QBLOG #8-Perceptions

QBLOG #8-PERCEPTIONS

I’ve been slowly expanding my boundaries here at Camp Liberty. There is a man made lake that I’ve begun to walk around after work with some colleagues. Last week I took a half day off and decided to walk the lake and see what there was to see during the day. It was amazingly different, beautiful. Along one side you can see one of Sadaam’s palaces. His hunting lodge I am told. There are several other “support” structures near this compound. Many of the structures have been bombed and are in various stages of repair and disrepair. While I was walking, several water trucks passed me and the men inside would give me a big smile and wave. I would wave back and get a big smile on my face. I was enjoying my walk and taking some pictures along the way. This is also the first time since I’ve been here that I have been in civilian clothes, basically sweat pants a long sleeve t-shirt, a fleece jacket and tennis shoes. I was coming toward the end of my walk when an incredible smell wafted past my nose. The DFAC. Not just any DFAC. This was the Pegasus DFAC and of the three that we have on Liberty, this, by far, has the best food. I made a decision to go there and have an early dinner. The smile on my face soon disappeared.

Since I was in civilian clothes, I was searched before entering. This happens to everyone, but something felt different. I move on to enter the door where everyone must wash their hands. As I am entering, the workers greet me with a smile and a nod of their head. Not unusual, as I usually greet them and they respond in kind. When I finally entered the DFAC and stood in line, I became very aware that something felt really wrong. I could not put my finger on it, but it was one of the most uncomfortable feelings I have ever felt. I looked around. There were some soldiers looking my way, but nothing looked different. But it felt really different. It was very uncomfortable. It wasn’t until I arrived at the serving line that I understood. The server’s were greeting me like they knew me. That is when it hit me. I’m one of THEM. I’m not AMERICAN. Instead, I am one of THEM. Out of my uniform, I look Middle Eastern. I suddenly understood what prejudice felt like. Maybe it was disdain, because I have felt prejudice before, and this was much stronger. It is not a look, not an action, but a very strong message just the same, “we don’t like you, we don’t trust you…”. No one told me this. They did not have to. I heard the message loud and clear. I was so uncomfortable that I quickly ate and left. Normally I would stay behind and write, but this would not happen today.

The first thought I had was, “you can’t judge a book by it’s cover”, but we do it all the time. It was just done to me. I wondered if I had sent this kind of message to these workers from other countries or those from Iraq, or anyone for that matter. I hoped not. It is amazing how wrong perception’s can be. It amazes me even more because we rarely take the opportunity to take action to verify our perceptions. And I thought about the war. I thought about the poor. I thought about so many things that my head began to spin.

I met this Danish man at the gym I belonged in Dallas a couple of summers ago. He was an lawyer who specialized in international law and was on business in the United States and in Dallas completing some of that business. He lived in Paris, but was raised in Denmark. This was at the beginning of the Iraq war and our discussion immediately turned to that. He understood things from a very unique perspective, because though he was raised and lived in Europe, he had lived in the US and continued to be exposed to our culture. The man was maybe 35, but quite wise. “You in America want to do the right thing, and you believe that war is the right thing. Yet, you have not experienced a war on your soil since the Civil War. You do not have the memory of war that we in Europe have, and so war is a viable option in the US. My grandmother lived through WWII. She was in Paris when the German tanks came rumbling in. She witnessed children and women and men being shot and crumbled under the tracks of tanks and other machines of war. She knew what war was and remembers it still. People lost their homes, their sons and daughters, fathers and mothers, and often times witnessed their deaths. America has only seen this on television. It appears like a game. There is no consequence other than maybe your gas prices will go up. But other than those you send to war, America has not suffered war.” The conversation lasted well over an hour and we were both prunes by the time we got out of the hot tub. It was those words above that remained in my memory. “America has not suffered war”. Perception: To become aware of directly through any of the senses...; How we perceive things can certainly influence how we make our decisions.

