Both Sides of the Story

“Be sure, before we close our eyes, don’t walk away from here. We must hear both sides of the story.” – Phil Collins

I met a woman the other day who had a bubbly personality, a zest for life, and a mouth that talked nonstop about anything and everything under the sun. It was refreshing to encounter someone like that because it seems like most people I run into are, how shall I say it, restrained. It was good to see someone out there enjoying life and being loud and proud about it. We had a sparkling conversation (when I was able to get a word in edgewise), and I thought she would make an excellent friend. It seemed like our personalities meshed very well.

Then I found out she had just lost her mother two days before we met, and the joyous personality I had seen was shown to be her attempt to ignore her true feelings about it all. After the truth came out I saw everything she had told me in a completely different light, with the knowledge that hers was a sad soul in need of a friend. Notice how I thought we would make good friends before the revelation, and that didn’t change one iota after knowing what I did about her subterfuge. I could completely understand it, and it endeared her to me even more, that she wanted to appear strong. But it’s okay to be weak with friends. We’re there for each other. Continue reading “Both Sides of the Story”

Black Irish

Black? And four leaves? Wow.

“Mr. McManus, are you really Irish?” my student asks skeptically, knowing as she does that every Irish person she’s ever seen has been white, and also knowing that I’m not even remotely white.

“Of course I am,” I reply, with a twinkle in my eye.

“But how can you be Irish?” she asks, trying not to say what everyone else in the class is thinking.

“Haven’t you heard of Black Irish?” I say, and it ends the debate. Continue reading “Black Irish”

What I Saw: Interracial America and Fitting In

What do you see in this photo?

I walked down the sidewalk on my way to work yesterday and I found myself behind an interracial couple with their two children. The man was black, the woman white, and the kids a wonderful mix of the two. And they were happy. I could tell in the way they held each others’ hands and swung their arms back and forth, all four of them. They were also having a conversation, and I could feel the positive vibes radiating from them. It was a poignant moment.

Then I looked around and noticed a small group of other people heading to the same store, and they were also looking at the exact family that I was, but not in the same way. At first it was hard to ascertain the feeling behind the expressions on their faces, but then I recognized it as disgust. Continue reading “What I Saw: Interracial America and Fitting In”

Those Pardon Me’s

They’re staring at me Gaze intense Eyes steady Those holier than thou’s Those pardon me’s With their facial twitches Judging by proxy Brevity in their stance And I open my mouth to speak Words pouring like a faucet Watching for change Yet none is forthcoming And I wonder why I wonder who made them God … Continue reading Those Pardon Me’s