The Day I Learned About “Being Ashy” (And Other Lessons in Intercultural Communication)

Note: This past summer I spent my days at South Street Ministries, an inner-city ministry in Akron, Ohio that is focused on the holistic community development and revitalization of the Summit Lake neighborhood. 

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I remember the day that I was fed up with feeling as if I was being left in the dark.

The kids were frolicking around during free time at summer camp when that mysterious word was brought up again—ashy. I had heard it over and over this summer from the kids, but couldn’t understand what it meant even in its various contexts. “I’m ashy; do you have lotion?”  “But if we go swimming we’ll get all ashy!”

I had been sitting on the porch swing—next to the sassy 11-year-old and company—when it came up again. By this time, I had been at South Street an entire month and felt comfortable enough to express my sudden exasperation to the group.

“OKAY!” I literally screeched. “I GIVE UP. What do you mean when you say, ‘I’m ashy?’ I’ve been trying for figure it out for weeks now! Can you…tell me…please?” My voice nervously trailed off at I met the silent, sassy stares of the four young preteens (who seemed to be enjoying having knowledge that I didn’t.)

The 11-year-old’s eyebrows shot up as if to inquire if my question’s legitimacy.

“I really don’t know!” I quickly added. I started regretting admitting my ignorance to the girls.

“Being ashy,” the 11-year-old began, “is when your skin is dry. It’s just dry skin. And when your skin is dry, it looks like there’s ash on you.”

“So the lotion, then, gets rid of the ‘ashy-ness’?” I asked, attempting to connect the dots.

They started snickering. Clearly this was common knowledge. “Yes,” the 11-year-old answered, “lotion makes you not ashy.”

“Okay then.” I nodded my head, taking in the answer. “Thanks. I learned something new today!”

The four lovely gals still stared at me, as if knowing I wasn’t done with my questions.

Already they knew me all too well.

“But wait,” I interjected, having just one more question. “Why have I never heard of this term “ashy” before?”

The 11-year-old tilted her head to the side with attitude. CLEARLY I was missing something.

“You’re white,” she stated bluntly.

I looked at their skin colors, ranging from tan to chestnut to deep mahogany and then looked at my own apricot skin.

“Yes…And?” Clearly I WAS missing something.

“Your skin is too pasty. When your skin is dry it doesn’t show up like it does on us, so you don’t get ashy.” The rest of the girls nodded in agreement.

“OHHHHHH!” I exclaimed. The light bulb was shining and all the puzzle pieces was fitting together. I understood. I got it.

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This one brief interaction has stuck out to me as a highlight out of all of the experiences of this past summer. As I’ve reflected on it, I see now how this story serves as an example of lessons that I’ve been processing lately regarding intercultural communication.

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Three Things That I’m Kinda Starting to Learn about Intercultural Communication / Cross-Cultural Communication:

 1. My awareness and knowledge is primarily limited to my experience (unless pursued otherwise).

•    I can only relay to others what I myself have experienced. For example, if you asked me about what growing up dancing was like, I would be able to give you a pretty clear picture based on my dancing experiences for the entirely of my childhood and teen years. If you asked me what it was like participating in sports during childhood, however, I would have nothing to contribute based on my experiences. I could talk about what my assumptions are about growing up with sports, or even make general statements of my own, but these wouldn’t be as potent as the direct life experience I have with dancing during childhood. 

• Relating to the South Street Story: Because of my lighter skin, I haven’t experienced being ashy. Because I hadn’t/haven’t experienced it, it was a term that was unfamiliar to me (and was something that I wasn’t even aware of). This is an indicator to me that if something is not in my realm of experiences, I’m basically unaware of it, just as I was unaware of the meaning of “being ashy” until the girls educated me. As I’m beginning to understand how limited I am in my experiences, I’m beginning to understand the importance of learning from others instead of making assumptions about experiences that I don’t have (and I’m talking about large societal experiences here y’all, not just this small story example). 

 2. I will not know what I do not know unless I ask and then listen.

• Relating to the South Street Story: I wouldn’t know what “being ashy” meant to the gals at South Street unless I asked them. It’s simple, but yet it’s truth. I could have made assumptions, but who’s to say that these assumptions would have been anywhere close to what the girls interpreted “being ashy” to mean? Asking is something that I’m not particularly good at, but am striving to be better at as I deeply desire to understand and learn. Listening is equally as difficult, but even more important in my opinion. Listening shuts me up and opens the opportunity to empathize with my neighbor. This is the kind listening I am talking of here—the kind of listening that builds cross-cultural (and dare I say counter cultural?) bridges and friendships.

3.  I think that in order to love my neighbors well I must understand both numbers one and two on this list.

• As I’ve been reflecting, I’m beginning to feel as if communication and active listening are tools to actively love my neighbors. Knowing I am limited in my experiences leads me to one who has experiences I don’t, and asking questions leads me to truly listen as they relay their experiences. Listening leads me to empathize with their experience, and empathy is a gateway to action and service.

•  Relating to the South Street Story: All of these sentences can be related back to the story. I didn’t understand what “being ashy” meant, so I asked. I listened as the girls explained why it was not something in my experience and how it was having it in their experience. I was able to empathize from then on out when the phrase “I’m ashy” was brought up from then on out, as I understood. Even though this is such a small example, it was an example of intercultural communication.    

Do I have the slightest idea if any of what is written above is “correct” or “true”? No. But it is what I’ve been reflecting on ever since the summer, and it is something I want to share as I’m working through it. Cross-cultural communication (communication with someone who isn’t of my exact cultural background…which is practically everyone to be honest) is something that is really new to me.   

This is one of the reasons as to why I am excited for Mission Year and the opportunity to live in an intercultural environment. I’m excited to spend an entire year in a city that I don’t know, in a neighborhood that I don’t know, in a house with people that I don’t know. I’m excited to spend a year building relationships with those around me— from my teammates to literal neighbors to those in the organization I will be volunteering with. I’m excited to spend a year asking questions in a desire to understand experiences that are different from my own—and sharing my own experiences to others. I’m excited to spend a year actively listening to those around me and allowing this empathy to lead to action through service. As it relates to this post, I’m excited to learn more about intercultural communication, and how love can be shown through these means.

                                                                        I’m excited for Mission Year.

To learn more about South Street Ministries: www.southstreetministries.org

To learn more about Mission Year: http://missionyear.org/program/