oh crap ....
So it turns out I'm prejudiced. I have spent the last two years trying to examine my own biases and unrealized priveledges as a middle-class, white, educated female who grew up in a small, conservative town, and I try so hard to be open-minded and to really think about the ways in which I might be oppressive toward others. I think about it, I've read books and articles about it, I talk about it (ad naseaum to poor Jim... sorry about that) and I thought myself pretty forward thinking. And then yesterday I went into a Patisserie and lost all composure.
So we had just attended an African Festival, learned about Egyptian drumming, took a belly-dancing lesson, and were walking back to the tube station to catch a train home. We decided to stop in a little shop for some tea/coffee and so I found a lovely little patisserie with lovely cakes, tarts, and drinks. My first clue should have been the disdainful look given to me by both of the French waitresses. But unflappable, I smiled grandly, said I would return with my friends and bounded out to find them. We all re-entered together, had a bit of a chat about whether we should sit upstairs or down, finally decided and then sat down for a nice cup of tea. Again, sharp looks, frowning faces, and quick detached movements from the waitresses both. "I'll disarm them with my charm and gracious attitude" I thought naively and didn't let their seemingly bad moods affect me.
So then it came time to pay. We all tromped downstairs (because the two waitresses seemed never to be coming 'round again) and asked for our bill. One waitress snarled at us that we would have to pay together, and so I (having only a £10 note and no change) asked for her to change my bill. She said, "NO, I do not have any change at all. Too bad." I said I only had the 10 pound note so she needed to figure it out since it was a place of business and all. We interchanged back and forth for a couple of minutes (with her offering to give me 10 pounds worth of change in pence -- which are pennies) and it was everything I could do not to scream rude things at her. My friends rushed to my aid and we worked it out, but I walked out feeling very flustered and very much that French people are bloody rude. "NO wonder the English don't like the French -- they are rude!"
So later, when I cooled off a bit I began to see how prejudice forms. A poor interchange with someone can become a way of essentializing a whole race/ethnicity/culture from one interaction. Of course all French people aren't rude, just like all Americans aren't stupid. I wish I could have kept my cool, not let the lady push my buttons. I saw that I was being prejudiced against her because I expected her to fit my expectations of service and social interaction. I saw that I could let it all boil inside me so that future interactions with people from France could be affected negatively. And for a moment, I had a tiny, microscopic understanding of what it feels like to be stereotyped and feel the effects of prejudice against my own ethnic background as well. It was not a pleasant experience. But I hopefully am a bit wiser for it.
And I still like french fries (as opposed to "freedom fries")...
So we had just attended an African Festival, learned about Egyptian drumming, took a belly-dancing lesson, and were walking back to the tube station to catch a train home. We decided to stop in a little shop for some tea/coffee and so I found a lovely little patisserie with lovely cakes, tarts, and drinks. My first clue should have been the disdainful look given to me by both of the French waitresses. But unflappable, I smiled grandly, said I would return with my friends and bounded out to find them. We all re-entered together, had a bit of a chat about whether we should sit upstairs or down, finally decided and then sat down for a nice cup of tea. Again, sharp looks, frowning faces, and quick detached movements from the waitresses both. "I'll disarm them with my charm and gracious attitude" I thought naively and didn't let their seemingly bad moods affect me.
So then it came time to pay. We all tromped downstairs (because the two waitresses seemed never to be coming 'round again) and asked for our bill. One waitress snarled at us that we would have to pay together, and so I (having only a £10 note and no change) asked for her to change my bill. She said, "NO, I do not have any change at all. Too bad." I said I only had the 10 pound note so she needed to figure it out since it was a place of business and all. We interchanged back and forth for a couple of minutes (with her offering to give me 10 pounds worth of change in pence -- which are pennies) and it was everything I could do not to scream rude things at her. My friends rushed to my aid and we worked it out, but I walked out feeling very flustered and very much that French people are bloody rude. "NO wonder the English don't like the French -- they are rude!"
So later, when I cooled off a bit I began to see how prejudice forms. A poor interchange with someone can become a way of essentializing a whole race/ethnicity/culture from one interaction. Of course all French people aren't rude, just like all Americans aren't stupid. I wish I could have kept my cool, not let the lady push my buttons. I saw that I was being prejudiced against her because I expected her to fit my expectations of service and social interaction. I saw that I could let it all boil inside me so that future interactions with people from France could be affected negatively. And for a moment, I had a tiny, microscopic understanding of what it feels like to be stereotyped and feel the effects of prejudice against my own ethnic background as well. It was not a pleasant experience. But I hopefully am a bit wiser for it.
And I still like french fries (as opposed to "freedom fries")...
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