On the day Maya Angelou died

On the day that Maya Angelou died, hate coloured with meanness was evident in the life of a friend of mine.  She came back from Wal-Mart, two blocks away from our office.  We were to have lunch together and she was late.  In my blissfully unaware state, I imagined that she got caught up walking the aisles. It has happened to me more than a few times and I was not going to give it another thought.  If only that were the case.  If only she did not have to experience what she did on a day like today; the day that Maya Angelo passed away.

It began with a scuffle for a parking spot.  She drove into one that was available without a thought.  A man was not as nonchalant about this and he made sure his opinions were known to her and anyone with ears to hear.  He yelled to her, “Why did you park in that spot you F#a%^***ing N***ger?”  Perhaps to you and me, that was a bit excessive.  It was bad, but she kept going, choosing to ignore him and finish up her chore at hand. 

Run into the store, grab the one item, run to the cashier.  MacDonald’s beckoned, better get some nuggets. Run to the car.  Her car was attacked.  She said she walked around her entire car, thinking maybe a bird, a flock of them, did a number two?  But upon closer examination it was not what she hoped but what she had initially feared.  .  Streams of saliva made its way down the driver’s side window and door.  As Maya Angelou says, “When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.”  This man showed himself to be a small minded person, with the vocabulary of someone lacking social graces and culture. He had left his mark in a more tangible way.  He was gone like the coward he was – fighting a woman he felt was beneath him and then running away to hide.

 

He was like a member from the KKK, who did their evil with covered faces to hide their identity. Cowards.  She was shaking and held back the tears that were threatening to override her control.  By nature, she is strong, but this had gotten to her and I could see it despite her valiant attempt to appear unruffled.  How is it that on this 28^th day of May, in the year 2014 we are still faced with this kind of hate?  How is it that blacks and whites are still so far apart?  He was a reminder of what we had forgotten – racism is real and very much alive in the hearts of men today.  In North America, we hold our noses up and criticise the East and their intolerance.  Yet, we are hypocrites and fools if we think that same hate is not here in our back yards, lurking in the parking lots of Wal-Marts, and smiling at us from across the counters of fast food restaurants and fancy banks and stores.

God help us we have not come far enough. God help us we are still colour blinded.  God help us we are a mess and our secret is showing through the gaping cracks in our masks.  We sit, work, eat and live amongst people that hate us because of our colour, gender, economic class or whatever else they deem we don’t measure up to.  God help us not to hate each other, but love as you have commanded even when it is not reciprocated.  As Maya Angelou said “Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leap fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.”