Classism at its finest…

My oldest son has had a hard journey. In his 12 years before coming to live with us, he experienced abuse, neglect and a lot of pain. He is rough around the edges, as is his girlfriend; both sporting a myriad of tattoos. A couple of months ago, he was at his job as a cook in a local restaurant and slipped and fell, hurting his lower back. He was in a lot of pain. He didn’t want to go to the emergency room as he does not have insurance but by the next morning, he could not walk. My husband works at the hospital as a respiratory therapist so he was there when my son and his girlfriend arrived. She had her 9-month-old baby with her as well. My husband watched the looks between the nurses as she let the baby crawl on the dirty floor. He noticed the serious delay in them giving him anything more than a Tylenol for the pain. My son and his girlfriend were assumed to be drug seekers. They fit the profile apparently and were treated differently because of it. It was difficult to watch, especially for my husband who suddenly felt torn between two worlds. Even with his presence and our last name, it took some time for them to treat him as they would someone else with a back injury; someone without tattoos or someone with insurance.  

Our studies this week of microaggression have been enlightening to say the least. I never had a frame of reference for what I had been experiencing my whole life. Insensitive comments, often made in jest, and biased treatment of those outside of the dominant culture. My awareness is now heightened. I hope that 6 months outside of this course and discussion, I will not have fallen back to a place of complacency.

Perspectives On Diversity & Culture

Culture:

Dad- The mannerisms of a particular group of people that makes them distinctive in their setting; the way a group of people live.

Mom- The habits and behaviors of living in a certain group of people; living in the same habitat and having the same problems and goals.

Husband- Rich with history of the area or region they live

Diversity:

Dad- The difference between two people or two groups of people; how they are distinguished as different.

                                                   

Mom- Different types of people may live in the same culture but all are different, with different backgrounds.

Husband- A melting pot; many groups represented in an area.

The mannerisms, behavior and history are all included in culture as we have studied it. Living within a habitat; having similar problems and goals, has also been discussed related to individual people groups. Diversity was very much viewed as differences. Each were quite general as they described the differences to be between groups, backgrounds and within certain areas.

Cultural omissions include more specifically the rules, perspectives and beliefs that govern our behavior. It encompasses the traditions, religious practices and costumes of a particular group. Diversity omissions include more specifically, the ways we are different including race, gender, age, ability, language, class, ethnicity, religion, geographic location and sexual orientation.

I found it interesting how difficult each person thought it was to come up with a concise definition. In addition, I was struck by generalized definitions I received. Two of the three commented on how it was difficult and prior to this class, I too would have struggled to find words for these abstract concepts. Their understanding of the concepts remains at a very basic level, exactly where my own started from. This examination confirms that we as Americans can drift through this life with a very narrow and limited view of the world around us.

My Family Culture...

Upon National catastrophe, removed from our homeland to an unknown country…The first item I would choose to take to represent my family culture is my father’s Bible. Any Bible would be valuable but his is highlighted and his thoughts written throughout the margins. The Christian legacy he and my mom fostered is extremely valuable to me and continues to influence how we raise our children. The second item would be a photo album with a spattered mix of black and whites from generations passed, my own and my husband’s parents as well as our own childhood and that of each of our children. The third item is a memory book that I received several years ago and includes historical information on both my own and my husband’s family to our own children with space to add more information as the family grows. This book is special as it has sections of comments requested of grandparents before they passed such as “describe your wedding day” or “what was it like on the day ___ was born” Between this book and the photo album, stories could be kept alive as the family sat around and shared.

If I were told upon arrival that I could only keep one of the three, I would feel angry and devastated having just left everything we knew. When rational thought returned, I would choose the Bible. I believe that with God, we can get through anything. We would have each other, and we believe we will see our loved ones again in Heaven. We could still keep the memories alive through storytelling, just as they did in the early days.

I did not realize how deeply engrained my faith is as a major cultural influence. If all else were stripped away, it would remain. No outside force can steal it from me. Though this exercise is disturbing to consider, there is comfort in knowing that my family rests in a legacy of faith that would sustain us.