The American Quilt

Let me tell you about Kathy.

A couple of days ago, I found this tiny little grocery that actually has fresh veggies such as lettuce, tomatoes, garlic, onion, broccoli, milk, eggs, even frozen dinners. I don't often find such variety here. Now in my experience (all one week of it), the majority of grocery owners are immigrants who may or may not speak great English. Fully expecting this to be the case, I did not expect much from my Asian lady grocer.

I went to the grocery store today and I asked a question. The asian woman, whose name I now know to be Kathy, answers me with flawless English in a brilliant Staten Island accent. We had the nicest conversation. She warned me about where the thugs like to mug people, even told me where to meet the most ethical single guys! (I don't actually remember where she said but I will definitely ask again for those who are curious!) Probably the nicest and most helpful person I have met in Staten Island so far. Unbelievable! How dare I, with my college education and somewhat progressive political views, expect anything from this woman BUT that she is American??

Immediately prior to going to the grocery store, I stopped in the pharmacy on the corner. As I was waiting in line, I noticed that the man directly behind the counter was middle eastern (dark complected, thick accent. Possibly Arabic?) The man behind him was hispanic. The customer at the counter was a black man who had run into what I assume to be his friend: a very old Asian man. There were laughing and ribbing each other in the humorous way old men do. And there was a white boy about my age sitting in a chair, waiting on his prescription. In one six-square-foot area, each of the major racial and gender divisions was represented. It was a very cool moment in which I truly felt the quilted nature of American society.

In church on Sunday, I noticed a multitude of people who are not in my socioeconomic grouping. I had no idea I'd been living in such a predominantly white society. I was shocked by the number of black people in a Church of Christ. I was taken aback by the not one, but TWO women who were passing communion trays. I was incredulous observing a blind woman with a three-year-old seeing daughter who knew to take her mother's hand and place it on the stairwell railing. There was even a young boy, about eight years old, who didn't have his left arm below the elbow.

Shame on me.

There is no reason not to expect these things. Not after the efforts of the women at the turn of the century to gain the right to vote. Not after the efforts of Martin Luther King, Jr. and his followers to gain racial equality. Not after my personal voyages to Israel, Ukraine, Amsterdam, where I saw so much injustice and inequality, so much poverty and prejudice. How dare I expect the world to be homogenous. This is a new century. This is a new culture.

I was humbled today in the most important way possible. Not every is like me. Not everyone has had my blessings. Not everyone has had my curses. The thing about it is, this would not be America without our differences. This would not be America without our opportunities. But this is America. We have curses, differences, blessings, and opportunities. Why would we ever expect anything less?