two young girls' eyes darted toward me, I smiled, and the girls exchanged nervous glances.

The elevator doors opened, they scurried inside, hit the button for their floor and clutched one another's arms in the corner. I casually pushed the button for my floor, trying to be as non-threatening as possible. My floor came before theirs, yet I never saw them relinquish each other's arms. They were practically shaking. They were afraid of me.

At 1.8 meters tall and 79 kg, I am not a small person. But, with my clean, preppy style and easy good looks, I am also not a threatening person. Nonetheless, wherever I go in Beijing, I am the cause of nervous glances and hurried steps. Why? Because I'm a black male.

I was born and raised in the United States where, sure, you notice a person's skin color. But you also notice how a person carries himself, his manner of speaking, the clothes he wears and how he looks at you. This is not my experience in China. The derisive looks I receive suggest that because I am black, I must be bad.

In an attempt to counteract these looks, I try to act as non-confrontational as possible. I make an extra effort to dress neat and clean, and to smile and say ni hao whenever I make eye contact. Unfortunately, so far none of these attempts at stopping the hurtful looks have worked.

There are not many black people in China, so most Chinese people have limited interactions with blacks and each interaction leaves an impression. As a result, it pains me to see other black people making a scene or acting confrontationally.

The other day I witnessed a black man standing shirtless in Sanlitun, yelling non-sequiturs and obscenities. Six mall security guards stood in a semi-circle around him. There seemed to be an invisible 2-meter barrier between the man and the guards, and none of the guards would go any closer. They were trying to take the man away from the property while keeping as much distance as possible from him. Clearly, they were afraid and this time, it was for good reason. The man was unpredictable.

Passers-by ran into the street to avoid him. Young women clutched their men, often times switching sides to put the man closer to the black male. And when the man began to stagger toward my friends and me, we also became uncomfortable and left, not looking back.

As I fled from this scene, my stomach turned and something inside me snapped.

A friend once told me that for every negative interaction you have with someone, it takes 10 positive interactions with that same person just to get back to neutral.

I have spent the past two summers in Beijing working to be as kind and friendly to Beijingers as I possibly can. But my smiles and hellos never can make as deep and lasting an impression as that crazed man's rants.

One man cannot represent all others - for better or worse. I am no more an ambassador for my race than the man in the mall.

Even so, I cannot help but hope that if a Chinese person has a positive experience with me, then just maybe the next black man they meet will have the opportunity to start from neutral. He's on his own after that.