Sunday, April 29, 2018

Tevas, Trump, and Typecasting

I was running extremely late for church today. When I arrived, I was grumpy and tired and walked in hoping to simply coast through the rest of the morning, but a few minutes into the service, a family entered. It was a man, woman, and their three young children.

When they walked in I thought, with some surprise, "They don't look British."

We all know typecasting is wrong and we all do it anyway - our brains jump to conclusions. That doesn't make us bad people. Confronting our biases and challenging ourselves each time we make assumptions is the most important thing. I've slowly learned not to live in guilt over my own failings and just to move on, keep working on it. We are all racist, biased, and prejudiced - it's when you don't recognize that in yourself (and society) to try and change it that it is dangerous. 

So why did I not think they looked British? The mom was wearing Teva sandals and a nose ring, the dad had a big beard and khaki shorts, and the children looked like sweet little sprites. I was impressed at how the kids immediately found the books and art supplies I had stowed at the back of the church and were quiet and contented for the ENTIRE service. 

After the service, I went downstairs and was getting a rejuvenating mug of hot water when someone told me that the family was American. "Aha!" I thought. "I knew it."

Turns out, the family is traveling the world for an entire year. They were already home-schooling their children when, after a family tragedy and some upheaval, they decided to rent out their home in San Francisco. Using a brokerage company that helps them figure out some of the logistical details and their own savvy, they have been on the road since October. They've visited Australia, New Zealand, China, Thailand, Sri Lanka, the Maldives, Singapore, Morocco, Zimbabwe, South Africa, France, and are now here in the United Kingdom. 

Sounds like your crunchy, creative, hippie, and typical, albeit pretty exciting, California family right? 

I thought so too. They are a lovely couple with equally lovely kids. The mom, Jessica, and I had a wonderful conversation. She was warm, friendly, and reminded me of why I miss talking to Americans on a daily basis - the energy! She was expressive, laughed, used her hands, and I found myself relaxing and sharing, mirroring, and laughing a lot too. It was refreshing.  

Our conversation started to get deeper. I confessed that I have started to consider myself a socialist here in the UK - almost a dirty word to many Americans - because I admire how the government attempts to provide comprehensive social care in an egalitarian way. 

She disagreed. Her take was different and she described a bad experience she'd had in a French hospital as an example - waiting for 8 hours, watching patients lie in gurneys along the wall out in the open, seeing muck on the hospital floor, only to be told she couldn't be given a test to determine if she had giardia because it was too expensive and that if symptoms persisted, she could come back in ten days and try again.

My experience thus far with British healthcare have been intense and variable, so I could understand her frustration. We weren't agreeing but we were having a healthy discussion. We talked about how social care in other countries is said to be better, but Jessica doesn't feel that it is. By and large, I do feel that it is better here in the UK. How she didn't feel that the high tax rate and the privileges it provides in certain European countries are worth the loss of personal choice and freedom, while I don't see it that way. She likes the option of personal choice but I personally would give some of that up if I was getting more care from the government. 

It was fascinating. Her husband, William, joined us and the kids flitted between us and ate biscuits. We went further than I've gone on social issues in a long time. It was enlightening to hear another perspective from Americans who are living abroad, especially ones who haven't become the frustrated socialist I feel I'm turning into but seemed to have a nuanced perspective that I admit I often lack.  

What was most interesting about our conversation? That's easy. 

William and Jessica voted for Donald Trump.

While our conversation about social issues was deep, it felt even more enriching once I'd unearthed this fact. Granted, this family is used to talking to liberals, and they admitted that most of their friends in California were progressives (their terminology), so they both told me that they understand how inflammatory politics are. 

Jessica also told me that the family had been featured in a New York Times article about traveling families. In print, the article was titled "The New Nomad: Have Wi-Fi, Will Travel" but online, in order to boost clicks, the article was titled "Some Said They'd Flee Trump's America. These People Actually Did." (Because the family's names are published in this article and used on their Instagram account/Youtube account, I'm choosing not to use initials or pseudonyms in this post.) The funny thing was, she said, they didn't flee. It was simply for personal reasons and has nothing to do with American politics. They voted for Trump, and they consider themselves conservatives. 

Back home, I am all sorts of frustrated and judgmental about the ways that a vote for Trump has negatively affected my country. Talking to people who disagree with me politically about social justice issues drives me so mad, I often shut down the listening part of my brain and commence smile-nod mode.

I'm still intensely angry about what Trump and other Republicans are doing. But something in me has shifted. 

I can't pin it on an exact moment. This year has slowly changed me in many ways. Yes, I complain more than ever about the state of American politics, but American people, they're something else. They're complex and nuanced, just like people everywhere. 

And just like people everywhere, the choices we make don't adhere to a check-sheet, as much as the media and social media would like to have it. Californian. Homeschools. Wears Tevas. Voted for Trump. These things don't go together on the surface, do they? 

This family denies all sorts of stereotypes. When they walked in, I had typecast them and then I typecast them again when we started talking. When they admitted to voting for Trump, I could have continued to stereotype them.  

In that heartbeat of a moment, after learning they had voted for Trump, I decided to listen to what the universe had been telling me all morning. Stop making assumptions. And instead of shutting down and negating their experiences because they were politically polar opposites from me, I made a choice. I let my mind stay open. The decision happened in a fragment of a moment and it wasn't entirely conscious.

The most surprising things happened because of that tiny internal pivot: I continued to relish our conversation. I continued to enjoy talking to Jessica and William. It educated me. We connected. 

Jessica and William provided fascinating, intelligent perspectives on their travels. We discussed the state of the American middle-class in California, money, home-schooling and world-schooling, church, religion and culture. Jessica and I even touched on the importance and global relevance of the Black Lives Matter movement.

We agreed that first world privilege is a thing and we feel different about it now that we have seen the other side of it - her family when they spent time in South Africa especially and for me when I spent time living in Mexico. We didn't agree on everything, but we listened to each other. 

Best of all, they were kind. They asked me questions about my own journey and made me feel comfortable. They engaged. When we said goodbye, we hugged.  

It wasn't what I expected. I let myself listen and it was so good.

I could argue that they aren't typical Trump voters. Jessica even said herself that they're surrounded in San Francisco by friends who are liberal to the core. They're homeschoolers and have lived abroad for the last seven months. 

So, no, perhaps they aren't typical Trump voters. Maybe, I thought, as I walked home, there aren't typical Trump voters. Jessica and William are complex, compassionate, and thoughtful. They care about their children and their country and the world around them. Just like you, just like me. Just like people everywhere, no matter who they voted for. 

That's the thing, though, isn't it? That's the real message behind the gut feeling I had this morning when, in the space of a single heartbeat, I decided not to close my mind. I'm so glad I heard that small God-voice telling me to keep engaging past the boundaries of politics. I'm so glad I listened. Thank goodness I did, because this wasn't a typical conversation and these aren't typical people.

None of us are.



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