Ealain

Shadow and I were talking the other day. He was filling out an online application for a job at Blockbuster. He was making small comments about some of the questions asked. Then he got to one that he honestly couldn’t answer.

He is Arab. None of the above. Yet there is no “Other” option. His race is not listed, as if it doesn’t exist or as if it does not matter or as if the company does not hire it. Which is true?

In post 9/11 America, this is a big no-no. I just did a research essay on Muslim Americans and, trust me, many companies have either gotten in trouble for this kind of thing or they have taken efforts to make their Muslim workers feel comfortable in the workplace.

“Census 2000 measured a U.S. population of 281.4 million, including 1.2 million who reported an Arab ancestry” - Census.Gov

I believe that’s enough to warrant a checkbox on an application. Either that or invest in an “Other” field that you can fill-in-the-blank.

I grew up in the south and my Grampa, Gramma, and Dad were/are highly racist against black people. For the most part as a child, that was kept hidden from me. Either that or I didn’t notice it. Looking back, I can pick out a few things. Whenever I mentioned a friend from school, my Gramma would ask “Is she black?” and I was always told never to go to a certain gas station because it was the black one.

My mom was the opposite though. She had a lot of black and white friends and once said that when it came to skin color, she was color blind.

I was always like her.

About a year ago I read Barack Obama’s book “Dreams from my Father.” I don’t know why, but that changed things for me. For anyone that doesn’t know the background: His mom was a white woman from Kansas and his dad a black man from Kenya. He was raised in a white family and only met his father once. But he was considered black by whites and considered not black enough by blacks. After I read that book, I started noticing black people more. I had always known they were there and treated them the same. But now they started standing out more. I was no longer racially color blind like my mom. I made an effort to always smile at them. But it kept resounding in my mind that that was wrong because I was treating them differently because of their skin color. I was nicer to them, but it still was being prejudiced in a way because it was because of their color.

I haven’t been able to shake it.

Gradually that effortful niceness faded and I went back to everyone treated the same: with my nonchalance (I tend to stay in a bubble if I don’t know someone; “ignoring” most everyone and just doing what I’m there to do). But they still stood out.

Last week when I went up to my Gramma’s, I got gas before getting on the highway to come home. There are two gas stations across the road from each other. One is the one I’ve always gone to and the other is the one I’ve was told never to go to. I was talking to Effie on my phone while pulling in and the “white” one was all full and I had to circle. I told her about that I was told never to go to the other one because it was “black” and that I didn’t know why but I couldn’t let myself go there since it had been ingrained in me for so long even though all the pumps there were fully open. I have nothing against black people, but I couldn’t go there because I had been told my whole life never to go there, even though there probably never was a reason for them telling me that other than the fact that mostly only blacks went there.

But why is that? The “black” station always has gas a few cents cheaper so the blacks have probably always gone there for that reason, using common sense. But then the whites saw all the blacks going there and “banned” it, even if it meant paying a little more for their gas.

While at my Gramma’s, my 89-year old great aunt Sadie told me about this boy that came to her door in the middle of the night asking to use her phone. Immediately, I thought of the risk: he could have been there to kill or rob her and instinctively knew that I would have refused. She said that he said he had broken down and wanted to call his dad to come get him. She said he had puppies by his feet, that he said he had just gotten them. That was the night that it went down to 17 degrees.

She let him in. He couldnt’ get through to his dad so she got the number from him and said she would continue to call and he continued walking into town. After a while, she got through and explained what had happened. They returned the day after for the car and his dad came and thanked her.

Last night on the way home from class, I started craving some milk and went in a gas station where I live (the others were up by my Gramma’s) to get a small bottle. When I pulled in, there were only two parking spots alotted for non-getting-gas people and right next to them was a picnic bench where a black man was sitting. He had a hoodie on and the hood was pulled over his head. And my first instinct was to try to find another place to park because that image of a black man with a hood, just sitting and waiting for a victim has been ingrained in my head recently by my dad.

But I told myself no. I asked myself why I was afraid because I had never met this man before and how did I know he would kill me? I reminded myself of Aunt Sadie. So I parked, got out, and smiled at him and said hi. He smiled real big back at me. I went in, got my milk, came out and told him to have a good night. He said thank you, that I should too. I got in my car and drove home.

So I made myself a promise. That from now on, even if my first instinct is to stay away, that I’m not going to continue what some in my family passed onto me. If I cross someone’s path, I will smile at them–whether they are black, white, or something else. Skin color doesn’t matter and everyone is an individual person who could use a smile.

Maybe one day a little black boy will cross my path and see a white woman who isn’t afraid of him, isn’t trying to stay away, and is nice to him. And he’ll think to himself that maybe his parents are wrong too and that not all white people think he isn’t as good.

Of course, I might really cross paths with someone who is bad someday. And maybe it will get me killed. But I think being nice to someone will get me a higher chance of them skipping over me to the next than if I tried to stay away. And if it does get me killed someday, at least I’m not perpetuating the cycle.

