The problem was my nose, not her smell.

More serious musing for today. 

 I was sitting on a bus in southwest Rome with a black nametag on my chest that identified me as a servant of Christ. I was to speak as He would speak, think as He would think, act as He would act. I was involved in teaching everyone around me about their potential. I bore testimony motivated by love for the people among whom I lived. Yet I sat across from a young gypsy girl and found that distain and criticism were both in my head and in my heart. I wrinkled my nose at her smell. I eyed the sleeping baby in her arms and wondered if it was actually hers or if she was a stereotypical "baby stealer" I had heard about. Pulling my bag closer to me, I watched her hands, worried she’d try to steal from me. I didn’t know her name, I didn’t know her background, but I knew she was a gypsy. I identified myself in one way and yet I chose someone else’s identity for them. In my subjective mind, I decided what was truth and what was error. In my mind, I was living up to the identity connected with that missionary badge. In my mind, she was dishonest. In hindsight, I realize that both assessments were false.

I’ve mentally grappled with this memory and many like it for months. Towards the end of my time in Italy, I finally was able to see my mistake. After arriving home, I began to research the Romani  (gypsies) and found out how wrong I truly was. I was guilty of continuing the prejudices against them. I believed what I was told and then told others. And I in my shame, I wanted to put things right.  For my senior capstone project this last semester, I wrote a research paper that ended up being nearly forty pages on the situation of the gypsies in Italy.   I received many negative responses while writing this paper from good people I respect and served with in Italy. They disagree with my defensive stance and I am surprised at how many cleave to these stereotypes, telling me the Romani are born thieves and are taught dishonesty, despite how society asks them to conform. During my presentation and defense of my paper in my capstone class, many got pretty heated as they talked about negative experiences they had had while living or traveling in Europe and how the mentality against the gypsies had provocation and reason. One guy in my class said that this was too touchy a subject to be able to discuss. My response was that  just because it is a touchy subject doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be touched. 

My professor stood up at the close of my presentation and said, "I want you all to stop and really think what has happened today. We feel justified in anger towards a group of people. We feel like we have cause to separate ourselves from them. This mentality has plagued mankind in the past and it led to immense sadness. You think it's in the past and you think we've overcome this, but the sadness of the past will repeat itself unless we're careful. I'm talking about anger, about racism, about wars, about the holocaust. Today we've learned how closely we need to watch ourselves." In my study of identity as related to ethics, values, society, rhetoric, individuals, and myself, I have learned how to better open my eyes and heart. I have become a little more sympathetic and I have been able to look back at the girl sitting on the bus in Rome and realize that it was not her smell that was the problem, it was my nose.

"I think [this dream of mine] summarizes the meaning of my entire life. I am the head of an airport. […] A big plane has touched down and in my capacity of airport boss I go to passport control. All passengers from the plane are there before me, waiting in line with their passports. I suddenly behold a strange figure: an ancient Chinese, dressed in rags yet regal, emitting a horrible stink. He is waiting to enter.

He stands in confrontation, uttering not a word. He doesn't even raise his eyes, totally absorbed in himself. I cast a look at the plate on my desk, certifying that I am the one in charge. But I don't know what to do. I am afraid to let him enter, as he is so different from everybody and I don't understand him. I am terribly afraid that if I let him in, he will upset my conventional life. I start to apologise then, lying and laying bare my own weakness.

I am lying as children lie. I can't bring myself to accept responsibility. I say: 'You see I am not authorized. Actually, it isn't I who is the boss. I've got to ask the others.' And my head hangs with shame. I then add: 'Wait a moment, I'll be back.'

I go away to make a decision that I am never to make. I go on vacillating and all the time I wonder whether he'll be there still when I return. But the worst is that I am not sure whether I am more afraid to find him there, or find him gone. Thirty years since, I am still pondering this dream. I fully understand that something had been wrong with my nose and not with his smell; yet I can not bring myself to go back and let him enter, nor learn whether he is there still, waiting."

-Federico Fellini from I, Fellini

Your thoughts?

By the way, if you'd be interested in reading a shortened draft of my paper, click here.