You know how kind kids can be. Especially if there’s something different about another kid, that’s when their kindness really shines through. Remember when a new kid came to school? Everyone made him feel so welcome you just wanted to cry. In fact, a lot of those new or different kids did cry.
It seems to me that same sort of ‘kindness’ is still alive and well, right alongside the kid in all of us. You don’t even need an infirmity, a two point I.Q. or a different skin color; you can be just as different if you’re too brainy, beautiful or a little taller. Whatever the offending characteristic, it stifles the fuller acceptance most of us naturally crave. So, if we’re really looking for acceptance, and not just testing people’s kindness quotient, why do we work so hard at emphasizing differences instead of pointing to the things we have in common?
I watched a group on television a few nights ago as they discussed fallout from the Imus faux pas. The conversation quickly turned to Rap music and other demeaning cultural phenomena. It wasn’t the subject matter as much as its presentation that caught my attention. The group talked about African-Americans, Latino-Americans, Native-Americans and one fellow actually made all the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up, when he mentioned European-Americans. For a second I didn’t know what that was. Then, I realized it was my classification! Or was it? I never thought of myself that way before, any more than I think of my friends as wearing some self-deceptive label. I am an American, just an American, no hyphen! Gary is an American whose skin happens to be brown. Chin is an American whose beautiful eyes have the slightly curved hint of a smile at the corners. I have tall friends, short friends, fat friends, skinny friends, mocha friends, friends who are pink and even a few stupid friends. But we’re all just Americans and we fit together nicely, no Hyphens.
This hyphenation foolery is the most divisive load of bull droppings man ever loaded into his luggage. In marriage, I’ve rarely seen a Cynthia Waldon-Numnutz not wind up with a terrific lawyer and more than half of everything poor John Numnutz ever owned. However, I have known several John and Cindy Numnutzes with long, loving relationships. It’s harder to work together when you’re divided by a dash. We live in the United States. I don’t see a hyphen in there but I wonder if some people mentally insert one anyway. In the larger sense, I understand pride in one’s heritage, even though I’ve been known to list my own ancestry as ‘mutt’. Where your ancestors originated may be interesting but that doesn’t define you. It defines them. Look back, if you must, but don’t stare.
Which sounds like more of a good time: Going to a party where you’ll be meeting a German-American, an Anglo-American, an African-American and two Italian-Americans or going to a party where there’s just a bunch of really great people having fun? Same people, different attitude. Personally, I don’t care where anybody’s great, great grandparents came from, as long as I don’t have to drive them home. I’ll guarantee if you’re Black and go to Mozambique, you won’t be welcomed as someone’s African-American friend. You’ll be their friend from America, who doesn’t speak the language.
A lot of people, these days, lose track of Martin Luther King’s real dream. It wasn’t to have a colorful group of hyphens dragging through life, hoping that some other colorful group of hyphens will agree to like them or be legislated into treating them respectfully. It was about a world where skin color isn’t noticed in the first place; where, more than just being equal, we are one. By the way, that holds true for religion and nationality as well. Want pride? Appreciate where you are and what you have. It’s rare. Feel pride in being an American. For my money, truly accepting people is way more important than worrying about not offending them or making sure their self esteem is polished. So much for ‘P.C.’ Maybe what we need is a little more T.S. [thick skin].
I’m not certain how we got off course but we need to stop pointing to the differences and start embracing our common bonds, if we are ever again be the cohesive, productive society forged by the immigrants who built this great nation. They came from everywhere to be Americans, they came legally, and the only entitlement they received was opportunity. They had no hyphens. Until we get rid of ours, the best we can hope for is being subject to the kindness of those other kids on the playground. The neighborhood is changing and you know how kind kids can be.
R.S.F.
0 Responses to “Hyphens”