Ranting and Raving

*Disclaimer: this post will not be politically correct, in any way. You've been warned.*

There are many things in life that tick me off and make me mad. For example, people leaving each other in the lurch when they are depending on each other. For another example... people who reinforce racial stereotypes.

Let me delve further into that example. Last night as I waited at the Chinatown bus stop, there was a crowd of young black people. Now, I have absolutely nothing against black people, or Asian people, or any other kind of people. I do, however, have something against ragged, rowdy hoods who don't seem to care that they're being more obnoxious than should be humanly possible, which is exactly what these people were doing. They were acting foolish and immature, rapping loudly using foul language, and screaming and hollering at each other in vulgar tongues, calling each other n***a and other foul names.

I must ask why, when so many people (even this many years after desegregation and equality) still hold racial prejudices, do young people continue to act like those hateful stereotypes? 

It does occur to me as I type this that perhaps I'm being the stereotypical white girl from a small town, who knows nothing, is offended by much, and things she knows more than she actually does. Perhaps I'm being overly judgmental, and of so, then I apologize to whoever this might offend. That is not my intent, but I also don't feel like walking on eggshells right now. I know many strong, beautiful, sensible, wonderful people of many different races. I understand cultural differences. I get that. What I don't get are those that deliberately perpetrate the foul images in so many people's minds. 

Ugh. To continue, off of this topic. As frustrated as I was with the obnoxious kids last night, when I got on the bus I couldn't help grinning. There were several very sweet people on the bus that, although they obviously did not make me forget the hoodlums from the stop, did remind me that people are people and race is not the issue but rather upbringing, situation, and personality. 

The first of this good trio was a pair of little girls. Their dad was clearly doing all he could to keep track of them, and they obviously loved him very much. They were 2 and 4 years old, and the whole time they were on the bus, they kept singing verse after verse (in the style of the munchkin from the Little Rascals' "I got a pickle"), "I love peaches, I love peaches. I love bananas, I love bananas. I love grapes, I love grapes." At point they stopped and I looked down and said, "Do you like apples?" The little girl's eyes got really wide as if she was upset she forgot the apples, and then she started singing. We were serenaded by chorus after chorus of "I love apples" the rest of the time they were on the bus.

They got off, and there was finally room for me to sit down. I sat down next to an elderly black woman who was crocheting a bag. We got to talking a little bit, and she was telling me about how she was headed to UDC for a class, and how I should never stop learning and searching for what made me happy. I commented on he crocheting at one point, saying, "I wish I could crochet like that. I only know how to do one stitch, and I'm sure I don't do it right." She laughed and pulled another ball of yarn out of her bag, handed it to me with her crochet hook, and asked me to show her. I did, and she (along with several other ladies) were admiring the stitches. "Hey, she's got a double!" one of them exclaimed. Now, a double crochet is not hard, but for some reason they were so excited that I had a double crochet stitch.

In between all of this, there was a precious little Hispanic boy and his dad. I don't if the little was just really, really shy or if he didn't speak much English (and I speak no Spanish whatsoever... I can say "Hola, como estas?" but my vocabulary stops there), but he was was very nervous and not wanting to talk at first. I kept just smiling and waving at him though, and by the end of the 30-minute trip, he was bringing me little slips of paper and grinning up at me from ear to ear.

So in the course of less than an hour, I found myself feeling extremely discouraged by humanity, and by the end of it, found myself more hopeful than before I started out.

I just want to say, to charge to all the young people out there, to continue being hope for the world. The world needs it. The hoodlums have always been there and always will be, in every shape, size, and color. But between education, compassion, charity, and a little hope, we might actually be able to make a dent in the mess of this world.