Hospitals, Hotties, and Bigotry

I went to the hospital today, for a pastoral visit. As I was leaving, I crossed paths with a young man about my age (don’t get too excited, mom!); he was heading toward the hospital as I walked to the parking garage. Admittedly, I noticed him because he was a very attractive man (I may be a pastor, but I’m not dead!) and he appeared to be of Indian descent. When I was several feet passed the handsome stranger, I heard the voice of another man—someone walking behind me at a distance. I didn’t hear what he said, exactly, but could tell it was one of those loud pronouncements people sometimes make in public settings, hoping others will hear and notice. Since that kind of behavior usually means UNSTABLE with a capital “u”, I just kept walking. Because I had no idea what he actually said, I didn’t feel terribly guilty—and he was far enough away that I felt no societal pressures toward politeness.

Well, the “pronouncement man” started walking faster, until he was just barely behind me and, unfortunately, within my undeniable hearing range. The man repeated—loudly, obnoxiously--what I assume he said the first time: “All these damn foreign doctors, you can’t tell ‘em apart”. If my calculations are correct, he originally proclaimed this trash at the exact moment he passed the cutie man I described earlier.

Many thoughts came to my mind, most prominently: “Dude, you seriously need Jesus!” I thought of that poor guy—who may or may not actually be a doctor. He didn’t deserve to have racial slurs hurled at him by some ridiculous caricature of a bigot.

I was livid as I turned around to see a very white, sixty-something-year-old man, with a prominent red neck, walking behind me. I wanted to punch him. He assumed my solidarity with his prejudice simply because I am white. Anyone who knows me can testify to the fact that I am beyond white…more like “Why doesn’t someone give that girl a blood transfusion already?” white. In that particular moment, I was embarrassed by my skin color; I despised having ANYTHING in common with such a hate-filled man.

In the few seconds of lapsed time between his “All these damn foreign doctors, you can’t tell ‘em apart” statement and my need for a response, I gave voice to the only sentiment I could think of: “Well, maybe they think we all look alike, too”. Granted, not the best response, but it did name his racist stereotype for what it was. The man actually grunted and said, “Well, I don’t care what they think about me.” Then he sped up his pace and walked passed me in a huff. I still wanted to punch him.

I won’t address the man’s comment about foreign doctors. I will merely pray he finds himself in multiple situations that force him to look beyond the surface of people. I will, however, address the idea of every foreign person “looking alike”. It is a sociological fact that people of one race will sometimes have trouble distinguishing unique differences amongst people of other races. The truth, though, is that all people of a certain race do NOT look alike…just like all white people do not look alike (it would sound ridiculous for a person to suggest such). If people of a certain race all look the same to you, it is your perception which is flawed. It means you have not put significant effort or time into building relationships with people of other cultures. The more time you spend with people of various ethnicities, the more you notice the unique qualities, characteristics, and attributes of individuals. If “all foreign doctors” look alike to this man, the fault is his: his ignorance, his lack of experience, his blindness.

What happened today bothered me GREATLY because it was sheer prejudice. Maybe I was raised in a different world from him, but if the thought of what he said ever crossed my mind (or even the thought of thinking about saying something similiar), I would have been grounded until I was 50 years old.

I vividly remember being 7 or 8 years old and seeing an African American on television. I made comment about that, but I used a really terrible word to describe that person…a word that, now, makes me sick to my stomach. It was the “n-word”. In all fairness to the young me, I didn’t know what it meant. I thought it was just another word for “black”. In fact, I had learned that word from a very beloved and respected family member. No one told me that it was an awful, dirty, hate-filled word…until I said it, out loud, for the first time. From my mom’s reaction, you'd have thought I just drowned a thousand puppies in a lake or something. She shouted, “Tina Marie Dietsch…” (You know you are in trouble when the whole name comes out!) I learned that I would “NEVER say that word again”. I learned that was an “awful, mean, nasty word”. I learned that “we do not judge people based on the color of their skin in this house, young lady”.

To me, that situation is forever etched on my mind. My mom was not someone who got mad. Emotional, yes. Angry, very rarely. She was incensed that day…and I was scared…but I got the message. I have never said that word again. Heck, I cannot even type it! More than that, though, I got the message that people are more than labels…more than what they appear. I learned, from the beginning, that a good person—the kind of person I wanted to be—is a person who respects others, even when it was difficult—even if the world tells you to do otherwise.

So, I count people like Martin Luther King, Jr. and Gandhi (and my mom) as heroes and role-models in my life…people who saw what was true and best and good in people, regardless of the outer shell. The sad thing is, there have always been (and probably always will be) people like that man today. They are the same kind of people who disparaged and murdered such great men as Gandhi and King. They are the people who choose hate, judgment, and stereotypes rather than understanding, unity and peace.

It is easier to be ignorant and ridiculous. It takes no work. You never have to leave your comfort zone. You don't have to examine your own inner darkness or wrong motives. It is just plain easier. But, as we all know, easier is very rarely RIGHT, GOOD, and TRUE. I am a fan of what is right, good and true. I hope that is the fragrance I leave as I exit a room. The world has too much ignorance and fear. I saw that again today. I know, I should seek to understand this man today, to not judge him, but to look beneath the surface. However, I am not there yet. I still want to punch him.