Navigating The Neighbourhood Of Narrow-Mindedness
People notice you in restaurants, on the street, in shopping centres, on the beaches. I like to think to myself that it's a bit like being Tom Cruise in a way. He also gets noticed in restaurants, on the street, in shopping centres, on the beach. The problem is though - and this may be the difference between myself and Tom Cruise, (apart from the great job, lots of money, beautiful ex wives and weird religion) - is that just after they notice you some people give you a weird disapproving look.
Whenever I receive such a look it feels to me as if the sender of said look has just seen the worst sight of their lives and are highly rattled to be reminded that there are such things and people in the world capable of upsetting their day.
I've become a master at spotting those looks in my life as I see them so often. I'm even so used to them that sometimes I kind of zone out and don't take notice, but others who are with me do notice. What I've also learned in my almost 5 decades of life is that where you live and the kind of people situated there, be they open-minded or naturally prejudiced will determine your experience of living there.
This only became apparent to me when I moved from one neighbourhood in Cape Town to another. Before the move I enjoyed going to shopping malls, restaurants, and other public venues without much ado. If people did notice my difference they were very discreet about it and never let on. Those who I did engage with never let on if they saw me as an earth oddity or not. They seemed to just see me as your average Joe Soap.
After I moved, however I felt as though I'd run away and joined a freak show - in which I was the only freak. Wherever I went, be it a restaurant or a shopping mall, I began to feel as if I was permanently on display. There were weird disapproving looks galore! One little boy stared at me so hard at in a restaurant that the food he was chewing fell out of his mouth.
So it can be quite disconcerting at times when you're out and about, just minding your own business really, when you become privy to all the funny looks and stares coming your way. After 12 years in my new neighbourhood of narrow-mindedness I'm still not used to it. Where I used to enjoy going to places like restaurants on my own, I now much rather prefer, for health and financial reasons though as well as social - to stay home and cook my own food. I do still enjoy going out to eat with friends though where I'm often not so easily noticed being in the company of other people.
Looking for a good night out a few weeks ago a friend told me of The Tempest, a production of a Shakespearean play she had seen which she said was quite good. During my school years I for some reason excelled at understanding all things Shakespeare whereas everyone else in the class struggled. I read ahead and even borrowed copies of other Shakespearean plays from the English teacher to read in my spare time. (Yes, I was THAT dedicated!) So, my last encounter with the Bard being a little less than twenty years ago I decided to get tickets to the Maynardville Open-Air Theatre to see The Tempest.
It was actually one of those borrowed plays I had read at school. In the homework class at boarding school actually. For some reason I deemed it very uncool to actually do my homework in the homework class in boarding school, preferring to do it at night rather, so I opted to read Shakespeare instead. The person in charge of the class didn't mind as long as I kept quiet which of course if you're an avid reader is very easy to do.
A few weeks before the play I decided to watch Kenneth Brannagh's Hamlet. I had seen the movie sometime in the late 90s and had enjoyed it tremendously. But now as I rewatched it I found that I struggled to grasp what was going on, unlike my young self who was enthralled by it roughly 30 years ago. I also found Jack Lemmon to be very out of place in a movie of a Shakespearean play, expecting him to crack a joke at any minute much like he did in those old comedies from the 60s, but alas it never came. The most alarming of the two being of course that I was no longer able to follow Shakespeare it seemed. I resolved not to worry too much about it though as if nothing else it would be a good night out blanketed beneath a star-filled sky, and all eyes would be on the stage rather than on me.
Twas the night of The Tempest and I was once again enthralled by the beauty of the open-air theatre. The last time i had been there was to see a production of Othello. This time it was much better lit with fairy lights and even a little place where you could buy coffee and cookies. After walking through a throng of people to get to the staging area I began to feel a bit odd, as if something were missing. It was almost akin to the feeling you get when you leave home and keep on thinking there's something you've forgotten, but for the life of you, you can't seem to think what it is.
After the play began and the actors started delivering their dialogue I found that I slipped into the language of the 17th century as if it were an old comfortable pair of slippers. It was almost as if the thirty years in between had never happened.
After the play my partner for the evening and I decided to get a cup of coffee. It was while we were waiting that I suddenly realised what that odd feeling I felt earlier had been: No-one had given me that weird disapproving look I had grown so used to back in the narrow-mindedness. I started to think about the last time I had been there when seeing Othello. Even though the area in which I stood was at that time pitch dark with no lovely fairy lights my world seemed more illuminated by seemingly being surrounded by more open-minded people. I had absolutely no notion of what it was like to receive those awful looks. Oh well, I thought, life was much different now but at least I had been given the night off from having Moebius syndrome.
Postscript: Even though I have a disability which makes me look physically different and I am used to being the Elephant Man in the room, when I see someone else who looks a bit odd for whatever reason, I also tend to take a good look at them. That, I think, is just part of human nature, and can’t be helped.
But what I believe can be helped is how we react to that person. Instead of giving them a scowl or a dirty look, how about giving them a smile and saying hello. You would probably end up making that person feel better about themself and more importantly it would make you feel better about yourself too.
Comments
Post a Comment