Ain’t
it like most people? I’m no different
We love
to talk on things we don’t know about
Ain’t
it like most people? I’m no different
We love
to talk on things we don’t know about
(“Ten
Thousand Words” by the Avett Brothers)
A couple of weeks ago my son and I
were standing in the National Museum of the American Indian in Washington, D.C.—one
of the fine museums of the Smithsonian Institute. We were standing before a picture as man
walked up to us, pointed at the image, and firmly proclaimed that the man in
the picture was Sitting Bull. I said, “I
beg your pardon.” The man said, “That is
Sitting Bull.”
Now typically I do not correct
strangers in public when they are wrong, but this guy was wrong . . . way wrong
. . . had the wrong guy . . . had the
wrong tribe . . . and, even the wrong generation. That was not a picture of Sitting Bull . . .
Sitting Bull was not a Crow Indian . . . Sitting Bull was a Hunkpapa Lakota. The picture was of Plenty Coups . . . a Crow
Indian. I told the guy that, but he
insisted that it was Sitting Bull. I
pointed to the name plate under the picture that read “Plenty Coups”. The man’s response? “All them Indians look alike.” Then he proceeded to tell my son a whole lot
of mythic tales of how the West was won . . . John Wayne sorts of tales that
were wrong. I just walked away because
the guy was talking a whole lot on things that he truly knew nothing about.
His ignorance reeked.
I sat with a group of people a while
back as they debated those dastardly Muslims with all of their hatred and jihad
attempting to rid the world of all the other religions . . . especially the
Christians. Listened as they rattled on
and on about how all Muslims were the same . . . just a bunch of terrorists out
for vengeful blood. They are all the
same, they said. But I asked, “How many
Muslims have you ever met? How many do
you actually know?” The silent stares
were answer enough . . . none. They were
talking a whole lot on things that they truly knew nothing about. I walked away.
Their ignorance reeked.
Such conversations are all around if
one has ears to hear. Ten thousand words
on things none of us know nothing about.
Words about other religions . . . about other races . . . about other cultures
. . . about other generations . . . about other nations. They all look alike . . . they all act alike.
They are all the same. By that it is
usually meant something that is not good.
If they are not like us do we really have anything good or nice to
say? Not usually . . . but, we still
have a lot to say. We all have opinions
. . . opinions based on myths, lies, and misinformation . . . myths, lies, and
misinformation because we really and honestly don’t know what we are talking
about.
Sadly I have learned that if a person
speaks out of his or her ignorance with enough force and conviction others will
believe . . . they will believe the myths, lies, and misinformation. All Muslims are alike . . . blood-thirsty
terrorists. All Indians are alike. All old people are alike. All women are alike. All black people are alike.
I went to a small college in central
Nebraska . . . a state with a minority population of less than three percent .
. . and that was reflected on campus.
There was practically no diversity as nearly all of the student body was
white. People of color were few and far
between. While at college I ran track
with a young black man from Washington, D.C.
One day as we were running he stated that he was dropping out and moving
home. When I asked why . . . he stated
that he could not take any more of the passive aggressive racism he was
experiencing. He said he was called a “nigger”
by some guy while walking back to his dorm room one evening. He confronted the individual . . . asked the
offender how many blacks lived in the community that he grew up in. The guy responded that there were no black
people in his community, and none even in the county he was from. “So, if there are no blacks from where you
are from,” asked the black man, “how can you hate someone you have never met or
encountered?” Because, replied the
offender, all blacks are alike.
His ignorance reeked.
Ignorance reeks. That is a fact . . . especially when
ignorance is pawned off as fact and truth.
Sadly, as the lyrics above state, “Ain’t
it like most people? (we) are no different.
We love to talk on things we don’t know about.” I have been known to razzle and dazzle
with bull poop a time or two . . . we all have.
But, it does not make it right.
Does not make it ethical. Does
not make it fair. Mostly it disrespects
others . . . puts them down . . . oppresses them . . . makes them “less than”
us.
I try really hard not to get roped
into discussions based on ignorance . . . try real hard not to be baited into
arguments based on myths, lies, and misinformation . . . try real hard to
razzled and dazzled by a whole lot of b.s.
I try real hard not to display my ignorance when I really don’t have a
clue about what people are talking about . . . instead I try to ask questions
so that I can learn and become knowledgeable about what others are talking
about.
I am trying real hard to base my
thoughts, ideas, statements, and opinions based on experience, research (on all
sides of an issue), and a whole lot of discernment and prayer. I am trying real hard to have more
conversations with people and things and situations where I am the one who is
the fish out of the water. I am trying
real hard to be one who is willing to walk in another’s shoes before I
pronounce judgment. I am trying real
hard to be open . . . authentic . . . and willing to listen to everyone’s
stories. I am trying real hard to
understand. I am trying real hard not to
be like everyone else . . . I do want to be different. I want to be who God wants me to be . . . I
want to be me . . . a person called to love God and others . . . to love others
even if they are different than me and I do not understand them.
That is the point. None of us is created the same. Why in the world would we ever think that we
are? There are so many colors in a
rainbow . . . why do we all have to be the same one? That was never God’s intention, so why is it
ours? Ignorance reeks . . . let us not
sit in our stink.
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