I love my job! Since 2011, when I left the corporate world to become a teacher of English as a Second Language, I have probably learned as much or perhaps more from my students as they have learned from me. In addition to learning the language, many immigrants to the United States are also anxious the learn about our culture and their questions are sometimes humorous, sometimes tragic, and sometimes leave me scratching my head and thinking, “Why do Americans do that?” For example, this video clip, which we used to use in the training sessions for volunteer tutors at the non-profit organization where I worked, always received a giggle from the class at the 2:13 point where a group of Sudanese refugees encounter Santa Claus for the first time, and one of them remarks, “I have never…I have never…what does this have to do with the birth of Jesus Christ?” Another time, in one of my group classes, a group of my students were trying to explain to a young woman, only recently arrived in the U.S., all about “Black Friday.” As her classmates excitedly chattered on about this “American holiday tradition,” I thought the poor woman’s head was going to explode.
This Christmas I had a similar experience with what is apparently a “tradition” among some subcultures that was completely foreign to me. I am African American and was raised in what most would consider to be a working-class family. My dad was a firefighter, and my mom was a homemaker and active in the church. We spoke standard English (no “Ebonics” ever…not even at home) and while they weren’t complete teetotalers, our parents rarely drank alcohol, and except for their high school reunions and the occasional birthday party, never drank to access. So, this Christmas, when my older sister invited a friend along to my brother’s house to share in our family holiday, my eyes were opened to a completely different kind of Christmas “cheer.”
My sister, who now lives on the West Coast, met her friend, who I’ll call “Trish,” when she lived in Detroit some years ago. “Trish” was my sister’s “loctician,” which for the uninitiated, is kind of like a beautician, but who specializes in creating dreadlocks upon the heads of a clientele who decide to embrace more natural hairstyles. We had heard about Trish for years. My sister often described Trish’s house, where her styling “salon” was located as being in the ghetto (which she always pronounced as “ghe, eh, eh to” – meaning deep down in the ‘hood!). We had also heard the story of how, when my sister was going through a very nasty divorce, was advised that Trish “knew a guy” with the qualifying statement that “he’s not a friend”, who could perform a “hit” on my soon-to-be ex-brother-in-law for the bargain basement price of $600. (Fortunately, big sis decided not to pursue that course of action.)
Trish was friendly and had a great sense of humor, but she drank…a lot. During the 5 days we were at my brother’s house Trish made no less than 5 liquor store runs, each time to buy a pint of Crowne Royal, which she drank mixed with an off-brand cola. Fortunately, Trish wasn’t a mean or obnoxious drunk, just somewhat forgetful. However, between her runs to the liquor store for Crowne Royal, discount cola, and several lottery tickets, we also learned that her license plates had expired 3 months previously and a taillight was out on her car. Despite all of this, Trish happily declared that Christmas with our family, was “the most fun she had had in a long time.”
From this experience, I began to suspect the underlying reason behind the discouragingly poor state of race relations in our country. Undoubtedly, there are some white Americans who believe that someone like Trish is typical among African Americans. There are also lots of people like me, fellow African Americans who know that this stereotype does not apply to all of us. We also attended my brother’s church while we were there, where a congregation of perhaps 150 well-dressed, spirit-filled African American worshippers celebrated the holiday with gospel-flavored Christmas carols, a puppet show, and a wonderful ceremony in which every student, from kindergarten through college was able to draw a random envelope that contained anywhere from $10 to $100.
I guess the bottom line is that, just as we all celebrate the holiday season in different ways, we also live our lives differently as well, and that it never hurts to embrace and welcome people into our circle, wherever they might currently be. Even though we all thought, “Why doesn’t Trish just buy a fifth of Crowne Royal, rather than wasting gas running to the liquor store constantly for pints” or “Why doesn’t she take the money that she spends on lottery tickets to renew her license plates and have her taillight fixed?”, no one lectured her or tried to explain the error of her ways. We just did what we always do – celebrated as a happy, middle-class African American family and welcomed a person, despite their differences, who otherwise would have been alone for Christmas. I wish everyone could learn that “shaming and blaming” will never change anything; but maybe being a friendly, welcoming example of a healthier alternative will.
quietlyradical 