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Jan. 25th, 2003 11:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
taratemimaSome days I feel so helpless. My mom told that the pictures for my grandmother's birthday gift were needed tomorrow, meaning I had to make a trip for a one hour photo, maybe eat dinner and browse bookstores. I decided to go to Coolidge Corner, figuring of using up the disposable camera film for scenery in Brookline, Allston and Cambridge.
On the corner with the Citizen's Bank, an old man was holding a sign. I could get all of what was written, but two words came out loud and clear: "synagogue of Satan" and "Christ-killers." People who read Paul know which people the old man was referring to.
Keep in mind this is Brookline; whatever his problem was with 'Young Israel' and some girl named 'Emily,' you know he wasn't going for constructive dialogue. At first, I gave him a cold stare and walked into a bookstore.
And browsing through, I felt like a moral coward. Really, what the hell was I supposed to do? He was a crazy old man; any reaction would validate his martyr complex. Speaking as someone who attended Preacherfest, I know I'll only encourage him if I say anything.
On the other hand, there seems to be a lot of that behavior that I've kept in the back of my head like static. Some pamphlet left behind at Oak Grove insinutating that Jewish people whine about perscuation; reports of National Alliance tracts left behind in South Shore neighborhoods; and some newspaper left behind on a bus blaring about Israel and Christian charities. This is just the local stuff, let's not get into SFSU, Mona Baker and France (which incidentally has reports of anti-Arab violence, I suspect the violence against Arabs reinforces the radical Islamic folks; if this is how the West treats us, let's go for some authoritarianism, then).
The AU Danny/Tim story has that effect too, all that research, the memory of small resentments against new refugees in France, the small violent incidents, leading up to the arrest of the 11st arrondissement, Velodrome d'Hiver, Dracny, Aushwitz. Let's not get into what the other countries were doing. I shaked in anger over the thought. Lest anyone think I was weird, it was like my characters were lecturing about standing up, not letting history repeat itself. Say something!
So I did the only thing I could think of; I walked close enough to hear, but far enough so I won't invade his personal space, "You're telling the same old lies."
"They killed Christ . . ."
"It was the Romans!" Don't argue the Bible with an ex-Catholic schoolgirl; we may not read it as often, but we will talk back.
He droned on. Great, the martyr complex in full effect. I don't know if I did the right thing, don't know what that would be. People have the right to spew bullshit; I am just not sure how to answer them back.
Problem is, that is the only way free speech works.
As it turns out, my sister's photo developed but my brother's photo did not. I bought a book of etiquette for alt-sex folks.
Maybe I could write one. I'll call it, "Dealing with Bigots."
On the corner with the Citizen's Bank, an old man was holding a sign. I could get all of what was written, but two words came out loud and clear: "synagogue of Satan" and "Christ-killers." People who read Paul know which people the old man was referring to.
Keep in mind this is Brookline; whatever his problem was with 'Young Israel' and some girl named 'Emily,' you know he wasn't going for constructive dialogue. At first, I gave him a cold stare and walked into a bookstore.
And browsing through, I felt like a moral coward. Really, what the hell was I supposed to do? He was a crazy old man; any reaction would validate his martyr complex. Speaking as someone who attended Preacherfest, I know I'll only encourage him if I say anything.
On the other hand, there seems to be a lot of that behavior that I've kept in the back of my head like static. Some pamphlet left behind at Oak Grove insinutating that Jewish people whine about perscuation; reports of National Alliance tracts left behind in South Shore neighborhoods; and some newspaper left behind on a bus blaring about Israel and Christian charities. This is just the local stuff, let's not get into SFSU, Mona Baker and France (which incidentally has reports of anti-Arab violence, I suspect the violence against Arabs reinforces the radical Islamic folks; if this is how the West treats us, let's go for some authoritarianism, then).
The AU Danny/Tim story has that effect too, all that research, the memory of small resentments against new refugees in France, the small violent incidents, leading up to the arrest of the 11st arrondissement, Velodrome d'Hiver, Dracny, Aushwitz. Let's not get into what the other countries were doing. I shaked in anger over the thought. Lest anyone think I was weird, it was like my characters were lecturing about standing up, not letting history repeat itself. Say something!
So I did the only thing I could think of; I walked close enough to hear, but far enough so I won't invade his personal space, "You're telling the same old lies."
"They killed Christ . . ."
"It was the Romans!" Don't argue the Bible with an ex-Catholic schoolgirl; we may not read it as often, but we will talk back.
He droned on. Great, the martyr complex in full effect. I don't know if I did the right thing, don't know what that would be. People have the right to spew bullshit; I am just not sure how to answer them back.
Problem is, that is the only way free speech works.
As it turns out, my sister's photo developed but my brother's photo did not. I bought a book of etiquette for alt-sex folks.
Maybe I could write one. I'll call it, "Dealing with Bigots."
