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Show Opinion Sun Advocate 8 Thursday, September 13, 1990 JtTjl Patriotism or bigotry By JOSEPH WALKER Excuse me. Do you mind if sit by you?" The afternoon bus was crowded, so the request wasnt surprising. But the tired sincerity of the mans voice and his Middle Eastern accent prompted me to look up from the news I magazine was reading. He was about my age, of average height and looked for all the world like a younger, thinner version of Saddam Hussein moustache and all. And, OK, Ill admit it flinched when saw him. Just a little. But enough for him to notice. Never mind," he muttered, his voice edged with what sounded like a frustrated mix of anger and resignation. "I think prefer to stand." Embarrasssed, quickly tried to recover. No please, sit down," stammered. You just...start!ed me a little, thats all. mean, was concentrating on this article..." The man glanced at the magazine in my hand. It was opened to a photograph of angry Iraqis waving their fists and burning American flags. He looked at me again, smiled weakly and sat. It is troubling, isnt it? he said, indicating the article was reading. So much hate in the world." Yeah frightening, replied. (OK, OK so witty repartee isnt my strong suit.) returned to my magazine, and we rode in silence for several minutes. At least, there was silence between us. But all around us was the usual swirl of commuter conversation, especially from the teenagers in the back of the bus. They grew louder and more boisterous until finally became aware of what was going on. Every joke and comment was laced with bitter clearly aimed at my seat-matobserved my neighbor out of the corner of my eye. His gaze was stoically focused on the back of the seat in front of him. His jaw was clenched. He was pretending not to hear and not doing a very good job of it. In retrospect, realize probably should have jumped to his defense. Racism is, after all, racism, even when it wears the tissue-thi- n disguise of nationalism. But to be honest, the only thing that occurred to me was to engage my companion in conversation. leaned toward him. "I guess you were right, said. He looked at me, puzzled. nodded in the direction of the young people behind us. Too much hatred in the world." He smiled. try not to pay attention," he said softly. But sometimes, it is hard. Then he added guess shouldnt take it personally. Im Iranian." Something tells me that detail wouldnt have mattered to the comics behind us. During the next few minutes, learned that my seat-mat- e was a college student pursuing a medical degree. His last educational stint in America had come at the height of the Iranian hostage crisis during the late 1 970s. (My timing stinks," ' 7 ; ' he said.) Still, he understood the passion he was hearing. His brother was killed during the holy war between Iran and Iraq, and an uncle was still being held captive somewhere in Baghdad. At least, the family hopes he is still being held I I I I I I I I I I I If I anti-lraqi-is- m e. you think this pretense of Bushs vacation looks silly, you should have been around to see Reagan put in a full day of work. I I I I Anything under the sun Of Kerr jars I I I good-naturedl- I y: I I captive. understand what these boys are feeling," he said. What dont understand is why they are here and not in Saudi Arabi-a- . I I In my country, if you feel so much hate you go where you can fight. Here, you just talk. Defensively, tried to explain that what was happening to him on the bus was somehow more civilized than what was happening in Kuwait. But quickly discovered that its awfully hard to make an ethical case for hatred, regardless of the form it takes. Besides, he wasn't really being critical. Whenever go home, keep telling my family and friends that there is much to admire in the American people," he told me as my bus stop approached. And when am here, tell my American friends that there is no reason to fear my people. He sighed. They laugh at me in America and at home. To me, its sad." Sad but not surprising. One of the first rules of international conflict is that difficulties between nations usually result in difficulties between people. Thats an understandable fact of life and death. But the mix of fear and patriotism can fool people into thinking that it isnt enough to vanquish our foes on the battlefield; we must also hate and humiliate them even when they are us" (remember the unfortunate World in conJapanese-American- s War II decision to centration camps?). Such thinking has nothing to do with patriotism, especially not in a nation that lifts its lamp" to those "huddled masses yearning to breathe free. Even with U.S. troops poised to do y battle in deserts, bigotry is destructive. It diminishes the spirit and cheapens the soul, and it shines a bright spotlight on differences between people at the very time we ought to be doing everything we can to find common ground. The fact is, commonality isnt really all that difficult to find. There is a great deal that we share things like the ability to love and be loved, the need for tenderness and acceptance, the yearning for home and family by virtue of simply being human. Those things are far more significant than divisive superficialities like race, nationality and political persuasion. Which is why we need to think about the current crisis in terms of our own attitudes. This isnt Just Us against Them. This is human against human, and that makes it personal-s- ort of like a family squabble. Were all spinning around on this planet together, and our mutual survival ultimately depends upon our ability to get along with each other. And so when hostilities break out we care, and not just because our national nose has been tweaked. We care because were I I I I I I Fall is my favorite time of year. When the air has that peculiar clearness and the temperature drops in the early morning hours, I get wanderlust a need to go somewhere. Perhaps it is the habit of going back to school as a child that has never been forgotten. Usually, a trip to the mountains looking for pine nuts or collecting colorful leaves satisfies my need to make tracks, and I am soon home again and content. This fall, I have had the most curious urge to bottle fruits and vegetables. Its a job Ive detested forever. But I find myself longing for the aroma of chili sauce or relish cooking on the stove. I can even smell the Kerr lids boiling in shallow water. Im missing the heat of the pressure cooker on a day that is already too hot. I can almost hear the snap of beans being prepared for the bottles. I can imagine the stickiness of cutting com off the cob and packing it for freezing and with it, the buzz of flies slowed by cooler fall temperatures. Even the memory of peach juice running down to my elbows creates a little nostalgia. Perhaps I should