Still Relevant!
After I had migrated to this Country, I attached myself to the wrong people because of the ethnic makeup of my family. The people I trusted looked like members of the family I was born into. Yet, my family treated me well.
I can recall an instant when my parents sent me to the bakery. When I got there, I had to stand in a line. In front of me was a Caucasian man. I quietly took my place in line behind him. As was the custom in my Country to bid a person the time of the day, I did not greet him. Perhaps, he was waiting for me to do so, but I remained quiet. After he had realized that I was not going to acknowledge him, He turned around and said to me.
“I am your father’s uncle.” He was my paternal grand uncle.
“Yes.” I said. “I know who you are.” He was a little surprised. He turned back around, and made no other effort to talk with me. Had it been my sister, she would have, but I am who I am, and that is the most I have ever said to him in life.
On the other hand, there was another Caucasian man that I would consistently greet. When I was school aged my maternal grandmother told me, he was related to my maternal grandfather. My mother’s father died when she was a toddler, and my grandmother had a different spouse by the time, I came along. Save for that one man, I had no connection with my grandfather’s family. With that, I made it a point to be respectful to the one person; I knew was a relative of his. Apart from greeting him by his last name, I did not have a conversation with him either. I am not sure if he knew who I was, but at the time, that was not pertinent to me. The fact that he would always respond to me was sufficient.
Personally, I love all people regardless of ethnic back ground. Life in this country has taught me that ethnicity in this country is still largely of importance. If it were not so, I would not have had to chose, but I do. I know that my grandfather would have loved me, but I am his child, so he might not have been given a choice. It is not so with my other relatives. None has to acknowledge me and to be honest, after one verbalized her dismay concerning my skin color; I keep all at arms length.
Today, my family is not based on biology. This, in fact, makes perfect sense because I am not truly my mother’s daughter. As some of my children are people that I selected to be my children, my extended family and supporters are people who chooses to love me.
Perhaps, I should have been more personable, but the fault did not always lie with me. As obstinate as I was with my uncle, others have been indifferent with me. For the purpose of my calling, this was a necessary experience. The lesson of racial indifference and inequality, I needed to learn, but the rejection of the one who sent me was certainly something I did not need. The result for me will be that I will no longer identify myself as being a servant of God or being Hebrew. Perhaps that was the reason, I was deserted. God knew I would not have made these choices had he and any of these chose to help me. I, however, will not from this point forward as I have said turn my face towards any of these ever again. I have said my final goodbyes many times. I have explained myself, and now I have written it here, even before these things occur, so that in the future if anyone questions my choice, it may be understood.
For more of Ruth's poetry purchase, Fantasy/Controversy or My Reality.
I can recall an instant when my parents sent me to the bakery. When I got there, I had to stand in a line. In front of me was a Caucasian man. I quietly took my place in line behind him. As was the custom in my Country to bid a person the time of the day, I did not greet him. Perhaps, he was waiting for me to do so, but I remained quiet. After he had realized that I was not going to acknowledge him, He turned around and said to me.
“I am your father’s uncle.” He was my paternal grand uncle.
“Yes.” I said. “I know who you are.” He was a little surprised. He turned back around, and made no other effort to talk with me. Had it been my sister, she would have, but I am who I am, and that is the most I have ever said to him in life.
On the other hand, there was another Caucasian man that I would consistently greet. When I was school aged my maternal grandmother told me, he was related to my maternal grandfather. My mother’s father died when she was a toddler, and my grandmother had a different spouse by the time, I came along. Save for that one man, I had no connection with my grandfather’s family. With that, I made it a point to be respectful to the one person; I knew was a relative of his. Apart from greeting him by his last name, I did not have a conversation with him either. I am not sure if he knew who I was, but at the time, that was not pertinent to me. The fact that he would always respond to me was sufficient.
Personally, I love all people regardless of ethnic back ground. Life in this country has taught me that ethnicity in this country is still largely of importance. If it were not so, I would not have had to chose, but I do. I know that my grandfather would have loved me, but I am his child, so he might not have been given a choice. It is not so with my other relatives. None has to acknowledge me and to be honest, after one verbalized her dismay concerning my skin color; I keep all at arms length.
Today, my family is not based on biology. This, in fact, makes perfect sense because I am not truly my mother’s daughter. As some of my children are people that I selected to be my children, my extended family and supporters are people who chooses to love me.
Perhaps, I should have been more personable, but the fault did not always lie with me. As obstinate as I was with my uncle, others have been indifferent with me. For the purpose of my calling, this was a necessary experience. The lesson of racial indifference and inequality, I needed to learn, but the rejection of the one who sent me was certainly something I did not need. The result for me will be that I will no longer identify myself as being a servant of God or being Hebrew. Perhaps that was the reason, I was deserted. God knew I would not have made these choices had he and any of these chose to help me. I, however, will not from this point forward as I have said turn my face towards any of these ever again. I have said my final goodbyes many times. I have explained myself, and now I have written it here, even before these things occur, so that in the future if anyone questions my choice, it may be understood.
For more of Ruth's poetry purchase, Fantasy/Controversy or My Reality.
Comments
Post a Comment