different than me, yet always the same

It's funny where I find the greatest conversation...

I shared third shift with a young black woman: a single mother, a product of a single mother, surviving as a refugee in suburbia so that her elementary school daughter has a chance to succeed. I asked her how the school system treats her daughter. She says that her daughter quietly keeps to herself, but she's received the treatment: from peers calling her the n-word to her bus driver throwing her off the bus for a disciplinary matter (an event caught on camera).

We talked about black and white, men and women. Black women are expected to dress presentably for their man -- serve as a trophy. I once experienced this first hand. A resident asked me how she looked. I told her she looked fine for a volleyball game. We entered the gym and her campus boyfriend said, "Damn girl! Why don't you do something with yourself?" She looked at me like I should have known.

In contrast, I find it comical that white women dress up for themselves (and for other white women). Rarely are white men concerned with the public status of their significant other; a white man is more likely to become jealous if their girlfriend attracts too much attention from other men or at the expense of their own pride. It reminded me of the Cedar Point phenomenon: girls dressed in their summer nothings, and the dude can't keep his hands off, as if he's worried about losing his possession.

White men play dibs with women; black men keep it real. Same sin, different manifestation.

I tentatively approached spirituality last evening, but I gave it one shot. I shared a true story told by another co-worker, a Wiccan by confession. Apparently, her 6-year-old daughter returned from first grade and told her the real meaning of Christmas. Blast those public school educators! My junior high teacher only tried to convert us to communism. A first grader sharing Jesus with her Wiccan mom? Rebellion takes on redeemable forms.

BOOM -- I was in! The strong woman before me was appalled at the unclean spirits that our co-worker would bring into her household. We agreed that this is the kind of stuff one doesn't invite. Another point of emphasis: I told her that white people are generally skeptical of things they haven't seen for themselves. They might accept Wicca or Masonry almost on a lark. This was mind-blowing to her. You won't find too many black men and women (or Hispanic for that matter) that deny the existence of spirits. Remember that we often build our God around our beliefs.

I'll spare the details, but here's the conclusion: white people deny the existence of Satan's minions, Latinos are deathly afraid or superstitious concerning them, and African-Americans acknowledge their spiritual authority, but often market it for personal gain. Same source of deception, different manifestation.

Despite the cultural differences, we realize that we are two children of the same God, battling the same enemy, through the same authority of the Holy Spirit. I relish this unity and discovery of truth, even at 4:36 in the morning.