Discovering people’s prejudices always makes for an interesting study in one’s own convictions. Not so much one’s expression of convictions, but one’s emotional and intellectual response.
I was asked to have a traditional Korean dinner last night after a day of teaching — an invitation I had been waiting with baited breath from some time, as I am in dire need of guide. My co-worker, Ron, a good man from Texas, who thoroughly loves teaching, and perhaps reads minds, took me to a local restaurant and introduced me to some of Korea’s best cuisine, as per my silent wish.
We talked long on things work-related, Korea-related, America-related, and made fun of the fact that we foreigners will never speak Korean and melodiously as the natives (to their ears).
About half-way through dinner, Ron gave Alex, another teacher at school, a call and invited him to join us. When Alex arrived, he regaled me with his life story. He was born in Europe and grew up on Florida. His father was a pilot for Pan Am. He went to a predominately Jewish private school, despite not being one himself. And when he recounted his experience there, he became irate with the discriminatory treatment he received for being German.
He made it clear that he believed his exclusion from participating in sports was because he was German and German’s are stereotyped as being anti-Semitic. After which, in effect, he cursed the Jews. Eventually, he managed to disparage American Blacks for reproducing too greatly (ignorant of the fact that the birthrate among American Blacks has fallen below 2.1 children — the recognized sustainability rate).
But this post isn’t about the bigotry of someone who is effectively a stranger to me. This post is about the way in which I responded to it.
His statements were despicable. Whatever mistreatment he received as a child had nothing to do with Jews as a whole. He had an asshole for a coach — nothing more.
But what struck me was that I found my view of Europeans reinforced by a prejudicial lens: they are as anti-Semitic as ever, and that makes them “unclean” in my eyes. Combine that with what the former-Soviet pianist, for whom I used to write lyrics, said about Jews (she, for the most part, hated the USSR, but didn’t necessarily disagree with the forced removal of Jews from political power in Soviet Russia), and a view of global anti-Semitism emerges.
And I reflexively envisioned my own country, the United States, as a bastion of racial/religious acceptance. (Not “tolerance.” America accepts your background, but won’t tolerate bad behavior.) I began seeing the rest of the world — during that brief dinner — as a cesspool of hate and ignorance.
This is a hyperbolized metaphor; I recognize this, and I give it the salt it deserves. However, it is naive to think such bigotry has somehow evaporated off the face of the Earth. And to think that America isn’t a beautiful anomaly is indicative of a mind that knows no adversity. After all, (to borrow a quote) it isn’t how badly America has treated a few people, but how well it has treated so many.
And then it hit me.
As far as life on this planet goes, it isn’t about what we believe. It is about how we act (the movie “Gran Torino” comes to mind). Harry Truman was known to use derogatory epithets against Jews, but he was also instrumental in creating a recognized Jewish state.
It isn’t the bigotries of individuals that we must fear and loathe. It is the bigotries of groups, mobs, and masses that kill. In time, perhaps Alex will mellow, thus weakening the figurative “mob” of unaddressed personal prejudices.
