Stereotypes & Prejudice

I have a confession to make: I don’t watch news. In fact, I would say I generally avoid the news. If you asked me what was going on in the world these days, I would be sorely uninformed. The only news I tend to encounter is what Facebook friends mention or share, and that which shows up in my News Feed.  That is how I came upon this article recently, posted by a girlfriend, about the massacre that took place a week or so ago at a mosque in New Zealand. Forty-nine people are dead.

And I was thus reminded why I don’t like the news. It’s nearly always negative, bad, and sad. It’s heartbreaking and infuriating. When I lived in the U.S. the only news show I watched with any regularity or intention was “CBS Sunday Morning.” I watched it because it had positive stories and touching, human interest features. I learned about people, places, and things that I wanted to know more about. It was uplifting, inspiring, and informative. It EXPANDED my views of the world, it opened me up. It did not close me down or narrow my lens. 

However, even for a news-averse person such as myself, it’s impossible to not hear about the world, and to have thoughts and feelings in reaction. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about our, as in human, need to label and stereotype people. I am not immune to this human characteristic, and I’d argue it’s a shortcoming. I’m sure I’ve said things that were unkind. I’m also sure that I’ve put people in boxes and lumped individuals with the masses. We are domesticated by our countries and the culture of our upbringing to think certain things, believe certain things, and take some things as fact without questioning them. Instead, I think we should pause and consider or question. I’m working hard these days to question everything, to pause and reflect on why I think what I think, or say what I say, and preferably before I say it. Am I expressing my own and individual thoughts and beliefs, or am I rolling through a default script that was given/taught to me? 

In my experiences growing up in the U.S. I believed that we, as Americans, struggled with racism because of the impacts and legacy of slavery. That we were the “bad” country to do such a thing. That it was/is our historical failure to overcome. I guess you could say I was a “national narcissist.” Not by choice or intention, but by the simple fact that I only knew MY country, and very little about the experiences of people living in other countries, cultures, or parts of the world. I was in a bubble.

This is THE reason why I think everyone needs to step outside their home nation and live abroad, in another country or culture, for at least a spell. It does not matter to me how you accomplish this. Maybe you serve in the military, or for a volunteer organization. Maybe you join the Peace Corps or you study abroad through a university. The how does not matter. What matters is that one gains a huge shift in perspective by living abroad. It will help you appreciate things about your country which you take for granted, but you will also see advantages in doing things differently, or perhaps you will even grow to value things differently. 

These recent contemplations have been heightened by my choice to live abroad these past four years. I lived in Mongolia (Asia) for three years. I married, and subsequently divorced, a Mongolian man. Before I departed the U.S. I listened to reactions and questions from family and friends about a variety of things. There were presumptions about how Mongolians (Asians) treat or respect women. I was asked if I had to walk behind my partner (Of course, NO!). I learned also that not many Americans knew much, if anything, about Mongolia beyond the historic personhood of Genghis Khan. Some had to ask WHERE Mongolia was in the world. Was it part of China? And yes, I had to listen to an occasional person make a racist comment regarding my then soon-to-be-husband being Asian. I’ll leave it to you to think of which stereotypical comments are generally made about this race and hold tight, I’ll circle back to this.

While working for Hewlett Packard in the early 2000s, I had a co-worker who traveled back and forth to Costa Rica to train employees there that worked for our company. She spent time with her counterparts and on returning to the U.S. shared with me that some of the Costa Ricans complained about the “Nicas” taking their jobs. Nicas meant Nicaraguans. This was my first time to hear real examples from other countries that had this attitude about people from another country coming into their land and “taking” jobs away from locals.

In America we’d been hearing (being told?) for years about people from Mexico and other hispanic nations coming across the border into the U.S. and “taking jobs.” And yet, it was also clear as indicated in studies and statistics that some Americans would turn down manual labor or other kinds of work. This naturally created a void or opening for others as the work needed to be done. I was learning that this wasn’t a uniquely American “problem,” but rather that it happened in other places around the world.  Keep hanging on….I’m building to make a point, I promise.

Was it naiveté or ignorance? I can’t tell you for sure. With expanded knowledge of the world, my understanding began to grow and texturize. I realized that the U.S. was not the only country that had issues around racism. It was a bigger issue.

Which leads me to my current location and life. I moved to Turkey about seven months ago. I have a few things to share about this move and reactions to it, as well as new observations made. Then I will attempt to connect all of these dots into one theme and parting question.

As I was hired and prepared to move to Turkey I was questioned by family members and friends. Was Turkey a good choice? Would I be safe there? It was a Muslim nation, you know, how would I be treated as a woman? As a non-Muslim? I had a few friends inquire about my mental health–was I making an informed choice? Had I really thought this through?

Yes, I had done my research. (You do know I’m a librarian, right? LOL) I’d talked to foreigners living and working in Turkey. I read some about the history of the nation, as well as about recent current events, some of which were alarming. But then I would ask you, from where in the world is there NOT a distressing event to be found? We can consider the recent Christchurch massacre as a prime example. In Mongolia, the distressing reality is the exponential level of air pollution being choked down by its citizens.

