Her voice hisses across the dividers of clothing racks.
“Do you know what they said on the news last night?”
My head jerks up, away from the discounted sweaters, and I look around trying to find the disembodied voice. Is she talking to me?
“No, what?” someone answers and I pinpoint a trio of women gathered at the end of the next row, looking through the long-sleeved shirts.
“They said it costs 56 thousand dollars for each immigrant. Can you believe it? I thought Mike was going to go through the TV! He had to turn it off. Couldn’t listen to it. And you know they get everything paid for. EVERYTHING!”
My hands still amidst the cotton and wool. I look over again at the speaker. She’s a benign looking gray-haired elderly woman. She continues her rant.
“And the law says they can’t work for six months. So they just sit on their as#!s.”
Her listeners nod enthusiastically and another one eagerly jumps into the conversation.
“I know! They get everything. And I get NO help. Nothing. I have to pay for my rent, my car payment, everything. And they just sit on their as#!s and get everything paid for.”
“Tell her what they do here, Betty,” the other one says, encouraging her friend.
“Ok, you know what they do here?” She pauses strategically, then continues, clearly relishing her contribution, “They just cut in line. Cut right in front of everybody. Like they think they’re the only ones who matter.”
The initial speaker interrupts, “Maybe 300 years ago this was the ‘Land of Opportunity’ but there was no one here then. Now there’s no room.”
They continue their talk for quite some time. There is a lot of repetition. A lot of talk about sitting on as#!s. I listen to them rant, sickened by the hateful intensity of their voices, by their utter lack of empathy…and by my own by-standing. What should I say? What can I say? I run through and reject all sorts of possibilities. I doubt they’d be open to my mentioning their own inconsistencies (If immigrants legally can’t work for six months, what are they supposed to be doing? Also, there actually were people here 300 years ago. etc.) or questioning them further about their knowledge, beliefs. I don’t have facts and statistics readily available to spout. No antidote available for their Fox-fueled venom.
Hearing this vitriol in my own community shocks me. But really, I should have known it was there. We have major problems all over our country. Major divisions. People are struggling in so many ways, and clearly there are problems with the immigration system. I try to remember to have empathy for these women. They are frightened or struggling, looking to make sense of things. Still, I back away from them: the hatred and the “othering” that they espouse feels toxic, dark and deeply disturbing.
I take my leave from the store soon afterward, unable to rummage through used clothes and books any longer. Ashamed that I don’t say something. Anything.
The irony that I was shopping in a store named “Goodwill” was not lost on me.
Nix the comfort zone 
Oof…this is at once beautifully written and extremely disturbing. I appreciate the words you found to bring me, your reader, into the store beside you and I wish I could say that I would have had the “just right” words to use in that situation. Sadly, the reality is that I would have, likely, retreated as well…but the retelling helps to remind us all of the reality that exists in our day-to-day worlds.
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Thanks, Amy. I still feel ashamed that I said nothing, though I’m still not sure what I might have said. I’m also realizing that maybe my bubble needed to be popped and that I have some thinking and soul-searching to do…
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I appreciate your honest writing. I often am a bystander, too. Numb by words heard. Makes me think how maybe I need to write and orally practice my response. My elevator speech. Maybe today’s writing is the start of that for you so next time, you are ready. I’ve been learning through Dr. Sonja Cherry-Paul’s institutes – Teaching Black History all year and Inisititue for Racial Equity. https://sonjacherrypaul.com/ It helps me to study with others to gain confidence to not remain a bystander. Keep thinking and writing, too.
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Thanks for the link, Sally. I’ll definitely check it out. I think you make a good point about prepping in advance and practicing what I might say if something similar happens again.
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Molly, you have captured their hate speech here. So maddening. The ignorance. The constant feeding of Fox news. We have those people here. And one of them I know well is an immigrant herself. Like you, I don’t say much in response. I’ve convinced myself that what I would say won’t change them.
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It’s hard to imagine having an impact, but I’ve been thinking a lot about it. It occurred to me that even if what I said did not impact those women, it might have been heard by others and could have impacted them. It’s definitely something I’m still thinking about. I’m practically pathologically non-confrontational by nature so that makes it even trickier.
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It’s so hard to put ourselves into a situation where “they” have “all the answers” to anything we might say otherwise. I think back to some wise words Laura Shovan shared once. Instead of trying to change their minds, maybe just say, “That is not my experience.”
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That’s a great response, Mary Lee. Thanks for sharing it!