invest in some good psychotherapy. Usually, I only get this crazy when I family. Even in the back of the bus. Copyright LDS news features Deadline Tor submission of nows items is Thursday at 6 p.m. for the Tuesday edition and Tuesday at 6 p.m. for the Thursday edition. Information turned in after these times will be considered for the following edition. All information must be receivd in a timoly manner. Information about events more than two weeks old will not be considered. Contents of special written columns or letters published in this newspaper do not in any way reflect the position, attitude or support of the Sun Advocate. All decisions as to publication rest solely with the Sun Advocate editor. densed into a day, with a tangible product to hold up to the light and say, I did this while you were at work, honey. Now I say, This is what I did while I was at work today, kids. Usually, they are unimpressed. Fruits and vegetables have more impact than newsprint. They appeal to all the senses, especially the appetite. But then, time marches on. Canning was a different phase of my life. I think Ill i go home and make a batch of brownies and read the Velveteen Rabbit and sleep peacefully without a another thought of k pressure cookers, Kerr jars and canners. n BA note: County his Norm Clerk We on great-auher Prichard, deputies, and part. insisting doing sat in the shade and worked on peas and the judges of election are to be congratubeans, but moved to the house for com lated for their efficiency in tallying votes and getting the information to the public. and peaches. I dont suppose I miss the mess, the It is a big job that left most of the judges sticky floors, gooey knives and buckets of exhausted. Prichard promised that the totals would be in by 9:30, but I doubted it peelings and corncobs. But I miss the feeling of being part of a productive team. could be completed so soon. By 9:32, 1 had Actually, it was never as much fun in my taken the last totals from the screen. Not only was the process efficient, but own home alone. But there was always a the when the fruit of press room was set up with telephones feeling accomplishment or vegetables were in the bottles, the and computer screens that made reporting accurate updates a breeze. A pat on kitchen was cleaned and I was bone-tirethe back for jobs well done, folks. Few other satisfying jobs can be con cold-pac- post-electio- nt d. Shouldering aside blame for AIDS Like most people, Ive led an imperfect life, made mistakes and done things of which Im not proud. But I hadnt realized what a monster I am until I read the stem words ofAnnie Philbin. Ms. Philbin is a member of something called the Art Against AIDS Project. As such, she admires the controversial posters that have been placed on public transportation platforms in Chicago and other cities. e This is the kissshows a that man poster a a woman a man, kissing ing woman and a man kissing a woman, with the vague message: Kissing Doesnt Kill; Greed and Indifference Do. Before the posters went up, I expressed doubt as to their S value and said they appeared to be little more than an endorsement of gay relationships. I suggested that if the artists wanted to put up AIDS warnings, they might show some pregnant dope addicts sharing contaminated needles or gay men engaging in unsafe sex practices. public-servic- anti-AID- Policy on news stories have spent too much time being a liberated woman and begin longing for domesticity. Its the kind of longing that is usually cured by reading bedtime stories and baking cookies. This time, its almost a longing for another time and place. I remember coming home from school to a steamy kitchen filled with the sweet fragrance of spices and tomatoes cooking on the stove, with sterilized jars already filled and sealed setting on the cupboard. My first efforts at canning were shelling peas, then breaking beans. When Mother trusted me with a knife, I moved on to peeling peaches and cutting com. Canning was a family effort then, with my Mike royko te far-awa- and pressure cookers And I asked whose greed and indifference the artists were blaming for AIDS deaths? This infuriated some gay individuals and organizations, including Ms. Philbin of the Art Against AIDS Project, which is in New York. A Chicago media critic spoke to her and read her portions of my column. She angrily said: This guy clearly .doesnt know the first thing beyond being a white privileged male heterosexual in this country. lie is exactly, exactly the problem why AIDS is devastating this country. Hes just so uniformed its pathetic. I have to concede that she is right on a few points. I am white. But am I to blame? I was born that way, although old pictures indicate I was blotchy pink at the time. Actually, Im still sort of faded pink, but why quibble? And I am a male heterosexual, for which I dont apologize, although some gays derogatorily refer to those of the male heterosexual persuasion as breeders." Apparently they dont appreciate the fact that without breeders, we would all vanish and the planet would eventually be dominated by bugs and would be a very itchy, unsightly place. . But I have to differ on a couple of her allegations. She says that I am privileged." Im not sure what she means. The dictionary says: "A right, advantage, favor or . immunity granted to one; especially a right held by a certain individual, group or class and withheld from certain others or all others. I honestly cant think of any special rights, advantages, favors or immunities granted to me. My education came by way of the citys public schools, available to any mope. I- got into my line of work by grabbing whatever jobs were available, hustling and not watching the clock. ( I dont recall ever taking a nickel from any government program, although Ive kicked in at least my fair share for others. Anything I own, I've paid for. So I dont think I have - low-payi- anything that isnt currently available to anyone willing to break a sweat. But that of course, isnt the major crime of which I stand accused by Ms. Philbin. As she said: "He is exactly, exactly the problem why AIDS is devastating this country. He is just so uninformed that its pathetic. For one thing, AIDS is not devastating this country. Far more people have died, are dying and will die of cancer and heart disease. Theyjqst do so more quietly and dont blame society. f Nor can I think of any reason why I am exactly, exactly the problem" for the spread of AIDS. I dont engage in any behavior that spreads AIDS, and I dont encourage others to do so. But I do encourage others to be carefiil, as I did in the column that so upsets Ms. Philbin. As for being so uninformed that its pathetic," well yes, Im not an expert on AIDS. But the more Ive read about it, the more Ive realized that the alleged experts arent (Continued on Page 9) |