Considering how my hometown lacked any sort of cultural and/or religious diversity, I feel my story is less than interesting, but a story nonetheless. I searched for a school that would put me as close to a city as possible, have a great theater department, and would have a residential life experience. More importantly, I wanted to escape all that I associated with as being small-town America. George Mason was not on anyone else’s radar at that time (everyone else was determined to do go Tech, JMU, VCU or didn’t really go to college) so my criteria was met.
Away to college I go
I will never forget the first hall meeting for the second floor of Washington. Everyone went around the lounge doing the obligatory ice breakers; you know, the “say your name, a word that describes you that starts with the first letter of your name, and where you are from” kind of thing. In the corner sat an exotic looking girl. I had convinced myself that she must have been from South America because of her skin coloring. She was from Saudi Arabia… "Wow, wrong continent, dumbass,” is what went through my head. I started to talk to her more and more that semester. I listened as she told me that she wasn’t allowed to be in a room allowed with boys. No big deal, I thought. Neither was I when I lived at home. But it was a big deal. The consequences she would have received were far more sever than anything my parents would have done to me. I got the stern “Emily, you know you are not allowed to entertain guests upstairs” even if the purpose was to go pick out a movie and we were only going to be in my room for 2.5 seconds. Summer told me of stoning’s, and girls being forced out of school, and entire family reputations being ruined because of speculation. I listened as she talked about wearing the hijab and how she chose to come to America because she wanted a new identity. Summer’s life in Saudi Arabia was beyond anything I could ever fathom.
The summer after my freshman year of college was another huge awakening for me. I applied for a job in the Office of Admissions during the school year, but it wasn’t until three weeks into my summer vacation that I was called for an interview. Luckily I was hired right before my supervisor and I hung up the phone. I realized being back in Goochland was less than desirable after having been on my own and experiencing a new world, so to speak. After lengthy discussion, my parents were 100% behind me moving back up to school to take the job. It was there, in the Office of Admissions, that I truly became aware of the many cultural differences and how much I enjoyed learning about them.
The most memorable moment: A learning experience
Yes, my freshman year residence hall had students from all over the world, and yes, I would sit in the lounge and listen to how much their lives differed from mine. But nothing can be as telling as my first real business/educational interactions with different cultures. Nor can it replace my first experience of trying to talk to a female applicant from the Middle East and having her husband do all of the responding to my questions. I understood that she was Muslim (because of her hijab), I understood that she wanted to further her education in the United States, but I could not for the life of me understand why she was not answering for herself. After all, I would not allow someone answer for me.
I started doing research on the Middle Eastern culture on the internet; learning about how in some (not all; and definitely not all Middle Eastern women tolerate this) Middle Eastern cultures the man does all of the speaking for the woman. I still could not understand it. But I had to learn to accept it. From then on I decided to continue to ask the woman the questions and look her in her eyes so that she would know I would listen while knowing that I would have to turn my head to listen to her male counterpart. It’s certainly an imperfect system, but it’s the least I can do to possibly help a woman feel empowered to speak.
But in this office is also where I met Layla. Layla hates it when you ask her if she is Indian. Not Native American, but Indian. She has beautiful long dark hair, and a warm complexion. “No, jackass. I am African. White. Jewish. Muslim…” was her typical response. Her father is a white Jew from NY city that got a job with the State Department. Being stationed in Senegal, Africa, he met and fell in love with her mother, a Muslim. Layla lived her first few years in Africa, but when her father was transferred to Haiti, Layla and her siblings went with him and her mother stayed behind. By the time Layla was 10 she had been more places, and could speak more languages than I could at age 25. I wanted to hear about her trips to visit her mom, I wanted to hear about the conflicting religion beliefs that both parents began imposing after the divorce (she became agnostic). There are many more friendships that forged me so much further ahead than when I set foot on Mason's soil, (like my friend Cheryl that is one-fourth Panamanian, one-fourth Cape Verdean--a place I didn't even know existed until I met her--and half African American). Each relationship truly made an impact on who I am today, regardless of whether we just occasionally stalk each other on facebook, or no longer have ties past our undergraduate careers.
My proudest moment
Its not secret that I am the personified version of the "A" from LGBTQA. Some of my best friends are homosexual. So living in California when Proposition 8 was going on the ballots was a living hell. The "Vote YES" people were on every corner, waiving their banners, inciting people to honk their horns to show support really infuriated me. But my proudest moment came when I was riding my bike to the grocery store. At first I was going through all the routes in my head so that I would not have to come face to face with these people who I feel are hateful. Unfortunately there was no way around them.
As I approached the group, an older African American man said to me, "Young lady, I hope you vote yes on Proposition 8 on Tuesday." I hit the brakes. I couldn't believe it. Here was a person that had he fallen in love with a white woman before 1967 in Virginia, would not have been allowed to marry her because of anti-miscegenation statutes. I calmly said, "No sir, I am voting No. I don't believe we should tell people who they should or should not love. And as someone who wasn't allowed to marry outside of race a little more than 40 years ago, I hope you won't vote yes either." The look on his face was not of anger, but of a careful consideration. I don't know how he voted, but if I even made me second guess himself, I did my job.
Where I am today
The Office of Admissions really opened my eyes with new friendships, but also created a yearning to learn more so I would be able to best help the students. I now know that you don't use your left hand to touch someone of Middle Eastern culture because its considered an insult. I now know that personal space is not an issue for some cultures and its considered rude to step back. I now know that while America is an individualist society, most are not, and its important to respect the role and influence in family. Working at such a diverse school, I have realized that staying on top of current affairs is also a great way to cross the culture bridge with students. (Just yesterday I sat and talked with a Libyan student about the turmoil her home country is going through. Understandably distraught, we talked for a while about the oppression and the inhumane acts that are taking place.) I have now traveled to India, Sri Lanka, Greece, Puerto Rico, the Caribbean, Jamaica, and all over the United States. I really have come a long away from the girl that was told by her voice and speech teacher that she had the worst country accent he had ever heard. Overall, I think all of my experiences, from living in the residence halls, to working in admissions, to working in an academic program called "Global Affairs" has made me appreciate my cultural ties and has molded me to become a much tolerant, much more knowledge seeking, and a much, much, more informed person. But I also know that there is still so much to learn.