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I see what you mean by our posts having parallels. Women like that incense me. I have a big mouth and probably would have told them they’re wrong on all counts. Even refugees must find work upon arrival here, so there’s little ass sitting going on. One thing I learned in the PD I wrote about is only 1% of refugees get to migrate to a host country. That’s not to the US, but all countries combined. Immigrants contribute more economically than they get, and the so-called “illegal” ones pay taxes: property taxes via rent, sales taxes, etc. Maybe you can prepare yourself for future opportunities to say something or even turn this post into an editorial in which you refute the misinformation and send it to the local paper. Lastly, you’ve given me a couple poem ideas.
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Like I commented on your blog (or maybe didn’t comment but thought), I really admire the work you’re doing to learn and grow and help around this issue. Thanks for sharing here.
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I, too, am usually at a loss for words around such ignorance and bigotry. Mary Lee Hahn’s comment, “That is not my experience” is excellent. It doesn’t throw further flame to the fire. The fact is her comment is more likely to change minds (unlikely I know) than anger will. Glenda Funk’s comments speak to my viscera! The challenge is many fold. But one, I take it as a challenge in such situations not to let these women/comments sour my day. I will not let them win by bringing me down. Two, let MLK have the last word “Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.” It’s a challenge but these women need love!
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Thanks, Dan. I like your perspective and the quote you shared as well. There’s a lot to think about. The incident has definitely sparked some reflection and some thoughtful conversations for me.
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Oh Molly, I have been in that position and it is awful. You have captured their hatred and vile othering of, well, everyone who’s not them- and your sense of horror and helplessness. I know the feeling of leaving the scene with a pit in my stomach, realizing I could have – should have – done more. I love that you wrote about this anyway because the comments here give us all ways to speak up when we, inevitably, encounter this. I also admire you reminding yourself to have empathy for them, though – hoo boy! – that’s a hard one. Thank you for writing this.
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Thanks, Amanda. I’ve really appreciated all the thoughtful comments here as well. Also, your beautifully crafted and honest writing has always been an inspiration to me!
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Gut punch, Molly.
As an immigrant (to Switzerland) who does not have command of the local language (Swiss German) I have developed a profound sense of empathy for immigrants to the US.
While my physical appearance does not trigger discrimination/judgement, as soon as I deer-in-headlights stare at someone when they rattle off an unexpected question in rapid-fire Swiss German the condescension, annoyance, and on more than one occasion, outright hostility (one time from a neighbor!) begins.
Not to say that every encounter here is like this, but enough to make me check my translator app multiple times, write out what I’m going to say on a slip of paper, formulate what possible responses might be, (and how to respond to those responses) before I set foot in a grocery story, a pharmacy or even a bakery.
I came here not knowing one word of German and six years later and thousands of dollars in language classes and countless hours of studying later, I can (proudly!) say that I speak like a preschooler in High German. Unfortunately this is a very different language than Swiss German, but it is the language the government tests immigrants on in order to keep your residency permits. I’ve passed the A2 level.
The Fox News “us vs. them” mentality has and continues to do so much damage – all over the world.
Thank you for sharing your experience. Even though you didn’t say anything in the moment, you did counteract the toxicity by writing (eloquently!) this piece.
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Hi Molly, it’s me again.
I realized I didn’t articulate what I was trying to say in my previous diatribe comment. I am not equating my voluntary, and privileged reasons for coming to Switzerland with the varied and often horrifying reasons people come to the US.
I’ve experienced less than 1% of discomfort and/or discrimination as compared to most immigrants to the US – especially in the present political climate.
But my less than 1% of “otherness” has opened my eyes and heart in a new way to what most immigrants in to the US must go through.
The flippant comment about immigrants I heard all too often when I lived in the US was, “This is America, they should speak English!” As if anyone can flip a switch and become a native speaker upon arrival. Nothing is easy about language learning, culture shock, leaving your family and friends, roadblocks to finding work, etc. etc. etc.
One never knows how hard the road was to get to the present moment. Because of my experiences here I am working harder than ever to be more empathetic and helpful to other people’s journeys.
Again, not a concise comment to your complicated experience. Feel free to delete both my comments if I offended or am taking up too much space.
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Bridget, I really appreciate both of your comments and your insight into the immigrant experience. You neither offended nor took up too much space! (Sorry it took me so long to get back to you!!) Thanks so much for sharing your experiences and for that reminder that “One never knows how hard the road was to get to the present moment.” So true and so important to remember!
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