I feel compelled to share this story.
This evening I opened up space to go with the flow and simply be with God in whatever way that manifested itself. I found myself aimlessly driving through Cuyahoga Valley National Park, the hills and vast expanses of sky serenading and recalibrating my spirit.
As I began meandering back to Akron, I was open to whatever was to be. I felt that there was a sweet gift I was to receive, and I opened my eyes to look around me anticipating that when I saw it, I would know. Much time passed, but soon I saw it and knew it was the gift. I pulled into the parking lot and laughed boisterously in delight, so excited for the continuation of this sweet time with God.
I was in the parking lot of a Mediterranean grocery store in the Falls. Arabic lined the windows in big bold script, and an OPEN sign flashed next to the door. I found myself laughing in delight once again--this was such a gift. I have a deep deep value for culture, and value being intentional in surrounding myself not with my culture of origin. I value spaces like these, these little cultural enclave grocery stores, markets, and restaurants. I value these spaces because I want Akron to be a safe space for all. I value these spaces because I want Akron to be a space of flourishing and celebration of all. I value these spaces because my life is enriched by them as I enter in a posture of humility and learning--I learn much about the world and myself from entering these spaces and relationships.
God knows this about me, and speaks to me in cross-cultural situations, spaces, places, and relationships. It made sense that the way we would end the evening would be here.
I walked up to the mart in the plaza, and opened the door, my aura peaceful and rested. I am always cautious when I am entering spaces where I am not familiar with the culture. I want to communicate respect, honor, and celebration in these sacred spaces. I began walking through the aisles, looking at the spices--cardamom being the only one I can remember. Soon I was looking at olives, cans of hummus, the Arabic script rich and bold and beautiful. I wondered about Arabic, and if that was a language or a language group, and where Farsi fit into that. I thought of my friend Phoebe who taught me much about the Middle East, and who was the first to introduce me to Mediterranean cuisine. I thought about how much she would love this space.
I share this entire story to share about one moment. I was rounding the corner from the coffee and teas when I looked up and suddenly she was looking right into my eyes and I into hers. I felt bashful at the moment, like she saw right through me and knew that I didn't really know a lot about what was around me. What struck me, though, was how she was looking at me. Usually when I'm in these spaces I get questioning looks, whether I'm in the Asian market, the Mexican grocery store, the Korean restaurant, or the hole in the wall Asia mart on Brown St. I expect the questioning looks--people want to know why I'm there. This look was different, though. She was looking at me incredibly caught off guard, a deer in headlight look.
I broke into a smile and a small giggle at her, fascinated by her. All at once I saw the tension leave her shoulders in a sigh and she smiled bashfully back at me.
"Hi," we both said, smiling. We walked by one another and the moment was over, but I found myself being bothered by our initial meeting. I rounded the corner and we were once again in the same aisle. I didn't understand why, but I felt the need to connect with her on a commonality. I felt the need to communicate to her that I wasn't afraid of her, but instead found her to be radiant. A car alarm went off outside and I shyly said "Oops...car alarms." She looked at me and smiled as the alarm suddenly stopped and said, "They got the door."
It was a simple interaction, but I felt at peace about it and saw that she saw in my intentionality to connect. Soon I was alone in the aisle and she was at the counter, talking and laughing with the employees in a beautiful mixture of what I assumed was Arabic and snippets of English. I marveled at the sounds that were newer to my ears, and found myself aching for this woman I just met.
Why did I feel the need to communicate to her that I wasn't afraid of her? I recognized that I was responding to that initial deer in headlight look from her where it became clear that she was waiting on me to respond to her presence. All at once I became aware of the situation on a social level. I, a white woman, may have felt fearful of her presence as a Muslim woman. The hijab, a part of religious devotion, may have been interpreted by me through a lens of fear. I never once felt afraid of this woman, but I saw her brace herself for me to essentially reject her presence in fear and hate.
I don't keep up much with current events, but I know there has been sheer hate and irrational fear directed towards Muslims, and I know that Islamophobia is a real evil (here's what it looks like in action). I know it is evil, because I saw it's ramifications in the eyes of my new friend as she set her eyes on me, a white person. I saw her shut down to cope. I wonder about the interactions she has to work through on a day to day basis in Akron. I have nothing but assumptions but I wonder if she deals with stares and fear from strangers on a daily basis. I think about how draining that would be to have to be on guard everywhere you go, to feel threatened and afraid. I finish up my
time in the Mediterranean food mart, laughing with the store clerks and
learning more about the store. Between the clerks and the others in the
store, there is a deep sense of family and community and safety. They
are sweet to me. I am grateful.
I hear us as a nation saying we're the land of the free, but I hardly believe that we are the land of the free. If all in this nation were truly free to be their full and true selves, our nation would look entirely different. It would look different in that my Muslim sister would never have felt that she was threatened by my presence because to her I look like fear and hate (because maybe people who look like me interact with her in fear and hate). It would look different in that the statement #blacklivesmatter would never need to be proclaimed, because it's a truth that we embody as a nation interpersonally, collectively, and communally. It would look different in that each and every individual would know that this nation not only is a cultural safe space, but a space of cultural flourishing--a space where the image of God is acknowledged in everyone's personhood. I yearn for that in our nation. I yearn for us to indeed be the land of the free and flourishing because I believe that is how Jesus would lead a kingdom or nation.
Although I don't see how the United States is home of the free, I must admit that God has invited me to see through time and teachings--through the stories of and relationships with people of color, immigrants, refugees, Muslims--that this is indeed the home of the brave.
Edit: As I read over this post, I'm concerned I became too wordy and in that process am not communicating what I felt compelled to share in the first place which is that this evening I saw first hand Islamophobia's psychological effects on real people. Islamophobia is not love, and it's evil is harming an entire population of people. If you're reading this and you know you experience fear (or even hate) in the presence of Muslims (or anyone that you perceive in that "other" category), why do you feel/think that is? What do you believe love looks like in the face of fear/hate? If you desire to be a person of love, how can you step towards this? How can we humanize, not demonize?
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