I often speak and write of my adventures; There’s a good chance it’s how I’ll write about today when I blog tomorrow. Even I can’t see adventure in shopping at Aldi. That’s not true. I’m thinking back and there’s the adventure of the bus driver. I change buses at Pelham Bay Park. I got on the bus and very soon after the driver closed the door before most of the people boarded. I hadn’t been paying attention, so I didn’t know what happened. The driver yelled at people to get back from the door. Then someone came running, thinking he had just missed the bus. I’ve done that many times. The driver was livid. He told him to get back or he’d get killed. It was not a threat, he said, “I’d kill you then have to live with it.” It was about not wanting to run the guy over but with the anger it sounded like a threat. That happened a few more times. Then the bus driver pulled up 20 feet and opened the door. A gentleman with a heavily bandaged foot and a cane came on. This was all about letting him on the bus. The driver’s goal was good and considerate. The way he handled it was wrong and hostile. If he had said, “Please move back so I can move the bus up and let someone handicapped on, everything would have run smoother, we’d have moved faster, and nobody would be upset. I wish there was a way to not report him but ask that someone gives him a lesson on how to handle that situation in the future.
My other adventure was discovering the existence of Clancy’s bacon-maple potato chips. Clancy’s is Aldi’s store brand. I bought them and overindulged. I do that too often. It meant eating dinner late and spending much of the night in the bathroom. I can resist anything but temptation.
Now for the difficult part; to make a point, I’m going to use myself as an example and tell you things about myself you might not like. I’m doing it because the point is important, and this is the best way I can think of to convey it.
I have a strong disgust reaction; if you’ve ever seen my find some food, usually green, mixed in with what I’m eating you’ve witnessed it. It took me years to use the port-a-johns at Falcon Ridge without holding my breath the entire time I was inside. The year I went with an ileostomy I considered it a boon as it took me just seconds to empty the bag and I didn’t have to sit down. So far, it’s just amusing self-deprecation. But that same kind of gut reaction can be triggered by people too.
I hate tattoos and piercings. If you get your first after I knew you, and was confident in our friendship, I joked that whatever body part that you got tattooed or pierced would fall off. Joking is the way I redirect my gut.
There are physical deformities that make me uncomfortable. There are accents that bother me. I hate calling individuals, “they.” It jars me every time. Thinking about two men having sex makes me queasy. I’m a walking collection of prejudices. None of that makes me a bad person; they don’t even make me a bigot. I can’t help these things any more than a gay person can choose to be straight. What I can control is how I treat people. I am not my gut, I’m my mind. If you look at my closest friends you’ll find a large number, maybe a majority, with tattoos or piercings. I refer to several of them as “they.” One of my very closest friends who I love as much as I love anyone is gender ambiguous and heavily tattooed. I still trip on “they” but the disgust at tattoos is vestigial. That’s the thing, you become acclimated. It might take years, like the port-a-johns, but they weaken. And even if they don’t weaken you get stronger and fight them with less effort.
Joy Reid is in trouble for old homophobic blog posts. She said; “Most straight people cringe at the sight of two men kissing;” and a lot of heterosexuals, especially me, find homosexual sex to be … well … gross.” This is the thought process I’m trying to combat. First off there’s no way to know it either of those statements is true. I wouldn’t trust people’s answers if you asked them. More importantly, so what if they are true? I eat tongue, I know most people find that gross. Should that change the way that I’m treated? I should hope not. I have plenty of vegan friends, so I take it that they accept me, no matter their personal feelings.
The fact that you feel a certain way is no excuse to treat someone poorly. You’re comfort level is not more important than people’s dignity. A gentleman is someone that knows how to play accordion and doesn’t. You can’t choose how you feel but you can choose to be kind. Fortunately, if you do it often enough those gut feelings weaken and even disappear. I said all those things about myself in the present tense, but they are nowhere as strong as they used to be.
One last point, listening to your gut. Discrimination is listening to your gut. People’s guts tell them to object to people that are different. What makes you think that your gut is any more accurate? I know mine isn’t. Your glands don’t think, they react. Choose reason, choose kindness. That’s what under your control.
Wise Madness 