Say Anything?
“If I’ve learned one thing in life, it’s not to be so judgmental of other people”
– PATTI SMITH
Where can you find celebrities, hipsters, gangsters, gays, bros, Barbies, anorexics and the Governator - all in one place? The original Gold’s Gym in Venice, CA.
It took me about a year to return to the Mecca of Bodybuilding after my recovery from Aplastic Anemia. I was so weak I couldn’t lift two pounds. I couldn’t experience the elliptical for more than two minutes, let alone be in that bacteriaplex at all. I’m happy to be healthy enough to have unfrozen my membership, and am working hard to take off the five to ten pounds I battle because I love to snack, particularly after the 8 PM deadline. Plus, there’s my ice cream addiction.
I was having a cardio day, peddling in place and listening to Prince’s “Kiss.” Heating up, I took off my headphones to remove my outer layer. In my tank tee and naked ears, I overheard my cycling neighbor, a young white male in an “Hecho en Venice” t-shirt talking to his millennial man-bunned buddy.
“…Most of the country is fucking black,” he spat.
He saw me, two bikes over, overhearing him.
“Hi!” he chortled, waving at me with wiggly fingers. Man-bun laughed nervously. I could feel my blood pressure increase and my palms start to sweat.
“You’re really cool, man,” I shot back.
I sat stewing. What I said was pathetic.
Having moved onto the floor for sit-ups, I saw those same guys pass by. Man-bun averted his eyes. My head was spinning with what could have been, as I fantasized a better response.
I got up mid set to look for the two and redeem myself, but they were nowhere to be found.
I searched for the regulars that I chat with at Gold’s but was unable to locate any. I’d seen this one particular guy many times before with his perfect body, gorgeous face and serpentine dreads. We met eyes and smiled. I introduced myself, told him what had happened, and asked what he would have done. Did I do enough?
“It’s a start,” he said, shaking my hand and introducing himself as a martial arts teacher.
“You said something. Many people say nothing.“
I recalled the time when the new next-door neighbor was angrily confronting my gardeners for blowing leaves into his yard. I calmly walked out front, surprising them.
“I thought I heard someone speaking disrespectfully,” I said.
“I….I never speak disrespectfully!” he reacted.
“Just making sure.” I went back inside.
I said something.
Had I misunderstood the dude at Gold’s? I should’ve gotten my sorry ass off of that bike and walked the two steps to find out what he meant, if it wasn’t just a racial slur. My reaction led me to what I said. If I had responded instead, I might have asked him if I’d heard something out of context and should mind my own damned business, or if he was an actual racist.
This morning at the dog park, I was spending quality time with my human pals having great conversation while watching the pooches run. A family of Orthodox Jews was standing outside the fence looking in, identifiable by their hairstyle and clothing. I made some lame comments that I can’t bring myself to write down. I was triggered by past personal experience with this religious sect, having felt judged for being a same sex mom, and even more so because I am a secular Jew. One of my park friends confronted me, informing me that she’s Orthodox. I suppose I felt I had the street cred to joke about my own tribe. I was, and still am, ashamed of my words. My friend was generous enough to engage in conversation instead of knocking my teeth out. The inappropriate remarks opened a dialogue that I know will continue for weeks to come, as we watch dogs frolic in the morning light.
I own my irreverent sense of humor. What I said wasn’t funny. It was far from OK, and miles away from mindful awareness as I can imagine. We spent hours in our teacher training on diversity and mindfulness, and today I saw how mindless I could be. Sometimes lessons are learned the hard way. I’ll try to forgive that guy on the lifecycle at Gold’s Gym, and I’ll try to forgive myself.