Pumpkins, face painting, and ignorance

I spent Saturday helping out a local garden/pumpkin patch’s Halloween-inspired activities for kids in the community. Other than getting to interact with some cute kids, I didn’t expect this experience to be all that memorable.

But as two of my friends and I were standing on a hill trying to decide which activity to help with next, a 60-something-year-old man with a camera around his neck sauntered over and began talking to us.

“Now, you must be South Asian students, am I right?” he said. “I don’t want to confuse you with the Native American Indians.”

I have to pause the story at this point to rant about his heinous, politically incorrect statement.

Native Americans are not Indians. Except for the fact that we’re all Homo sapiens, we are in no way related.

Christopher Columbus pigheadedly refused to believe that his discovery was America, not India, but that doesn’t justify perpetuating such stupidity more than 500 years later.

It is not acceptable to label a Mexican as Spanish, a Korean as Chinese, a German as Dutch, etc., and this should be no different.

Back to the story: He started yakking about how he traveled to India more than 20 years ago on dirt-cheap airfare rates, and we amiably asked him questions about his trip. He then asked us where we’re from, and we responded by saying, “Well, my parents are from [the city in which each of our parents grew up].”

His response? “Well, I hope you enjoy your stay here in America!”

A thick silence settled over us. My friends and I shifted uncomfortably and stared at each other in shock for a good 30 seconds.

“How the hell does this guy think we’re international students?” we vented to each other using just our eyes. “Is he such a decrepit old man that he can’t hear our American accents?”

We silently agreed to let him think what he wanted and refrain from correcting him.

But, being the colossal idiot that he was, he kept beaming and gazing into the sun.

“So, what are you studying in school?” he asked.

“Business.”

“Journalism.”

“Biology.”

“Ah, biology, I see,” he said knowingly, stroking his chin. “Now, biology is very broad, so what kind are you studying?”

“Oh, I’m pre-med,” my friend responded.

“Oh, okay. So, now, do you want to go to medical school here in the States?” he asked.

The straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Actually, we were born and raised here,” my friend informed him in a tone much more polite than I would have been able to muster.

His dopey smile that infuriated me even more. “Yeah, I was going to compliment you on your English,” he said.

So he had noticed our American accents. That meant he wasn’t hard of hearing; he was just a massive ignoramus. Although, the worn-out hearing was never a plausible excuse in the first place since he comprehended everything we were saying, therefore, subconsciously noting our origin of accent.

The fact that he heard our American accents, saw our completely Westernized clothing and still believed we were international students demonstrated the ignorant assumption that if you’re not white, you’re not really an American.

Minority individuals will always be known as immigrants or children of immigrants.

Yet, people forget America was founded through immigration and that no one, other than Native Americans, is truly a native (and even they originally came from Asia). This man’s sense of entitlement to America because of his white skin was both offensive and delusional.

I wish I could say this was the first time I had encountered such ignorance, but, unfortunately, it’s just the most recent drop in the bucket. It’s moments such as this that make me regret going to school in southern Indiana instead of Chicago.

But then I realize that if every minority group had that attitude, awareness would never pervade small towns. Large cities would become more diverse and small towns would continue to live in bubbles.

As we were getting ready to leave the volunteering site for the day, I spotted the man animatedly talking to two Asian women. Round two.


E-mail: pkansal@indiana.edu