Empty Seats
It's taken me a while to get used to being an outsider. For the first time in my life I am a minority. It is a lonely status to hold - one that I had never given a second thought to before. I had always considered myself and open-minded and accepting person - race, color, religion, lifestyle - I accept all of it. The more the merrier. However, just because I have always felt that way, doesn't mean that I have always been a true advocate for diversity or even just a kind, welcoming human. Silent acceptance of someone that is different from you - someone that may feel very alone, or may not - really only does you good. You know how you feel, but no one ele does. It does no good for the person that is out there searching, just looking for a place to sit and be welcome.
I bring this up because here I am, in the reverse position. I am the lost one, craving human interaction and acceptance. A simple smile with eye contact from a stranger literally makes my day. Even better than that is when someone sits by me on the train or goes out on a limb to say hello. It is difficult for me to believe, even as it is happening to me, but I can sit down on a train, and other passengers choose to stand rather than take the seats on either side of me. This coming from a group of people that has very little regard for personal space really speaks volumes.
One afternoon before we left for Japan, the family and I were shopping. The woman that was ringing us up began speaking about languages and foreigners, human resources and jobs that require bi-lingual speakers. She was an older lady - probably already retired once and just working part-time at the department store to fill her days. She went on to give us her two scents about people coming to America, how "unfair it was to us, Americans, to have to speak their language. " Yada, yada, yada. She went on for a bit. We just listened, bought Lil's jeans and made our way out of the store. I had mixed feelings at the time - she was very harsh and one sided, but I could also see the point that maybe there needed to be more effort made on the part of non-English speakers moving to the US. Of course there are always a million variables to consider, but to make one bold sweeping statement, give them a break! It is hard, so hard, to be a person with a reasonable head on their shoulders, someone that is educated and had generally found daily living to be doable if not easy - to walk down the street and be rendered illiterate. (To give you an example, we were getting a cup of coffee. There were two clear bottles of liquid on the condiment counter. Both were labeled but I couldn't read them. I figured one was sugar syrup, as is common here. The other, I wasn't sure of. All I can say is that I am glad I tasted the "syrup" before I ruined my coffee with it. Hand sanitizer just doesn't taste all that great in coffee...)
Full circle - I was waiting for the train today. There I sat, in the end seat of a row of five. Seats 1, 3, and 5 (me) were taken. If someone does choose to brave it and sit next to me it is usually a middle aged man. Not today. Today a little old lady came and sat next to me. She proceeded to talk to me, touch my hair, my skin, my ears for 15 minutes until the train came. By the end of her examination of me I was glad for the train to arrive, but I was also strangely thankful for all her poking and prodding. She was kind. We could only communicate a few words to each other. The boldest statement she made was to choose the empty seat next to me rather than the other, seat 2.
Next time you see someone that doesn't look like you, might be from somewhere else, or just appears lonely, please smile. Say hello.
I bring this up because here I am, in the reverse position. I am the lost one, craving human interaction and acceptance. A simple smile with eye contact from a stranger literally makes my day. Even better than that is when someone sits by me on the train or goes out on a limb to say hello. It is difficult for me to believe, even as it is happening to me, but I can sit down on a train, and other passengers choose to stand rather than take the seats on either side of me. This coming from a group of people that has very little regard for personal space really speaks volumes.
One afternoon before we left for Japan, the family and I were shopping. The woman that was ringing us up began speaking about languages and foreigners, human resources and jobs that require bi-lingual speakers. She was an older lady - probably already retired once and just working part-time at the department store to fill her days. She went on to give us her two scents about people coming to America, how "unfair it was to us, Americans, to have to speak their language. " Yada, yada, yada. She went on for a bit. We just listened, bought Lil's jeans and made our way out of the store. I had mixed feelings at the time - she was very harsh and one sided, but I could also see the point that maybe there needed to be more effort made on the part of non-English speakers moving to the US. Of course there are always a million variables to consider, but to make one bold sweeping statement, give them a break! It is hard, so hard, to be a person with a reasonable head on their shoulders, someone that is educated and had generally found daily living to be doable if not easy - to walk down the street and be rendered illiterate. (To give you an example, we were getting a cup of coffee. There were two clear bottles of liquid on the condiment counter. Both were labeled but I couldn't read them. I figured one was sugar syrup, as is common here. The other, I wasn't sure of. All I can say is that I am glad I tasted the "syrup" before I ruined my coffee with it. Hand sanitizer just doesn't taste all that great in coffee...)
Full circle - I was waiting for the train today. There I sat, in the end seat of a row of five. Seats 1, 3, and 5 (me) were taken. If someone does choose to brave it and sit next to me it is usually a middle aged man. Not today. Today a little old lady came and sat next to me. She proceeded to talk to me, touch my hair, my skin, my ears for 15 minutes until the train came. By the end of her examination of me I was glad for the train to arrive, but I was also strangely thankful for all her poking and prodding. She was kind. We could only communicate a few words to each other. The boldest statement she made was to choose the empty seat next to me rather than the other, seat 2.
Next time you see someone that doesn't look like you, might be from somewhere else, or just appears lonely, please smile. Say hello.
Lovely!! I found the people I encountered in Japan always helpful & friendly. I sure hope we get to come and visit next year.
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