Turban Time
It seems as though my most interesting stories lately have all taken place in check-out lines (see my previous blog post). This story is far less embarrassment than my last, but don't worry--I lead a very embarrassing life, so there's sure to be more ridiculousness to come.
At the beginning of last week, I twisted up my hair, and since then have been wearing a turban over the twists. This way, I don't have to primp and prim my curls when I get up at six in the morning, waste twenty five minutes in bed, and then have to rush over to work by six forty-five. In the past, I would've just put my hair up in a puff. But after chopping it all off this summer, it's too short for that, and I had to get a little more creative. So, on a whimsical shopping spree a couple of weeks ago, I stocked up on overly priced hair accessories and purchased a couple of turban wraps so I could hide my hair in style.
After a few days of wearing the turban, my boyfriend (we'll call him T for the remainder of this blog) and I went to the grocery store for paper towels and water bottles. While in line, I was too preoccupied staring longingly at the candy and deciding which of the tabloid articles sound more believable, but T was listening to the conversation the check-out clerk and the man in front of us were having. Their chat goes on for so long that I have time to sneak a couple of Kit-Kat bars onto the conveyor belt, and when it's our turn to pay for our things, the cashier has very few words to share with us. In fact, I don't remember her speaking at all other than a slightly disgruntled "hello." As we're leaving, T whispers to me, "did you see how quiet she got when it was our turn to check out?"
"No," was my response. I didn't notice anything outside of the Kit-Kat and Snickers bars strategically placed at the front of the story for poor, naive shoppers such as myself.
"She was so friendly with the guy before us," T explained. "They were talking and laughing. And then all of a sudden when we get up there, she gets all salty and mean." I thought back to her disgruntled greeting, but it didn't mean much to me. A lot of cashiers give disgruntled greetings.
"Well, maybe she knew the guy," I suggested, but T wasn't convinced. His explanation? Racism--which I suppose could've been true. T and I are an interracial couple living in a small town in central Illinois. We're surrounded by corn and soybean fields, and from time to time, people who haven't seen much diversity in their lives. Still, I like to give people the benefit of the doubt, so I held my ground in my assumptions that they might've already known each other.
But it isn't long before I'm struck with another thought, and exclaim in one, excited breath that the dismal attitude and less-than-stellar treatment could've been due to the fact that I was wearing a turban. Had she mistaken me for a Muslim? Had she acted so salty towards us because she believed me to be a Muslim? Our town is a college town, so most folks tend to be liberal, accepting, open-minded and respectful of diversity. Still, the fact that we're so far down in the state does mean some prejudice towards differences.
There has been a considerable amount of tension between folks in terms of racism and hostility towards diversity especially since the election, and while I don't think it's anything new, I do think that it is brought to our attention now more so than in years past. I've encountered my fair share of racial prejudice, rude remarks and such during my lifetime, though never has it been attributed to my religion. Never have I experienced walking down the street and being hated because my outward appearance openly reflects or reveals my faith.
I can't begin to imagine those who have suffered from this sort of treatment day in and day out simply because of their faith. It irks me to no end when those who do not understand or have an extremely limited knowledge of Christianity judge me or others based on what they think Christianity means, and what they think Christians do and believe. In general, Christianity is more widely accepted than Islam, and I've still faced people who disapprove and are unkind in voicing their disapproval. To be a member of a religion and faith walk that has come to hold such a negative connotation, and experience this ten fold? To always feel the need to prove you are an American just for wearing a headscarf or a turban? To feel unsafe and unprotected from violent retaliations every time anyone who looks like they might be a Muslim commits a crime? The list could go on and on, though it shouldn't.
Perhaps I am even reading too far into this particular situation, and the woman's attitude had nothing to do with me appearing to be Muslim or Black. Maybe she didn't like my smile. Maybe she didn't like T's choice in shirts that day. Maybe she suddenly remembered that her husband ate the Chinese food she'd been saving in the fridge for dinner. I have no idea. But, whatever the case was with this woman at the checkout counter, her 'tude we experienced for all of five minutes made me think of those who experience this 'tude and much worse 'tudes for far more than five minutes once in their life. As far as we've come as a country, we still limit our perceptions and ideas of people to what they aren't, or to all the bad we associate with what they look like.
As far as we've come as a country, we can go farther and do better.
All the Best,
Reina
