Week 8

I grew up in a large city but went to small public schools.  I remember that my grandfather was horribly prejudice.  I remember him complaining about the indians, hispanics, and the african americans that lived near and around his small northern town.  I remember having discussions with my parents about things that he would say.  I never could understand why he hated these people.  My parents grew up in that area and I wondered how I was able to have a better understanding of people of other cultures, skin color, and ethnicity.  I remember being fearful of what my grandfather would say at my high school graduation party.  I had & still have friends from high school that were Native American, African American and Hispanic.  But to me they were just Lara, Deanna, Mike, Jeff, Ron, Ed, and Vonnie.  I remember being scared that my grandfather would affect my friendship with these people, by saying something hurtful to one of them.    I knew that the things he said did not relate to my friends.  I never understood why he said the hurtful things about these people.  Did he think that he was entitled to do this because he was white?  I just never understood it.  My mom always said that there were good people in all cultures, and there were bad people in all cultures.  She always told me that I was not to judge a person on the color of their skin or on their religion or anything that may be different than myself.  She said that I should judge people on their character.

I have tried to live by what she has told me.  I have also tried to raise my sons the same way.  After 9/11 I have to admit I harbored strong feelings toward people from Arab countries and Islamic people.  Then I had the chance to meet up with an old college friend, who reminded me of my mom's wisdom.  Tarique Al-Iesa came to the US when his parents divorced.  His mom chose to live here while his father remained in Kuwait.  Tarique and I became friends.  He was a basketball player.  We talked and learned a lot from each other about our differences and similarities.  We were at a basketball game the night the US bombed Kuwait on January 17, 1991.  He shared with me his fears, and his hopes that night as we both ended up glued to the tv.  Tarique was scared for his father who owned a large construction company in Kuwait.  Tarique's extended family were prominent citizens of the country.  He fear for their safety. We spent a lot of time talking over the course of the next few years.  After he graduated from college, he got a job working in Saudi Arabia as physical education teacher at an international school.  He also coaches basketball.  I have lost touch with him.  But he and his family reminded me that there are good and bad people and that I could not hate one group for the someone's actions.  I try hard to remember my mom's wisdom.  I believe it is that wisdom and the experiences of the people I have met that will guide me as I teach children in our multicultural schools.