OUR DIFFERENCES SHOULD NOT DIVIDE US. HELP SOMEONE! – BY PAUL INYANG

In my financial desperation I took on selling Tupperware. You have never been used until you do a job like this one. Your salary it totally dependent on commission for selling every piece in a set of dishes or house ware. The worse part is that you have to drive around strange neighborhoods, trying to sell unattractive products to equally uninterested and financially strapped “customers”. Worse yet, you have to generate your own leads. I want you to imagine a black foreigner with a thick accent trying to sell dishes and knives in a blue collar white neighborhood. There are other names for such neighborhoods but I will stay away from such references.  I happened to knocked on the door of an old lady and in a flash was face to face with a shot gun and someone shouting—“n…..g…r get off my damn porch”. My life flashed before me and I thought I would be blown to smithereens. You can imagine the race of the person I am referring to and juxtapose that with the notion of the South, white robes, burning crosses and the confederate flag. I know that I am bombarding some of you with images that you may not be familiar with but they are all symbols of hate. Believe it or not it made no difference to me, because I was a hungry and a motivated young man. I ran for the day but subsequently went back—foolishly in my naiveté. I simply did not know better. Perhaps if I did, I would not have done so.

History is for the books but what I found out much later, is that people live them and if one is fortunate enough to live through it, they do have a story to share. But ultimately, I made some friends in that neighborhood who were able to guide me to safety—though most of them could not afford to buy from me except for a few and a very special lady—the same one who pointed a gun at me. I believe, I was just a lucky guy or just fell into the category of the fool who by all accounts, as they they say, is taken care of by God.

The story is a much longer one because it did not happen overnight. People are not always who they appear to be until you are able to understand that there is always a story behind what you see. Yes, we are different and I must have appeared to be “something” to my lady friend but somehow we got past it. Hate has no place in our world and we have actually more in common than we care to admit. The problem is that we rarely take the time to encounter each other in meaningful ways. We may also not have the patience or the intuitive persistence to find out about each other and hear our different stories. You really do not know anyone until you can stop the noise in your head and listen to them tell you their true story. It may expose your vulnerability but it will make you human. Most of all, it will help you learn to love despite our differences. So be kind to others—especially those you may not know or understand. Help someone.