While some memories are pleasant, producing smiles and laughter when recollecting, sadly, there stand memories that have not only broken peace within the mind, but have destroyed the chance to see peace when given.
I was volunteering at a table where a referee asked a coach how to correctly pronounce a team name as it had been new to him (new to me, too). The coach inaffectionately told him. The referee, from what I could see, was just honestly trying to admit he thought it was pronounced another way, presuming to pronounce what he thought out loud. The coach responded back, “Aw, come on, man!”, suggesting irritation without even looking back at the referee, discontinuing any further conversation.
I used to think Tajin was pronounced “tah-zhin”. It wasn’t until I was at a selected District training where I happened to see someone across from my table take out the familiar bottle to sprinkle onto her food where I couldn’t help but let her know how I have loved that seasoning since one of my daughters had introduced it to me. I pronounced it right then as “tah-zhin”, but unsure, I quickly asked if I had pronounced the term right.
Without looking up to meet my eyes, she responded, “Tah-heen”. I innocently exclaimed, “Oh! Thank you for telling me. Now I know how to pronounce it correctly as I had somehow thought it to always be ‘tah-zhin’!” I might have caught her blink, but I for sure took note she never looked up to meet my eyes even after my attempt to expose my vulnerability even more.
As I sat quietly at the scoring table where I could now see the referee walking away from the man at the corner, my heart couldn’t help, but feel sympathy for the referee. This elderly man, clearly beyond retired age, admittingly confessed to not knowing how to pronounce the unique team name. The clearly offended coach evidently took the confession as an insult, leaving me to reflect from my vantage point of both sides.
The acting coach at the corner, a minority, surely has had run-ins with people who have meant to offend. I have been that child next to my Papa who have had to endure similar experiences, listening to people talk down to my parents to think nothing of it or finding humor in the cruel humility they just committed before a child.
Here’s the hard part of being a minority of skin- you can’t take it off. You go to sleep with it, wake-up with it, and no matter how many showers you take, as I’ve heard people say throughout my lifetime, darker is dirtier. (I’ve arrived to learn we humans interpret meaning to benefit our own claim and that one’s heart, mind, or spirit is a factor of one’s darkness or light. Our skin color is just the shade that covers our real truth.)
I felt the irritation of the minority acting coach. I knew that tired of people thinking I’m a joke voice. There was clear pride in the team name and while the referee, from my perspective, meant no means to offend, the difficult part about being a minority all your life is when you get maltreatment one after another, presumably, hearts, minds, bodies, and spirits have learned that one’s intent is most always to hurt or offend.
As long as there are those in this world who work to create trouble rather than peace, there shall exist walls to protect.
Since I was a certified teacher right out of college at the age of twenty-two, I was able to immediately dabble into the role as a substitute teacher once my first three were finally all in school. It seemed not so long ago when I felt a pale, elderly man from a distance behind a school front office entrance clearly veer toward my direction to ask me a question he adamantly had the urgency to ask.
The question? “Why are you here?”
Bemused, I paused in silence, processing at best as to what he meant by his question (and frankly, wondering if this much older man knew who I was as he approached me with so much demand in his voice that I answer his question). He proceeded to ask, “Why not choose to do something else?” Although still baffled, by this time, judging his facial expression and demeanor, I sensed a familiar attempt to condescend under the pretense of his questioning.
I managed to calmly respond, “Because I enjoy teaching and that is why I am certified.” I knew that many substitutes if not most substitutes were not certified to teach. By me politely adding such credential, I saw his shoulders slump down in a retreat position before walking back and away.
Still, to this day, as I come across such interesting questions, I find myself silently just forgiving the person before me for their lack of self-contentment. This is me being somewhat jumping to assumptions, but understand that I am to be human as everyone else. To justify one’s ill actions is for my own healing and letting go.
I have asked myself when do I darkly question other people’s motives to try what they may and I perfectly embrace that it is in my sheer moments of feeling territorially invaded or threatened where my guards are sadly up. When all is well, in peaceful tranquility, I see no reason to worry about what others are doing so as they aren’t in my way or impacting the livelihood of those I love.
Keeping with the strength of faith that all actions are with good intentions at first, as journeys expose us to other accounts, however, one gets drawn to believe that most others only mean to hurt or harm. We therefore take on the belief of greater probability this would be the case. Those most others become categorized to facial memory from childhood on up.
Eventually, we collect our own taxonomy of harmful versus harmless faces.
We perhaps learn about people similarly to our experiences with climates and temperatures. The flow of the sea, the movements of clouds about the sun, the air gently moving about- all are part of that anticipated expectation of natural occurrence. Anything different creates vulnerable danger for change.
Erratic waves create uncertainty of moment and treachery at sea. Gray clouds are an insult to the perfect blue skies forewarning rain. A calm breeze transitioning into gust winds brings fear of unwanted storms.
Waves come together to produce powerful tsunamis. Clouds gather to make scientific words as cumulonimbus to bring down heavy rain. Gust winds speed up to threateningly take down anything their way. On that end of the spectrum, such events exhibit power. And yet, calm seas, blue skies, and gentle breezes produce power in their own way- perceived to bring peace, sound mind, and harmony all around.
Why do we become threatened of the unwanted while seemingly accepting those portrayed as safe and innocuous?
The reality of life is that both intermix. Waves bring forth energy. Clouds complete the water cycle. Wind cools temperatures and produces renewable power.
A surfer waits for that perfect wave to ride. Still to this day, my favorite pastime is to walk in the rain in warm temperatures. And, just as long as the breeze doesn’t take you down, there is something to enjoy about the wind blowing in your face or watching trees and branches swaying as if dancing.
Is there absolute treachery in mixing both sea and waves, blue skies with clouds, or the breeze with storms? Is it not actually the fear of knowing the damages that could occur if an extreme were to happen in either direction? A dense sea versus a tsunami. Blue skies without a hint of rain to do without heavy clouds leading to floods. Angry winds opposing no breeze to cool hot temperatures.
Why have we become easily insulted or threatened by the polar opposite? Have one suppressed the other? Or, when balanced, do we starve from inactivity or motionless faults?
Are not all that to exist to create balance? Mosquitoes, for one, are noted to be the number one most threatening of animals. Do away with them and would not certain sea life cease to exist?
We can very much be threatened or annoyed by the existence of another due to experiences of having been bitten by a similar kind. Still, we must ask, who dare suffer most when withholding such fear?
Should I just never hike, swim, or breathe the open air? Or, should I simply embrace the possibility of inevitable dangers while making sure to not lose out on life and my possibilities?
Nothing is new under the sun. Does this suggest to engage with fear or faith? Which do you perceive?
And, once out there, are we to profess that if it quacks and looks like a duck, therefore, it is a duck? Even if so, are all ducks mallards? And even if so, do all mallards act and think the same?
Not all waves are meant to capsize a boat. Not all clouds are meant to break levees and create floods. Not all winds bring groundbreaking storms. Finally, not all that have wings are mosquitoes. And, not all mosquitoes who swarm, bite.
Our memories can indeed destroy chance. Still, can we not, do we not rebuild?