I can tell you that I feel safe and at ease in this country, and especially so in the city of Izmir. I feel free to be myself–to dress how I like, say what I think, spend my time how I wish. I walk seaside after dark. People are kind and helpful. If we are at a restaurant and struggling to read the menu, the waiter will find a Turk in the establishment that speaks some English and we are assisted. I don’t worry about pickpockets as I had to in Mongolia. Honestly, I would say I feel safer here than I did in the U.S. Americans have become overly isolated and wary of one another. I don’t feel that way here. Also, I want to kindly ask my stateside family and friends to not listen to only the news you are fed about other nations in the world. I think what most Americans know and understand about Turkey is severely limited, as well as shaded a certain color. It’s not the reality. 

This is my first time to live and travel in this region of the world. I’m in Asia, but I’m also on the Mediterranean, as well as close to the Middle East, Europe, and Africa. This is my first time to live within a Muslim culture. I am learning SO much it’s hard to know where to start when trying to share with others back home. But I shall try to start nonetheless.

I’ll start with an example from September. I had friends visiting from Mongolia–a married, mixed nationality couple–an American and a Mongolian. The three of us took a guided tour to Ephesus. Our guide for the day was a Turkish man who lived locally there in Selçuk. He was a great guide who obviously loved his nation, the site, and its history. However, we also heard him make negative comments about Arabs. He shared briefly about how Arab tourists had behaved on tours which he had guided. I am not here to dismiss his bad experiences. We all have them. But I caution us to NOT lump an entire nation, or in this case, multiple nations, into one box.

Now more months have passed and I can add that he was only the first of a number of Turks that I’ve heard share disparaging remarks about Arabs. Until my recent trip to the UAE I had no knowledge or interactions with people from Arab countries–of which there are 22. That’s a LOT of people to put in one “box,” don’t you think?

Now, I do understand that there are a lot of current events and conflicts in the Arab region of the world. It creates tension and dissension. I am only at the beginning of learning and educating myself about them. Understanding will take time. However, I did spend time in the desert while I was in the UAE with a variety of Arabs, men from different Arab nations. My experience was positive. My friend and I were treated with respect and kindness. The men were considerate and thoughtful. We felt safe and at ease, AND we had a wonderful time enjoying their food and fun pastime of dune bashing (see previous post for more).

So here I am, living life as a white, American woman. This is the lot I was cast in life. I know it comes with privilege by the nature of my passport. And what do I know of this world and racism? I have never been on the receiving end of racism. I have good friends that are black. I say black because this is how they self-identify. When I was young I dated white, black, and hispanic. I was married to and made life with, for a period of time, a Mongolian man. I spent time with Arabs dune bashing in the desert of the UAE. In all of these situations, I felt free to be me, and I had fun with and experienced others to be GOOD people, KIND people.

I’m tired of categorizing people. I’m tired of assumptions being made about a race, a culture, a religion, a nationality. I’m tired of hearing that men from this or that country make bad boyfriends or lovers. I’m tired of hearing people declare that they don’t want to date another person from their own nationality. I’m tired of humanity imposing the grievances of the past on people of the here and now. I’m tired of news outlets that generalize people and places; that seem to prefer negative and sensational stories, missing out on all that is good and beautiful in this world. 

I do not care if a person is Arab or European. If they are Muslim, or Christian, or an Atheist. I do not care if they are straight or gay or poly. I do not care where your political affiliations lie. 

What I do care about is: are you kind, thoughtful, reflective? Do you question your assumptions? Do you pause before you speak? Do you correct yourself when you mis-speak? I know I try to. 🙂 It doesn’t mean I always succeed, but then perfection is about the striving for, not the attainment of.

I want to take each person as an individual. To base my opinion on him or her, and around my experiences and interaction with him/her. No matter our place in the world or history, it is my belief that we each want the same things in life–to be happy, to enjoy our family and friends, to have meaningful work, to provide for those we love, to experience joy, and to connect with others. Why do we work so hard to find the differences? And so quickly dismiss or overlook the similarities?

So while I “enjoy” this year, and the rest of my days moving forward, I am also endeavoring to allow each and every person I meet to be an individual that I am learning to know. Because I choose this approach to life I have discovered/found: that my Mongolian husband was a generous and excellent lover; that a black woman can be my sister; that Turkish people are kind and welcoming, protective and helpful; that a Mongolian woman can be a soul sister; that a man does not need to be taller than me to capture my heart; that there is wisdom in youth, and splendor in the elderly. 

People can surprise you; people will disappoint you. I may fit a stereotype, but I promise you I will also buck some of your expectations. Take me as I am, not as you predict or think I ought to be. I’ll do the same for you. And if I don’t, please call me out on it!

At this point I would like to invite anyone reading to share their thoughts on these topics. Where have you been surprised?