Intolerance Is No Joke
‘I am so sick of political correctness,” an acquaintance whined recently. “We’re not allowed to say anything funny anymore. You can’t tell fat jokes, ethnic jokes, mother-in-law jokes; you can’t use words like crippled or retarded or polack. These damned Democrats have outlawed comedy.”
If that’s political correctness, then I’m all for it. I guess I never did have much of a sense of humor.
Like when my acquaintance Jerome took a lucrative position in a Texas border town. In six months he was back. “They had a plaque on the wall that said: Our Strength is in Our Diversity. I had to watch every word I said. I got so I couldn’t stand walking on eggshells every day so I quit.”
How could I tell him that’s what you get for being sexist, racist and bigoted? Not to mention arrogant and insensitive. He thinks he’s very tolerant. He didn’t sexually abuse any of the women, nor refuse to work with anybody or try to get anybody fired.
Years ago a friend confided, “Inside we’re still the same. We have the same hopes, dreams, plans, ambitions; then one day you look in the mirror and your body has betrayed you - yet you’re still the same inside.” Mulling that over, I realized I would be me whether I was born in China, Indonesia or Pretoria. Outwardly I may look different and speak a different language, but inside I would always be me.
This helped me ignore outward appearance - fat or thin, young or old, athletic or physically challenged, level of intelligence or education, religion or ethnic origin - and get to the hopes, dreams, ambition and personality of the individual. We’re not all alike, but outward appearance has nothing to do with our differences.
When my son discussed moving his family to Post Falls to be closer to us, we were overjoyed. Then he called to say they had reconsidered. They feared it would be unpleasant at best and dangerous at worst for his beautiful stepdaughter whose biological father is Saudi Arabian. I started to protest that I’ve noticed no overt racism then realized why should I? I’m white, Christian, American-born - politically correct, I guess.
None of us is in the majority all the time. Any one of us can feel the sting of intolerance that would keep us out of certain jobs, social groups or establishments. I once wondered what it would be like to have the hopes, dreams, and ambitions of a 20-year-old in a 60-year-old, overweight body. Now I know. And it isn’t funny.
MEMO: Your Turn is a feature of the Wednesday and Saturday Opinion pages. To submit a Your Turn column for consideration, contact Rebecca Nappi at 459-5496 or Doug Floyd at 459-5466 or write Your Turn, The Spokesman-Review, P.O. Box 2160, Spokane, WA 99210-1615.