Beauty

...is in the differences. This was never real to me growing up. Sure, my little sister is Chinese, and we spent time at multicultural festivals, but there was never any real interaction there. My experiences were of someone who saw from afar, different people, but did not comprehend. This became especially obvious to me (and I learned that I am a sad confused little boy) at a recent visit to Meijer. The particular Meijer store I went to is often referred to as "ghetto" Meijer, and I had never been there before.

Let's be clear, this was no grand revelation, which is what makes it particularly pitiful. Apparently during any interaction that I've had with Africans or Hispanics or Asians, or any other race, I have been in the majority. At Meijer last week I was in the minority. This certainly wasn't the first time that I've been in the minority as a Caucasian, however it was probably the first time it was salient to me. How sad is it, that as a 20 year old college student, I finally became aware of such a thing. The worst part, the part that makes me feel utterly juvenile is that I was very uneasy. Pathetically uneasy. I felt like a racist pig, in my feelings of unease. There was no reason to feel ill at ease, yet there I was, dodging eye contact like one of those racist fathers depicted in movies about the south before/during the Civil Rights movement. These feeling hurt me; hurt that I felt like I had to act that way.

It seemed that for all of my welcoming intentions, my reaction went around my brain's back. My visceral reaction brought me to the sad and obvious realization that racism is not over. Academically, I believe in the beauty of difference, in the celebration of difference, and in the realization that for all of our outward differences, we are the same. We are a tapestry, beautiful in scope, that is made of the same thread. The strands are of course individually beautiful, however in combination they set each other off. African thread looks different than Caucasian thread, looks different than Hispanic thread, looks different than Asian thread, BUT IS THREAD!

I realize I've said nothing new in this post. It is intended to draw to the forefront of my mind something that needs to change in me. It is intended to show me that I have to rectify my instinctive reaction with that which I believe in my heart.

Diversity is pulchritudinous. I want to feel that in addition to knowing it.