Archive - Story Saturday – Miriam - October 28th, 2017

This post was originally made october 28th of 2017 on our original wordpress.

So, we are kicking off our Story Saturday series today!

We believe stories matter. Putting a name or a face to a story brings it home. Knowing lots of people have experiences different than yours, in your very own town makes a difference. Otherwise, you go on believing that the single incident you might have heard of, is just "something that happened once to someone," not a reality faced by millions everyday. Certainly not a reality faced by thousands in your own town. People you pass in the grocery store. People sitting at the next table at the coffee shop. People playing with their children at the park. Children in your kids' classes.

Comment left on the Hutchinson News Facebook post about the August Candlelight Vigil.

If we don't share our experiences, we cannot learn from others. Story Saturdays will be posts to help us all know our neighbors here in Hutch. Get to know a bit about others who may have different stories than you. We asked for questions to put to those we interview and we definitely welcome questions still as, hopefully, this will be a long running series.

We thought it might make others we intend to interview more comfortable to see an example of what we intend, so we started with a member of Hutch In Harmony, Miriam.

Miriam, cozy at home with a fake cup of tea. "Should I be doing something? Like holding a pretend cup of tea?"

Miriam (MUR(rhymes with fur)-ee-um, emphasis on the MUR, not the ee.) is a 28 year old Baker, Barista, Back Office Assistant at Metropolitan Coffee. A wife, mother, daughter, sister, human in her own right. Before taking on more roles at her family's coffee shop, she worked with special needs children in Hutchinson, and before that, Larned, Ks. Though not a Kansas native, she has called Kansas home for ten years now, Hutchinson specifically for about five and a half.

She was born just outside of Atlanta, Georgia and, after her parents divorce, flew back and forth from Illinois to Georgia monthly from age 5 to 18. Her father was born in Pakistan and her mother's family was German. So. Let's get to the questions. People of Facebook were invited to comment or private message questions in to us.

Was there ever a time you were made to feel different as a child?

Well, I went to school in a very small town in Illinois and my sister and I were nearly the only non-Caucasian kids in those schools. My mom is very pale skinned, has dark blonde hair, blue eyes and when she would take me to school when I was very small, the children would look at me and look at her, then look back to me. They would tell me, "You're adopted."

"No, I'm not," I'd reply.

"Yes, you are. Why didn't your real family want you?"

That was pretty rough. It wasn't until my dad came to visit my school that the kids would believe me.

I also got made fun of for my different body type. As a mostly German town, there were lots of lovely willowy figures and I...was not that. They would follow me down the hall taunting me that my butt jiggled when I walked. That was third grade.

I remember being asked, "Why are you like that?" a lot. Meaning, why was my skin tan.

It was mostly things like that. I know so many others have had more traumatic experiences as a child, I was really very lucky, but it did make me feel apart in a very fundamental way.

Have you experienced treatment here in Hutchinson that has made you feel other or slighted or discriminated against?

Oh, a few things here and there. When I worked with children, I once had a child tell me in passing, "I mostly only like white people."

Looking up at my startled face, they hastened to amend, "I mean, no offense! It's just that I really only like Americans!"

So many issues with that statement. I remember trying to gently point out surrounding students of color and explaining to them that they were also Americans. Skin color did not have anything to do with being American or not.

The worst part of that interaction however, is that I was not able to speak to parents or guardians about any students. It had to go through their specific teacher. When I mentioned the interaction to the relevant teacher, it was brushed off as unfortunate, but unimportant and the teacher refused to have a conversation with the parents/guardians about it.

There was another incident at The Hutchinson Gathering for Gardeners in the spring of 2016. The various campaigns for presidency were gaining momentum and the primaries hadn't yet occurred. I was sitting next to an older gentleman and I told him that I had a house for the first time since childhood where I could put in plants. I was so excited. He then mentioned that he'd be voting for Trump, so... As if I shouldn't get too used to having a home here. I looked around and realized in a room of seventy-five or so people, I was one of two people of color, and the only person under fifty there. I suddenly felt very small and alone and like I didn't belong there.

Maybe that isn't what he was implying. But that's the filter I have in my head all the time. Are they saying x because of conversation? Because of my gender? Because of my age? Because of my color? Because they are having a bad day? It's exhausting sometimes. And it's so much worse for others.

Is there something you wish people knew or a way people could make it better here for you?

One of the things that really irks me is when people ask me where I'm from. Sometimes even "What are you?" And when I say Georgia or Illinois, they say, "No. But where are you from??"

As if I couldn't possibly be from this country.

I once had a woman come up to me at work and wave her hand in a circle in front of my face and say, "So, what's all this?"

I really have no problem with people being curious. It's human nature. I totally understand that. But I wish they would ask, "What is your heritage?" instead. It asks essentially the same thing, but it doesn't make me feel as if I don't belong.

What’s your favorite thing in the whole world and why?

Oh geez. I don't know anymore. I have a six month old baby and right now I'm still in that early fog of not even being able to remember what I like. Everything sounds like far too much work. I love sleep, but I don't want to sleep, because maybe I should do something I like, but that sounds exhausting so I lay on the sofa at midnight, watching Korean dramas, trying desperately to stay awake so I can enjoy "me" time.

What did I love before?

Sunshine on my skin, reading epistolary novels, trying out new recipes, sewing, travelling, dancing (ballroom especially), long walks to nowhere, spending time with my family, playing board games, drinking tea on cold days, growing all the plants...