Faces

by: Elexis Penner

 

My daughter was in a clothing store a few weeks back, and she witnessed a verbal altercation between two women. Well, altercation kind of implies a two-sided event. This was not that.

There was a line-up at the till. The first woman in line was pushing a stroller. The hijab she wore and her tentative pronunciations implied that she may have been somewhat new to Canada. It appeared that she may have cut into the lineup, and the next woman was visibly and audibly upset. She was berating the first woman loudly, telling her how rude she was for keeping all these people waiting.

The first woman was trying to respond, flusteredand apologetic, but with her halted English, could not seem to get the words out. And, as the floor refused to co-operate and open up and swallow her whole, she hurried her stroller out of the store, head down in hot shame.

And in the shock and humiliation of the moment, my daughter responded the way many of us do when we’re stunned – she couldn’t move. Later, as she went through the mall, she watched for the woman with the baby, to see if she was okay, and maybe offer some consolation. But of course she never saw her. Who could keep shopping and act like nothing happened after that. I imagined that she went home.

But the other woman did not, and my daughter noticed her in another store. So she got up the courage to approach her.

She told the woman that she had noticed the incident, and her irritation. She suggested that the woman with the baby might be new to the country. She pointed out that she didn’t seem very fluent in English, and might not be familiar with the customs, and that she probably didn’t do it intentionally – likely just a misunderstanding.

To which the woman replied, “Well, these things are just getting out of hand.” What?

My daughter continued, certain she could instill some empathy by explaining that sometimes when people immigrate here, they’ve left really hard situations. And it takes some time to get used to things in a new country.

But the woman would not back down, “Well if I moved to a new country, I’d learn the language and customs first.”

Oh.

Like that.

I wondered if that would be before or after she’d been forced from her home?

My daughter told me this story in tears. Tears because the woman with the baby reminded her of some of her friends’ moms. Women who have left their countries because moving across the world to a strange place was somehow more bearable than staying where they were.

She was angry. “Mom, I could have hit her. It would have been so easy.”

I told her that Jesus wouldn’t want us to hit anyone. But I wondered if He would have minded us leaving a strongly worded message on her car. With our keys.

I have a pretty short fuse. This is not the same thing, but one group of people I tend to lose it with is slow drivers. I have a bad habit of perpetually rushing. I’m usually in a hurry, and there have been numerous times where, halfway to work, I’ve had to look down to see if I’m even fully dressed. I know – this is wrong, this is unhealthy, this is unsafe – I’m trying to change.

But whenever I see a Student Driver sign in the back window of another car, I do change. I’m not ticked. I’m all like, no rush – it takes time to learn this!!

And I think this is generally how things go – when we know something about someone else’s story, it changes how we see them. There are some stories I wish we could all hear.

I wish we all knew that the move to Canada is not generally about a change of climate (ummm.. Winter?) or to learn about a new culture. This is often a matter of survival. In Canada we really have no concept of having to leave our country, likely not to return for a long time.

I wish we all knew about my friend who told me that their family did not come to Canada because they had no homes, or because they had no food – they came to have peace. In other words, if it had only been that they were homeless, or if it had only been that they were hungry, it would have been enough to stay. Please let that sink in for a moment.

I wish we all could have experienced the sharing night at Hopes and Dreams – a weekly get-together of Old Canadians and New Canadians in our town. Several people shared about how they had Hopes of obtaining an education that would help them go back to their home country and try to mend what’s broken.

I think we sometimes forget that we are a nation of immigrants, of strangers. And we are called to help strangers. As followers of Jesus, and as human beings.

This is not about forcing anyone to change or accommodate for anyone else. This is not only about discrimination because, really, yelling at anyone in a public place for something trivial is bad form. This is about empathy.

The ironic thing is that the irritated woman in the store has a story, too. I realize I’m not being entirely fair to her because I don’t know her story either. I don’t know what her day or life had thrown at her. I have my own moments that are pretty ugly when you roll the tape.

Maybe I’m over-reacting – maybe it was just an isolated incident. But I’m not sure if that’s true. And that’s not the point. And the day that I start to play it down, is the day I am part of the problem. And if there is a chance that the woman with the baby went home and resigned herself to the thought that this is just how it is – THAT’S NOT OKAY. There can’t be a do-over, but there can be a do-better.

Any time we catch ourselves with an us and them mentality, on any level, it’s important to remember where it leads, to remember where that path goes. That path ends up with us placing more value on some human beings than others.

I heard a quote recently, “Enemies are people whose story you haven’t heard, or whose face you haven’t seen.”

Enemy might be a strong word, but at the heart, this quote reminds me to see faces – faces God created in all of us.