This last weekend wasn't quite what was expected. So often, the best laid plans are subject to things that are far out of our control. Thus, when Sunday came around, the plan to attend the Brooklyn Tabernacle and hear a famous gospel singer was interrupted by the sounds of thunder and raindrops. But as is so often the case in the unexpected, I find myself learning.
The most important lesson from the weekend has been something that has been on my mind a great deal since moving to New York. The topic, multiculturalism. There is a lot of debate as to the precise definition of the term but in my own words I would venture to describe it as near: the presence of varying races, religions, beliefs, and values that make up a distinct culture. There is no way around it, it's a controversial topic. So I tread lightly.
New York is well known for being the landing point for a variety of immigrants for nearly 3 centuries now. For some groups, this means assimilation. Many white European immigrants left their cultural identities behind to become American. Others proudly re-established their cultures in neighborhoods. Some had no choice. Today, each shares a space with the others and seek to make their way daily often without knowledge of the other. And lack of knowledge,whether titled the unknown or ignorance, can create fear, prejudice, or simply a shyness to step out of a comfort zone. In New York, I struggle with this more than I would have expected.
I was asked to attend a Dominican Republic Festival this weekend and under the influence of what I have found to be the prevailing sentiment here so far, I became a victim of ignorance. Instead of embracing the opportunity and learning more about a culture that is largely represented in NYC and in my neighborhood in Brooklyn in particular, I was distracted by reports of crime and complaints of crowds. Passively aggressively, I opted out and asked for a more comfortable experience. This was a mistake.
When I walk around my neighborhood, I see the America of the future. There are too many cultures to count, living in a small area, and not enough effort to embrace it all. I am a curious person. My aunt has called me a "digger." I want to know everything there is to know about everyone around me, including their culture. When I went to Italy, I shied away from Americans and dove right in to meet Italians and gain an understanding of the culture in Florence. I forced myself to speak the language, meet people, and appreciate the differences. I ignored exaggerated claims of danger and I was better of for it. And I am not Italian.
When I worked in inner-city schools in Seattle, as a tutor and community organizer, I was usually the only white person walking around, meeting with parents and leaders in the community. Again, I was not dissuaded by fear, but sought to fully understand the culture I was in. But lately I have been bombarded with talk of crime, difference, and "allegiance." This is not me. I intend to go to graduate school to further research cultural differences and bring about effective solutions that embrace multiculturalism. I don't want to be a part of the irrational fear of isolation.
I thought a lot about this today and I decided I need to get involved in the community immediately to understand what's going on around me. I will not allow myself to be typecast into a role I am not comfortable in. And I was foolish to allow myself to be subjected to such and missed out on a truly NY opportunity. In this light, think about the activities I did experience with a friend that brought this to my attention, for which I am grateful.
On Friday night, I went to my favorite local bar, near my house which embraces diversity to the fullest extent. You will see many cultures together sharing the common values of humanity in one of the oldest traditions. Relaxing and talking. Think about this the next time you go onto an internet group that isolates you from these experiences and simply reinforces your point of view.
On Saturday we went up to Central Park and visited the Strawberry Fields Memorial where John Lennon was shot. Whatever your politics, a message of understanding and peace cannot be undervalued. Again, people from all walks of life, visit the memorial and pay tribute, not to a man, but to an idea. The park itself reinforces the idea, for it belongs to no single group, no identity, not even to a country, but to all who wish to visit. And by and large, everyone gets along. When asked, people gladly take pictures for you, give a smile, and sometimes pleasant conversation.
Later that evening, we had dinner at a Middle Eastern restaurant where again the prospect of differing cultures has only added to the experience of living somewhere open to the free exchange of ideas, activities and sometimes most importantly, food! How boring would life be if one had only to choose from a set menu, day in and day out. And again, people from all walks of life sit and share cultural experiences in a traditional form, owned by no single identity.
These experiences are learning lessons. If we don't make the effort to expose ourselves to things different than what we are used to, we find ourselves trapped in ignorance afraid of what could happen, when it almost never does. I have learned another lesson as well. I feel compelled, as a member of a population that often circulates the unsubstantiated fear, to better understand the problem and to being a countervailing force and encourager of simply trying new things.
My NY experience is supposed to be about self awareness, and I am reminded what one of my professor's, not so long ago told me, namely that I was a corrigible, rather than incorrigible, person. This is important because I am reminded that I need experiences to feel content. I am open to what tomorrow brings, because I don't know with certainty what it will hold, and if those experiences, even the mistakes, change my mind, I gladly accept and vow to be different the next chance I get.
If I want to make a difference, and I do, and if I want to enjoy my Brooklyn experience, I would be wise to limit my judgments and listen to those around me. This is what my experiences, out of my comfort zone, have impressed upon me. Sometimes it takes a gentle reminder to get back on track. And for me, I am back to getting the most out of this experience. The details are naturally yet to come. Stay tuned.
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