It’s better than living in perpetual fear that that person that looks a little different could hurt you or that the person knocking on your door in the middle of the night might be there for something else other than using your phone. We’ve got to give people the benefit of the doubt. We can’t always just assume they are bad and shut ourselves off. If we do, the world is only going to get more and more of those people. People are innocent until proven guilty, right?

I want to go back to being color blind and I’m going to do my best to achieve that. With one difference from the past: kindness rather than nonchalance.

I’m dead tired right now so please excuse the shortness of speech and description.

SUNDAY
On Sunday I stopped off at Publix to get a sub for my lunch later on that day and a coffee to ensure wakefullness that day and headed off on my four hour drive. I stopped at every other rest stop (eg. every hour and a half): the first to potty, the second to eat lunch. And, instead of stopping off at Grammas to drop off my stuff, I drove straight past the exit and on another 30 minutes to the hospital. I knew that if I got to the house first, I wouldn’t want to leave again. Then I stayed at the hospital for a few hours and then went back to Grammas planning to rest and sleep.

While I was at the hospital, Gramma shocked me. She was really pale, had to stay completely under the covers to stay warm (it was 70-80 degrees outside so not cold), and she couldn’t keep her neck raised at all she was so weak. But she talked and talked and talked. My uncle told me later that when she talked, her oxygen was normal because she was bringing in more but when she didn’t, it went down.

They didn’t do the procedure that day because they found out that she has Congestive Heart Failure, which I later found out means that your lungs get congested/have fluid in them and your heart can’t work fast enough to keep the fluid out. That’s what lowered her oxygen. Eventually, it will kill her because in essence she will drown from the fluid in her lungs. But not yet.

Because of her age (85) and the CHF, my uncle and other aunt were really worried that she’d die during the procedure the (probably) next day.

My plans for rest were thwarted. My uncle called me and asked if I wanted to come along with him to my aunt’s (they are getting a divorce so don’t live together any more, but are still somewhat friendly for the kids) to see my cousin Alicia. Of course, I said yes.

So we drove the hour and a half there. I had fun with her and my cousin Daniel for a few hours. And then Alicia convinced her mom to let her come back with us so she could see me. On our way back, my uncle stopped off at McDonalds for some icecream. By then it was 11:30 at night; so much for rest.

In the middle of the city, we came across a flashing sign that read “CAUTION: CATTLE IN AREA”. Of course, we convinced my uncle to drive back around so we could get a picture.

Then Alicia spent the night at Gramma’s house with me and kept me up til 2am remembering old memories. Of course, I’m used to getting up early and woke up on my own at 9am. I got up, got ready, and then finally lured her out of bed with the promise of Fruit Loops cereal.

MONDAY
I took Alicia to the bookstore to pick out some books for her Christmas/birthday present. I’ve got her hooked on Nicholas Sparks so she got two of those. Then we went to the mall and I got another fairy shirt and she got some Zac Efron and Miley Cyrus keychains and a calendar (did I mention she’ll be 12 on Monday?). Then we went by McDonalds for lunch on the way to the hospital, where we stayed for about an hour.

Gramma had had the procedure that morning where they stuck something down her throat and into her stomach as that is where they thought the bleeding was coming from. It was. She had five ulcers but they had already stopped bleeding and healing on their own.

Then we went back to my uncle’s and I got Alicia into my purple dress (funny that, except for the chest area of which I have more than her, we fit into the dress pretty much the same) and I took tons of pictures (photomanip possibilities, photo processing to be done, etc.). I showed her some of Arden and Jelena’s manips and she agreed to let me send the photos to you two for possible photomaniping so you’ll be getting those soon (read: after sleep, work, and classes).

Then we went back to my uncle’s and played Daniel’s Wii (he had a very merry christmas) for a few hours (me and Alicia tag-teamed during boxing and beat the shit out of four guys before having to rest. And then we went to a New Years Eve party at my uncle’s friend’s house. They had fireworks and sparklers and I got lots of pictures of which I won’t post here because fireworks are generally all the same and I haven’t gotten around to shrinking them yet. I will be sending them to Aelyn and Shadow, though, because they might be usable for some textures or something of that nature that I don’t make. XP

We left there around 11:30 because Alicia really wanted to see some of the musical acts on before the ball dropped (she was infinitely upset she missed Miley Cyrus). I wanted to go sleep but she insisted I stay up for midnight. I did. Her first words of 2008 were screaming at her brother to stop squeeling that it was 2008. heh.

Then I walked up to Grammas as they went outside to shoot fireworks. Before I could get to sleep, she came up too (half drunk on sparkling cider; she called it kid’s wine) and asked if we could look through Grampa’s war box (a box where gramma keeps all of his war pictures/information/etc.) which Gramma had told me where she kept the day before. I agreed and we looked through everything there. We also figured out the issue of his battalion: Like Gramma told me, on his separation papers it said the 645th battalion. But on his bronze star award and on the back of a photo it said the 746th. I googled the 746th on my phone and that battalion went exactly where he did.

