Welcome!
Some have encouraged me to start blogging perhaps because I always have lots to share and they just cannot tolerate the long and winding text messages, FB messages and the never ending e-mail notes I often share. But when it comes to Twitter, I am so restricted with my words and Lord knows, I am very challenged when I have to condense my thoughts and forced to read messages from loved ones that substitute "real" words such as; "u" for you or "n" for and or "u'all" or "u'will" or "fone" for telephone, "Thx n 2 u n . . . " "R u" for are you . . . What in the world! I spend most of my time trying to decipher these short statements! It would be a lot quicker if they would just spell out the words! It is equally bad in the workplace where words and departments are acronyms!
We all realize, or those of us who already know that we need to possess a command of the English/American language to hold onto a decent job, but our youth and some adults are slipping into the cultural norm of KISS! In other words, Keep it short silly!
Needless, I am sure you will agree, it can be challenging carrying on conversations with folks who are different than you. Besides, most people don't believe that I was very quiet as a child and young adult. And that I just discovered my voice only a few years ago not to mention, most women enjoy sharing -- verbally!
Hence, the nitty-gritty of my blog . . . Being compassionate through our differences.
Recently, while running errands, I decided to drive to the gasoline station to place fuel in my car. Of course, trying to save a few dollars. . . Opps! I meant to say, pennies. I decided to stop at a new nearby gas station. Seated behind the three inch thick Plexiglas barrier, were at least five people who appeared, sounded, and dressed differently than I do. As I uttered the words and handed the woman with a headdress on a ten and a five dollar bill, I requested fifteen dollars worth of gas . . . She took the bills and tossed the ten dollar bill back at me and told me it was not real and held onto the five dollars and asked me if I wanted to spend the money for gas.
Now, one can imagine what went through my mind and the next words that spilled forth from my mouth were . . . "What do you mean it’s not real!" Her lips did not move, but her eyes stated the thoughts that her mouth wanted to say. So, I took my money and proceeded to the next gas station. Once again, I would have to interface with people from another culture . . . But this time, before handing the attendant the money, I asked first, "is this ten dollar bill real?" The response . . . No! And much to my surprise, the individual tossed the money back at me; however, the three inch barrier stopped it from flying into my face.
Okay . . . Here's the thing, like most people, I don't pay much attention to bills which are transferred to me . . . I take them and spend the money. It seems that the people sitting behind the barriers we find in gasoline stations, corner liquor stores located in the neighborhoods; those order quickly and get out in a hurry carry-out food stops which are staffed with people of different cultures can detect counterfeit money better than natural born Americans. How curious . . .
Although I appreciate the fact the new immigrants have found ways to offer services to the general public in the United States, I have a problem with folks who have not discovered a way to assimilate completely and learn meaningful ways to offer excellent customer service. I felt assaulted and hurt after asking the attendant to help me understand how to determine that the bill was counterfeit. Sad to say, I was met with opposition by his rudeness! The owners of the station treated me as if I was the person responsible for producing the money – Right! I make money in my small printing business . . . Humph! If they only knew the state of my current circumstances.
Hint: Let’s face adversity in the gap . . . There is a bright lining to every adverse
situation . . . Follow the path!
As some are aware, I give God all of the accolades for the good and bad things that occur even for the people who enter my world. Popular culture have named these experiences, “acts of kindness” or "good deeds," or "paying it forward." A popular Primetime television show known as, "What Would you do?" demonstrates how helpful people should or could behave when they witness something gone awry. So, here's something for those of you who tire of my wordy chit chat -- KISS -- I name these actions simply being kind . . .
The Bible records thousands of stories introducing individuals who were thoughtful and took the time to pause and help someone. One familiar story found in Luke 10:25 - 37 where two people, including a priest and a Levite passed by a man lying along the road stripped and beaten by robbers. Suddenly, a Samaritan traveling along the road stopped, "he was moved with pity."
I felt the same way while the two gasoline attendants demonstrated uncaring and thoughtless consideration for my dilemma . . . And all of a sudden a voice belted through the tense environment -- Rodney stepped forward and stood up for me! It was tough though because my spirit is very sensitive to profanity, but Rodney spoke up and told the gentlemen that they were truly disrespecting me. Other than being called that bad word people are not supposed to use, many years ago some folks riding along the roadside in Virginia yelled that "N" word at me. Rodney, with more than five customers filling the gasoline space witness him call the attendant the "N word!" Oh my! Oh no! I said to myself, people, it's not that deep! Get a hold of yourselves!
With this new incident, I now have a better appreciation of how effective those three inch barriers are; holding back folks from jumping over the counter when tempers flare. I quickly called out to Rodney while walking in his direction, I asked if I would show me how to determine counterfeit bills . . . He calmed down and after distracting him, I turned and thanked him for stepping up for me. I gave him a big hug and commended this African American man for his bravery and for being respectful and shared with him that not too many people would do what he did for me. Needless to say, he had the last word as he departed the station . . . As he yelled out once again at the attendants.
So, my next step was to complete my task . . . Purchase gas, but I also shared with the owner that all of this hoopla could have been avoided if he or his colleague would have simply taken the time to help me . . . Believe it or not, his response to me was, "Why are you still talking! I don't need to hear what you have to say! It is over . . . If you are buying gas, then do it, you don't need to keep talking! If you don't want to buy here, then leave!"
So, I ponder . . . Will the business continue to thrive? I don't think so if the immigrants continue to treat people in this manner. Our nation is fast becoming a place where the majority of the people are of color. Our school systems are fervently working to create ways preparing youths to compete in a very competitive environments and hone them with the skill sets to fold into environments that will help citizens become successful. My question then becomes, why must we do battle with people who have not learned the important languages of our culture . . . Kindness, thoughtfulness.
Or should the question become, is this our language? Or perhaps, some are reacting from a position of fear and uncertainty? Our nation has become more diverse and our workplaces are increasingly becoming reliant and are anticipating a skilled labor force in the area of math and science. But while our [schools] are improving curriculums in these areas in our education’s institutions, it is equally important to help people develop and integrate excellent relational and communication skills.
Perhaps I will have the opportunity to reconnect with Rodney to thank him again. But, then again, through my life’s experiences people like Rodney come in our lives for a fleeting moment -- to deliver a message of hope and comfort. Meanwhile, after all of this chit chat, I guess you are wondering what I’ve done with the ten dollar bill . . . I gave it to one of my neighbors who took it to his banker who in turn recommended that I send it to the secret service to investigate. So I shall.
Finally, the question . . . Will I return to that gasoline station of which I have patronized for many years? Nah, I suppose the regular folks who go there will continue to assimilate to a culture within a vacuum of familiarity. After all, it’s all about money for them -- we pay, they gain. By the way . . . It's a BP gas station, just in case you were wondering. *smile*
By the way . . . The photo credits belong to National Geographic and Google photographers. And . . . The one on the top was taken by yours truly!
Happy '2013' New Year!
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