This is an old song, performed by an old hippie (who's still going and even better), Melanie; whom, for all intents and purposes, seems to be the real deal. This seemed poignant to my story.
At my place of work I see many people throughout the day. There are a few regulars who come through, however, that are the type of people you look forward to seeing (and if they don't show for a few days, you worry they aren't well; several such have passed). One of my favorite older gentleman who comes through always has a joke and makes brilliant anecdotes about life, usually ending on a humorous note. I enjoy meeting people like him and I've noticed that, like I try to do, he gets to know what's at the core of the person he's talking with (to progress a mutual respect for our fellow man, I suppose). In a way, this man sort of reminds me of my grandfather; by his world-view and humor.
Today he came through and started out as usual with the some news; "do you follow the news?", he asked. "Well, wildfires in New Mexico and Arizona, terrible and such beautiful land [then, adding his usually positive spin], but they say it's good to clear the land for new growth so it'll be stronger and more beautiful than before...nature will make it right"). He then said, "Hey, can I tell you a story?" We were slow at this point and he ordered several other drinks (for his wife and daughter, who's visiting). Since we had a few minutes and there were no other customers, I said, "Absolutely". He sort of refrained and thought twice, warning me it wasn't a pleasant one. There was a moment where he looked at me for a bit, perhaps examining my "soul" in some way. It felt like that. It was deeply moving to see what I can only describe as "a beautiful sorrow". Then he said, "Ok, then."
He said, "Well, you know, I used to live in New Mexico...and Arizona for 11 years." His story was about how he played football for the University he'd attended and during his Sophomore year a freshman joined the team, "a really tall and big guy, not fat, but built and a really bright kid. Great quarterback! He was Navaho." They became good friends, including their families. When August came around to start training again he noticed his friend wasn't there and inquired about why he wasn't on the team this year. He found out his friend had committed suicide a few days prior because of the racism he was inundated with. "A few months later", he went on, "I was at a party and saw my friends' sister. We talked for awhile and all of a sudden she started crying. I thought it was because of her brother but asked her why she was crying, anyway. She told me, 'because I'm an Indian'." I actually started to cry. He apologized and said he was sorry for ruining my day. I told him, "Not at all!" and that I was actually glad he shared it. He said, "Well, good. And thank you for listening. Now...tell me a story."
I'm not good at telling stories and told him so. Then it hit me. I rescinded my previous statement and told him of a friend of mine from high school. Like his friend, the purest of heart and kindest person I knew. Someone whom, despite our differences, still accepted me and everyone around her. I inquired about her after we'd graduated and found out she'd shot herself. She was Mexican and the racism was prevalent there, as well. There are some who's pure heart can't take it, and having "to take it" is something no one should ever have to do.
He told me that, "no matter what you're told, it is still impossible for other people because we say to people, 'you're wrong' and it's always that the white guys' word that's somehow golden. We need to just realize we're all the same. We need to learn about everyone around us and just try. I can't believe this is still going on and no one should have to go through that."
His drinks were ready and he ended with, "I've got another story for you next time, have a great day." I'm hoping I get to hear that story tomorrow.
Examine your own self (I do it often). To say that we are truly loving and truly want peace, how can we have any form of discrimination against another human being? It doesn't matter who or why we are projecting it. This isn't merely me jabbing at white fundamentalists again; most every culture demonstrates this in one form or another. It's Xenophobia at it's most pure and destructive. And building walls is merely refusal of your fellow man.
People are still dying because of race, religion, sexual-orientation; things that, in the grand scheme of things, really don't matter. They are dying not only by the hands of others but also at the hands of themselves. Our words and our attitudes create this; our societal acceptance of such things perpetuates this; combined we create a bomb.
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