The Missing Link

7.23.12

I volunteer to devote time to an underprivileged child through the organization Big Brothers and Sisters. The main goal is to positively impact children in your area by spending time with them. We refer to the child as a “little”, and my child’s name is Diamond.

My “little” and I went to the public pool this afternoon. Once there, we settled in and had a wonderful time. I was trying to teach her how to swim a majority of the time. Once she got hungry we went into the locker room area to get my money. Like any other locker room there were lots of people. Women getting their family ready, trying to rinse off their little children, teenagers gossiping, the whole works. The public lockers require 50 cents to rent. As I was getting out my wallet, an older white woman seemed to be looking for something. Once I shut my locker and turned around, she had grabbed the arm of my little and raised her voice to say “Did you take it? My two quarters, where is it?” Diamond, who recently turned eight, looked confused. She just stared at the women. I kindly told the older woman “Sorry, we just walked in. We don’t have you money.” She glared at me, which I didn’t understand. I apologized again, took Diamond by the hand and left.

Diamond didn’t seem really phased by it. But it was nagging at me. There were many different women and children within the locker room itself. And when I walked out, I noticed the older woman’s possessions were across the room on another bench away from where we had been standing. So why did she have to accuse my eight year old “little” and then take out the rest of her resentment on me. I may be jumping to conclusions, but Diamond is of African descent and I myself am biracial. So out of all the other white people in the locker room, she came to the other side of the room and accused us.  This thought just kept lingering as I watched her exit the locker room.

I then began watching all the people at the public pool. A black family walked past to enter the slide area, and a hispanic family followed behind. I noticed how these two families didn’t know each other previously but began talking to one another. Noting how their children played together in the water, and that the young adults can get under their skin. They shook hands and bid adieu in hopes to meet again. I watched how two mothers gave disapproving looks to a very young (most likely between ages 18-21) mother playing with her child and taking pictures to remember the event at the pool. I loved to watch two particular people sitting adjacent to me. There was a bigger black woman and a very thin white female who I would describe as a tom boy. They laughed so carefree all the time. I noted that an unhealthy looking woman carrying a pack of cigarettes stood by the slides to get pictures of her children. And the people previously around that area quickly packed up their things and moved to a different table. Once Diamond and I finished eating and went back towards the pool area, I saw the accusing older woman again. She was with, what I assumed to be, her daughter and granddaughter. I waved friendly and she turned around and whispered to her daughter. Again I may be paranoid, but it actually did hurt. In the pool, I made note of how all the people interacted. The women that constantly kept track of when to turn on the tanning cycle. The rowdy boys playing football. The toddlers trying to swim, etc. All the people, the black and Hispanic family, and that one older woman.

Some people are easier at adjusting to others. They seem to be more open or friendlier. Others tend to shut out, and become extremely judgmental to strangers. I’m not saying I myself have never done both cases. It’s just that there is something missing in so many people. A loss connection that we all need. Just imagined if you took the love that you have for your family, and your very close mates, and thought of each person like that. The person in front of you in line, the slow car making you annoyed, the noisy children at the doctor’s office,  that coworker you can’t come to terms with, or the girl talking too loudly on her phone. All of those people, all of them, are more than people. Their life is eternal. A soul that should be treated as a cherished treasure. I’ve never understood discrimination or prejudices because of the way I was brought up, and I know that home life effects the way the mind perceives, but I myself don’t get them. But I have learned to think of others a different way. How special each person. How individual and unique they are. Made for some purpose in life. That each person has a special talent, ones that can be subtle, or obvious. I may never get to know what they are, but I’m sure they have them. Each person’s soul is a beautiful intricate life force that is going to live on forever. And sharing a smile with them, and showing a tender heart, and most importantly displaying love for them, how brilliant would that be? Just think of it.