Earlier this week, I had a roommate who I subconsciously turned into a symbol of everything about my situation—and myself—that I dislike. In the end, I realized that it was not her at all that I found so upsetting, but my lack of control and the fact that this cancer will not be tamed. I felt terrible for making her the unfair target of all my anger. Subsequently, I got another roommate for a few nights. Now I have a new roommate, who is watching Fox news.
I can her her making sounds of disgust over reports of the Democrats. She and her husband talked about their fear of Muslims “being allowed in the country,” and maybe equated them to the Nazis (I didn’t hear the entire conversation), but then complimented a doctor on his “strong German name” in a way that made me uncomfortable.
I have asked to switch rooms, and hopefully I can be moved tomorrow when something opens up after people are discharged. I’m so tired, but I’m too upset to sleep.
I miss my old roommates.
These situations in particular make me uncomfortable, because I feel as if I run away and don’t do the right thing. What would the right thing be? I had introduced myself when they came in and told them to let me know if they needed me to turn down lights or noise.
I don’t know if they noticed my name, because it’s not on my bathroom supplies like it used to be. Is it wrong of me to assume they dislike Mexicans if they watch Fox news? Is it wrong of me to assume they dislike brownish people because they are afraid of Muslims? Why am I making these assumptions? What if I’m wrong? Or worse: What if I’m right?
Since I’m half-Mexican, no one really guesses my background. Sometimes people ask me where I am from, and I say that I am from Cleveland or from Ohio and then I can tell from their reaction that it is not what the person meant. Many people hazard guesses—Greek, Jewish, Indian, Native American, Italian, Mexican—but no one claims me as one of their own. In general, I think I’m often shielded from racist comments because vaguely racist people think I’m something and don’t want to include me in their jokes in case it’s at my expense and they offend me while overtly racist people can’t target me with the matching disparaging comment. This sometimes shields me from some harsh realities.
Once someone said something about Mexicans to me, and I was so shocked, I didn’t know how to react. I was too dumbfounded to say anything. I still feel bad about not saying anything back, but my jaw is hanging open at the memory still. I think about that moment with deep shame.
Also, why do I sometimes give older people a pass? I respect my elders, but does that give them the right to be racist or sexist or homophobic? On the train a few years ago, an old man next to me with an Eastern European accent started to talk to me. I was all bundled up, with my hood pulled up, and not really interested in engaging in conversation. He said some things and I nodded to be polite and only half-turned to him, and then he said something about how too many women working was causing men to be homosexual. That kind of woke me up from my half-listening. Why was I politely listening to this? I didn’t initiate this conversation that was being held with half my disinterested hooded face against my will. I could feel the eyes of people across the aisle looking at me. “My stop is coming up,” I responded. “And I don’t really want to talk to you.”
Still, that took everything I had. Why am I not more outspoken? I used to be more of a firecracker. What happened to me?
I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to engage. I suppose at best, I could be labeled “one of the good ones” in their eyes. Not a troublemaker. Not a bad hombre. Is that what I want?
I’ve felt so helpless in all aspects of my life recently. I don’t know how to make a difference anywhere with anyone.
She just wished me a good night’s sleep. I don’t know what to do about people who are nice on an individual basis, but have a general hatred and fear. I think that some people can be good and nice, but why does she hate Democrats? Would she wish me a good night’s sleep if she knew the concerns that lurk in my liberal heart?
We both are going to sleep with fear and pain and cancer. Why must there be extra fear and pain? Must there be?