We ended up staying up until 2:30am. I woke up at 9am. I dragged her out of bed at 11am. After taking pictures. XP

TUESDAY
After dragging Alicia out of bed, I drove to the bookstore to meet up with Effie and her chitlins. I got her son a giftcard for christmas and we wandered the bargain section for a few hours and he ended up getting 10 books and a Mr. Potato Head Transformers toy for $25. Of course, with my employee discount helping.

Then Effie and me got lunch while her husband took the kids home. Then we went to BodyTech to get me my tattoo. They were booked til 8pm but they had another place closer to Effie’s house that could fit us in 45 minutes from then. So we headed off.

Now, let me interject here and let you know that I had planned what I wanted. I wanted to get “skyefairy” on my right hip because 1) it was small and good for my first 2) I wouldn’t regret it as much as other things because it is me and relates into a lot of my life etc. It’s not just my site. It’s me in so many ways. But the idiot guy at the first tattoo place told me that I couldn’t get it there because my pants would rub it and mess it up. So we decided for me to get it on my lower back where Effie had one of hers.

Effie said that the tattoo fit me well because it thoroughly encompassed me. That I have this shy, sweet, innocent side to me that most people see and that I have this cool side that I hide and most people never see. That the tattoo was the cool side of me coming out and that that was awesome because it’s generally hard for someone to really get to know me that well.

But when she bent over, her shirt would ride up some, and it would be easily seen. I wanted mine in a place where I could hide it. 1) It’s mine and I dont’ want people to see it if I dont’ want them to. 2) I’d prefer to not have my dad know. So I was pretty freaked out. We got in there and he was about ready to start when I backed out. Effie understood and told me that she understood and I could always say no. She’s good like that. It wasn’t the pain I was afraid of; it was the permanence and the location.

So I asked her if she would do hers first. (She was getting one of hers touched up at the same time). So I watched hers and talked to the guy at the same time. He said that the guy at the first place was an idiot and I could get it where I wanted. That I would just have to be more careful with it on my hip because my pants COULD mess it up. With my nerves calmed with that, I plopped down on the chair and talked to Effie about her son and daughter throughout. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t tickle. A few places had a little pain but only lasted a few seconds. The hardest part was keeping my hands still while talking to Effie (I’m a hand-talker).

Ignore the shadows over it; that is my phone leaning over it to take a picture. It’s on my right hip.

Then I drove Effie home and headed back to Grammas. Alicia had a friend over so I got some sleep that night since they stayed over at my uncle’s.

Josh is somewhat frustrated with me because he wasn’t there for my tattoo but I’m not really sympathetic. Now he knows how I felt. Hmph. (He thought I’d back out from getting it with Effie because of the pain. Pft. I’m good with pain; I’m not weak and he should know that).

WEDNESDAY
Tuesday night/Wednesday morning, the temperature was below freezing and way too cold for North Florida. Gramma only had one little portable heater and I bundled up with four blankets. Those kept me warm but the second I got out of bed was horrible.

Then I freaked out for an hour or so about my tattoo. The permanence was sinking in. This is going to be on me forever O_O.

I read for a few hours and then went to see Gramma; I stayed with her for three-ish hours. She was doing a lot better. Could sit up with no problems. They had her walking earlier in the day. Her color was back. But they were talking about letting her out the next day and I didn’t think that they should. It was supposed to be even colder that night and not let up for a few days and she was much warmer there. Plus my aunt couldn’t make it to see her and take care of her until Sunday and I had to leave the next day. Not to mention the fact that she couldn’t go 24 hours without oxygen.

I went back to Gramma’s and read some more then went down to my uncle’s when they got home. We stayed up til midnight with him telling us old Grampa stories and old stories about my mom.

THURSDAY
Wednesday night/Thurs morning, the temperature was somewhere between 17 and 25. I took a shower cuz I had to and then sat by the heater for 15 minutes. Got ready, got my stuff in the car, and then walked down to say goodbye to my uncle and Daniel (Alicia was at school). Then I walked up to say goodbye to my great aunt (who kept talking for 45 minutes, constantly saying “I hate to see you go”).

Then I got gas and some lunch and was on the road by 1pm. Got home right before 5pm. Slept good that night.

Finally beginning to accept my tattoo.

They let her out that night *sigh*

FRIDAY
I called Gramma this morning and she said that she was really weak. My great aunt stayed the night with her to help out which was good.

Got stuff ready for classes starting Monday. Transferred the 500ish pictures I took onto my computer. Got caught up with some sites. Typed this. And now I go to sleep. Work tomorrow

Ps. Yay for Obama in Iowa

The “good girl” of the family, Jamie Lynn Spears has officially announced that she is 3 months pregnant. With the news of the sixteen-year-old’s pregnancy comes much controversy. Shadow and I were chatting about it on MSN and this post sort of spawned.

The post is REALLY long; you have been warned: Read the rest of this entry »