In the very early 90’s I invited my mother to Dallas for a visit. My friend Jim Frederick had also invited his mother to visit. We wanted our mom’s to meet and get to know us and our world a little bit better. Jim and I had “come out” to our parents and felt that our mother's were more open to bonding than were our father's. We planned the visit around a Turtle Creek Chorale concert. The Turtle Creek Chorale is a gay men’s chorale group, to which Jim belonged. Approximately 80% of the performances were filled with gay men and women. During intermission, we went to the lobby for a beverage. We gathered with friends of ours. Part of the conversation was about who was going to church on Sunday and meeting for brunch afterward. Everyone was dressed in evening attire, ties, coats etc. Suddenly, my mom said she had to excuse herself. She looked a bit pale and almost sick. I walked with her to a more open but private space. I asked what was wrong. At first she said that it was just a bit hot. After a few minutes she revealed that she was having a difficult time with what she was experiencing. These great guys, good looking, well dressed, talking about going to church…well, that was not how she was brought up to think about gay people. To her, gay people were like street wino's. Drunk, dirty, individuals living on the streets and wanting sex with children. I was her son and I wasn’t like that. Now she saw that these guys were not like that. They were also someone’s son. Perception: To achieve understanding of; What can we do to change our perceptions?

This past December, before leaving for Iraq, I was able to spend Christmas with my family in Santa Fe, NM. Christmas day we spent at my sister Margaret’s home. My sister-in-law Dina and her two girls, my nieces, began a conversation about the elections and the different perceptions people had regarding the two candidates and some of their issues and mandates. We were initially on opposite sides of issues. Dina started to relate our conversation to a TV series called 'Wife Swap'. She stated that during the first show she made decisions based on the initial interview people had, on who was the “better” wife. At the end of the show, she realized that no one was better, they just had different approaches. She said after our political conversation she now saw things in a different light, as did I. Perception: Insight, intuition, or knowledge gained by perceiving; Will we listen long enough to understand a view that is not our own?

I was living in San Antonio, TX when I met Tom Stehlik at a retreat for those questioning a calling to religious life. Tom and I became quick friends and spent that year together in discernment for what our calling might be. I was invited to spend an Easter with Tom and his family. I would meet a priest at this gathering that was a friend of Tom’s family. This priest happened to be a bit overweight. In a later conversation with Tom, he said that a lot of people would look down on this priest and either give looks of disgust or would make jokes about his weight. Tom said, “Some people look at him and see his physical problem but do not see the wonderful spirit he has. You know, some problems are just more visible than others.” Each of us has our own challenges, be they physical, mental or emotional. None of us is exempt. Some aches are just more visible than others. Perception: becoming aware of something via the senses. Will you look beyond the physical and see the spirit of someone’s heart?

I wrote this poem outside of the Dallas Contemporary Art Museum. The sky was filled with these wonderful clouds. Grey and white with sun shining through them as they raced across the sky. They were beautiful. They inspired this poem.

Sky’s of Blue
Sky’s of grey,
White and Dark clouds are heading my way.

Some look soft,
And subtle…
And friendly…

Other’s are Mean!
And Vicious!
And Scary!

Each one touching..
An emotion within me…
Learned long ago, yet unaware of it’s power in my memory.

Dark means bad…
And mean…
And frightening!

Making me see FEAR
In something…
Though it is really nothing!

White is good…
And greater…
And Kinder.

Making me see good..
In my mind..
But in reality, I am only blind.

They are what they are,
This white and darkness…
Each neither good nor bad…only providing the comfort that my memory had.

Sky of Blue!
Sky of Grey!
Goodness and Badness are heading my way!

I now must choose
What each truly means…
And put behind the prejudice that my memory continues to bring.

Learn from my experience…
Of now and ahead,
And change my attitude of my learning back when…

Sky’s of Blue,
Sky’s of Grey…
All of these different clouds are teaching me new ways!


25 June 04, Dallas Contemporary
Choose Love, not Fear!

Blessings and Peace…. Robert