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Hey, Let's All Point Fingers at the Outsider


by ETHAN. Wednesday, October 24, 2007

 

 
   

If you live in a place like Williamsburg, Brooklyn, or Jerusalem, Israel, or even Los Angeles, California, it's not all that unusual to see a man pass by wearing a yarmulke. Hell, it's not even that out of place to see a group of blackhat Orthodox Jews walking down the street, all jabbering away in Yiddish about a passage in Gemora that they all interpret differently. If you live in a place like that.

But if you live in San Francisco, or Berkeley, or Marin, or Oakland, such things are not commonplace. In fact, it's extremely rare to see even just a small, black, crocheted kipah on a man's head as he passes you by on Market Street.

So it's understandably a source of interest when you're on the Muni and an Orthodox Jew, complete with tzitzis (fringes) and yarmulke, steps on and sits besides you. It's probably even weirder if the Jew happens to be daavening at the moment.

We all know the feeling. We're in a public place of some kind, and someone with an odd appearance enters the stage. They could be a Muslim wearing a turban, or a heavily pierced man, or even just someone who is unfortunately obese. We were all taught from a young age that it's impolite to stare, but we can't help it. We feel drawn to the oddity. It sucks us in; we can't help but ogle, as if at some kind of creeping, crawling, insect. And it never once occurs to us how the person being stared at must feel.

This happens to me all the time, although I'm not always the starer. I'm actually about half the time the object of the staring.

But it no longer puts me off when I'm sitting on the subway reading a book, and I get that feeling you get when people are looking at you. It no longer surprises me. I can hardly expect people not to stare, after all, how many Orthodox Jews are there in the Bay Area?

There's the occasional muttered slur, the easily detectable discomfort of the person next to whom I'm sitting. But I've discovered from experience that it's better not to get involved.

But this past week, as I returned to my home after getting off the 43, I passed a Sikh family sitting on a bus stop. All seven heads turned 180 degrees in a very Looney Toones-esque fashion. As soon as I was a few yards away (maybe they thought I was out of earshot, or maybe they didn't really care), they started jabbering away in Hindi, in loud, excited voices.

I don't know what they were saying; I don't speak any Hindi. But this much was clear: They were definitely talking about the Jew in the tzitzis and yarmulke.

Normally I'd say they couldn't be accused of anything besides a lack of manners. But in this case, it was a family of Sikhs, all seven of whom wore religious garb. The men had turbans, the women had saris...the whole deal.

With this family, it seems all too likely that they've been subject to plenty of staring as well. So I thought, what right do you have to subject me to the discomfort that you likely experience just as much as I do? It's no longer an issue of where your manners have gone, I just want to know what's become of your pride.

I was ticked, and it didn't help that the stares continued all the way home, from every damned pedestrian I passed, including the little boy who opened his mouth and quickly got a hand in his face from his mother.

It's a crime we're all guilty of, every last one of us. But that doesn't make it any more excusable.

Looks can kill, and we are all murderers. We all talk about the need for people to stop placing such a big social emphasis on people's differences, and we are all hypocrites. The social emphasis will lift when we let go of it. And frankly, I do not see it being lifted. I don't care how accepting everyone says San Francisco is; as long as I can't sit on a bus without being stared at, it's just as bigoted as Atlanta. We in the Bay Area brag about how liberal we are; about how no one is rejected or turned away, about how everyone is given his or her fair chance, but it's all garbage in the end. When you take away Haight Street and the Castro, San Francisco ceases to be that little accepting hippie town, and becomes just another zealous American dump. We say that a black man is equal to a white man in the Bay Area, we say that there's not anti-Latino prejudice, we say there's no anti-Islam, and we say there's no antisemitism. But we're kidding ourselves, and the price of our voluntary blindness and unwillingness to open our eyes is the once great city that we live in.

 
 
 
   
   

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"Teach thy tongue to say 'I do not know,' and thou shalt progress." --- Maimonides

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