Its fun to people watch! Our world is full of such variety, and good thing. It would be a boring world without it. Gender, race, religion, gender identity - such a garden. But I noticed something in myself that I don't like and here I am telling on myself.
I tend to make snap judgements about people based on appearance or tone of voice. I hate that I do that and I'm immediately sorry and change my thought pattern, but that first reaction is there, negative stereotypes. An obese man went by on the store Scooter. "Probably ate himself into obesity." Talking to someone about their diabetes - "Well if they'd lay off the sugar.." Screaming children - "spoiled brats". The cranky old woman - "Old battle ax". Anyone who doesn't look like me and mine - "Am I safe?" "Just like a _______ to ______." When the fact is, I don't know the medical history of any of these people. I don't live in their homes. I don't see what happened just before they got to Walmart, or what's waiting for them at home. I don't know their personal histories or tragedies. How can I judge on the basis of a 4 second glance?
Forty years ago my mother got cancer. By the time they found it and operated, it had spread everywhere. (By a miracle she recovered and lived for another 30 years.) I was going to lose my mother in the worst possible way. And I had only just had a baby who would never know this remarkable woman. I went to the grocery store, in a daze, and knocked something off the shelf. Didn't even realize it. Until an elderly lady walked up to me, a stranger, and said, "I saw you knock that down and you didn't even pick it up. You're the reason prices are so high." I burst into tears and said, "My mother is dying and I can't see straight!" And she said, "Yeah right." and walked off in disgust. I have never forgotten how that felt. One can knocked to the floor defined me.
Ten years ago, my father died and I took mother to the grocery store. He loved to shop and this store was the last place he had gone. We took his suit to the funeral home, then to Superfresh. Inside the door, helping my crippled and mourning mother into the Scooter, I met someone I've tussled with from time to time. He said in a monotone, "Hellohowareyou". With tears in my eyes I said, "Not so good..." That's all I got out before his whole expression changed to one of disgust. He turned and walked away. I know he didn't know my father had just died. But his first response was to assume it was old negative depressed Martha again. He defined me by my emotions.
Today I was speaking with a businessman I know and like. Very good man. Who is gay. Femininely so. I felt the thought rising and stopped it before it saw the light of day. His gender identity doesn't define him. It doesn't even enter into the equation. It hasn't got anything to do with anything. But something in people, not just me, reacts so nastily to the person who doesn't meet our moral standards or our stereotypes of what a man and woman should look like, talk like, walk like, feel or behave. What is it in humans that makes them define a person by their mannerisms or personal life? Fear? Probably.
I'm not perfect and I'll probably do it again. But I'm in there trying!
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