| He went on, trying to redeem himself:
"But when you see two exotic looking women…"
This American just didn't know when to stop.
Exotic? That's what you call an Asian elephant or a rare
monkey, not a girl in a bar—because exotic, in essence, means
different, alien, foreign. (Seriously, look it up.) That's why he
didn't think we were American. Gotcha.
The night's episode got me thinking: How far have
we really come when a blond man in a yuppie bar feels the need to
casually ask a brown girl if she is American?
Just when you think everyone has the lyrics to Bob Marley's "One
Love" embedded deep into their brains, you are sadly reminded
that some neighbors suffer from chronic memory loss.
I have frequently claimed that I have never experienced
racism. I'm beginning to think I've been naïve—or, as I
would still prefer to interpret it, a bit idealistic. I now realize
that prejudice doesn't have to be blatant.
I am reminded of another incident that occurred only
a couple weeks earlier. While hailing a cab after a night out dancing,
I decided to take off my four-inch heels on the open road. (Ladies,
I know you feel my pain.) The coolness of the graveled ground was
quite invigorating, actually.
Unavoidably, an inebriated Bostonian who wasn’t
South Asian, took special interest. (Note to aforementioned American
in bar: Yes, if you can believe it, ethnic South Asians can be Bostonians,
too!) He hollered, "Hey look, that girl doesn't have her shoes
on! That's because she's Indian! She's NOT American!"
Needless to say, I spewed some profanity at him.
(I had had a few myself.) Interestingly, my half-Korean, half-Indian
companion was still wearing her shoes. It must have been
her Korean half that compelled her to keep them on.
So, in both instances, could it have just been the
alcohol unintentionally triggering the ignorance of my fellow city-dwellers?
Sadly, I admit that might be my persistent idealism talking.
If you are anything like me, you're South Asian but
grew up in America. You've been walking the streets of every city
you've been to, thinking that nobody is looking at you as if you are
any different. Frankly, you figure most people don't care whether
you are American since you don’t really care whether they are.
It is just not an issue. Moreover, when you go to South Asia—the
place people here might think you are from—your relatives refer
to you as American. What are we and where do we fit in?
In this rainbow-striped country, aren't our differences what bring
us together? Hasn’t there been an evolution in the understanding
of what an American is? What happened to that melting pot full of
all those black, white, yellow, brown and purple people everyone always
talks about? Or are we all so separated that we only see what we want
to see?
Maybe my friend and I were just being too sensitive.
Some might tell us to get over it. So the guy in the bar was a jerk.
Do you have to go make an example of him? Does that mean all men in
Boston bars are equally dim? (If you really want to know, that's another
essay for another time.)
One could argue that bars play host to people from all walks of life.
A mixture of society and ethnicities come together and connect. We
may live in neighborhoods with people of similar economic, social
and even ethnic backgrounds, but when we venture out into the social
scene of cocktails and conversation, we are forced to explore and
ultimately learn. And the blond in the bar learned a thing or two
from us. Yes, bars can even be educational.
Thank Bhagwan (God), for the power of one.
If I let it go, this kind of ignorance would continue to
breed itself. I can guarantee that the aforementioned American man
in the bar will never ask that question again, sober or wasted. (He
was more than coherent, by the way.) He might even repeat the embarrassing
scenario to his close friends. And maybe, just maybe, they will think
twice about what it is to be American, as well. Maybe instead of breeding
ignorance by overlooking it, we can breed intelligence by discussing
it.
There goes that idealism again.
Gitika Ahuja is TV news producer currently posted in Boston, MA. In
her free time she enjoys frequenting Beantown pubs in hopes of stimulating
cultural exchange with fellow Bostonians. She'd love to hear your
tales from the tavern and can be reached at gitika@gmail.com.
The views expressed in this section are those
of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of ABCDlady.
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