When I walk through Costco, a bit oblivious, scanning the aisles for my favorite products, it is hard not to notice when a woman of Muslim faith, dressed in traditional garb, walks down my aisle. In trying to look nonchalant and not appear to be staring, assessing the costuming, I don’t let our eyes meet as I would any other stranger who happens to like Kirkland brands. There’s that struggle again—trying not to be prejudicial, but in trying to be neutral, I end up being aloof. In trying not to condemn, I alienate. It’s not like I think she is a terrorist, but she is different and in some ways other, unknowable.
What struck me most in Reading Lolita in Tehran is symbolized by Nafisi’s description of the girls’ casting off their robes to reveal the vibrance, not only of their colorful clothing but of personality. It is so easy to keep real people who have needs and feelings and dreams just like me at a distance because they fall into a category that is labeled “Misunderstood: Do Not Open Till Safe.” Coverings, be they literal clothes or attitudes, piercings or ink, group associations or age categories, prevent us from seeing someone who is worth knowing.
Because I disagree with the political state and its leadership and see them as a threat to not only Israel, but to the peace and safety of the world, it is easy to see its people as part of a great political monolith. Each ranting, gun toting televised male and each trilling chador-robed woman is just a cog in an enormous machine that works and functions in a unified and sinister cause. The book took the clothes off my perceptions and humanized the people.
I think we all knew, because of the many reported escape attempts, that many people wanted to escape East Berlin and communist domination. But it never crossed my mind that people in Iran were not all flaming ideologues. It never actively crossed my mind that there were oppressed Iranians who in their iron chrysalis longed to be free—not free of their faith, but free of the constraints that would make them those cogs of the state and not liberated and unique individuals with valuable thoughts and aspirations. Even when I heard about youth demonstrations, it was easy to classify their movements as different from other freedom yearnings. An us / them. In following Nafisi’s biographical journey with her girls, watching them change and grow strong, and in peering into Nafisi’s own thoughts and struggles, I have seen and identified with the part in us all that wants to appreciate beauty, learn, grow, explore live, and love. I want to see beyond those things that would inhibit relationship and caring.
There are many things that cover us and prevent us from communing with one another. Because those coverings conjure up images and expectations that make a person other, we are prevented in getting to know likeminded souls who, like us, have treasures to share.
People can act weird in general when faced with a culture different from their own.
ReplyDeleteI remember about two years ago I was sitting at a table for the Math, Science, and Engineering Club on campus (we have since disbanded). My job was to represent the club and get other Antelope Valley College students to join. Usually when I have to sit outside somewhere for a long time I will wear a pashmina to keep the sun off me. There was this older man who looked like he was interested in joining the club. He had stopped by the table, gave me this disapproving look, and then asked me if I was Muslim. After I said no, he walked away. That was an odd experience. Wearing the pashmina has brought me good attention as well. During my friend’s AVC fall 2009 graduation, I was pulled into a picture with twenty plus Lebanese Arabs. It felt kind of nice being accepted into a culture different from my own. Somehow….it felt very right. Haha
I think preconceived notions stop us from understanding each other. In many cases this is normal since society is becoming more and more globalized. We are experiencing things that we may view as taboo. Being able to experience something right in front of oneself is different than watching a movie about it or reading about it. It is our curiosity that makes us stare.