Michiko's America

Occasionally, I get surprised by Americans’ verbal attacks.

The other day, for example, I was standing on a subway platform in Manhattan that was crowded with commuters.  The New York subway is a world beyond imagination for Japanese, who are used to clean subway platforms.  In New York, the platform is narrow, dark and smells bad.  There are drops coming down from the ceiling, supposedly from rain or melted snow (I don’t want to think beyond those possibilities).

The C and E trains both come to that one platform.  I have bad stigmatism in both eyes, but wasn’t wearing glasses that morning.  To confirm whether it was a C and E train, I poked my head out a bit.

“Back off!”

I looked up and saw a beautiful black lady who was glaring at me.  I was mesmerized for a moment by her gorgeous skin color and elaborate makeup.  How could she do all that on a busy morning?  I wasn’t quite sure why I got shouted at.

“Sorry!” I said by reflex.  A few seconds later, I realized that she must’ve thought I would push her aside and get on the train first.

A Chinese client who moved to New Jersey told me that she was looking for a gym where she could work out.  So I parked my car in the parking of a fitness club that is in a walking distance from the office where I was going to meet her.  My plan was to work with her in the office first, then walk together to the fitness club, take a quick tour there, and then drive to a restaurant for an early lunch.

So, early in the morning, I was walking in the parking lot toward the office building when a lady with a short bob hair said hello to me from a distance.  She was well dressed and seemed very bright.  She said,

“This parking is only for members.”

I debated whether to explain my plan or not, but in the end decided she wouldn’t be interested in my schedule.

“Thank you for letting me know.”  No sooner than I had finished my sentence, she suddenly became furious, waving her right arm and shouted.

“Your car will be towed by the police by the time you come back!”

The longer I live in the U.S., the more sudden attacks I encounter.  Is this just a coincidence?  While I was not accustomed to the life in the U.S., I may have been surrounded by kind Americans.  Or Americans’ attitudes toward others may have changed after the financial crisis?  In any case, I have often encountered Americans in recent years, who seemed to have imagined something about me and believed it true without the slightest doubt.  I can guarantee that there are many Japanese who do the same, except they don’t convert their anger to abusive language in a millisecond.

On such occasions, I feel tired from living in the U.S.

However, there are moments where I feel tired in Japan as well.

One of my good friends has a sister with disability.  When she is with her sister, she hears some mothers, who are total strangers, say to their children,

“If you are not a good child, you’ll catch something like that.”

They say it as if they intended it to be heard by the sisters.  “She got it because her ancestors did something wrong” is another thing they often have heard.  My friend told me,

“When I’m with her, I deeply understand my sister’s pain.  She had to endure the unkind words of others as she grew up.”

We fell silent.  I couldn’t even mutter “I don’t know what to say.”

I don’t understand why some Japanese say such hurtful things towards people who try to live their best life despite of their physical challenges.  They may be just mindlessly repeating the words that they heard from their parents?  But they must know what they are saying.  We can’t extend our kindness to people who look different?  Or do we become resentful for the uncomfortable feelings they cause in us, and blame them for it?  I haven’t figured this out yet.

One cold evening, I came down to a subway platform after a long day of work.  I saw a towering woman a couple of feet away, who looked like a quarterback carrying a big bag on either side of her shoulder. Her fighting spirit was obvious.  I desperately wanted to go past her, but it was so crowded that I couldn’t move more than a few inches.  Although she wore a heavy coat, her elbows looked very sharp and dangerous.   I was scared.  Then, a train came in.  I thought she would push forward towards the goal line. Unexpectedly, the quarterback stepped to her right.  Other people took a step back.  Then, I saw the Red Sea part and a wheel chair climb onto the train.

New Yorkers who don’t seem to care much about others are always kind to people with handicaps.  I don’t think it’s a cheap sympathy or pity or routine manners.  They seem to think that this is a common sense: of course we cheer on handicapped people who live their lives.

I don’t remember the title of the book, but it said that handicapped people have a special power that summons the beauty in the hearts of others.  It seems to me that many Americans know this truth instinctively.

Whenever I run into sudden verbal attacks in the U.S., I want to shout “who are these people?”  But then I remember that they are kind when it matters, and I just move on to the next thing.  People are complex and busy and can’t always show their kindness to everybody.  Besides, there are always people who are worse off than me.  I shouldn’t make a big deal out of minor incidents.

I hope kind Japanese will be kinder to those who are different.  Humans all experience pains and joys of life.  We all belong to this thing called life.  Life can be messy, but we can all feel connected, if for a fleeting moment, through a simple act of kindness. This is the biggest thing that I have learned from my fellow Americans.