The Other Foot

Hey now!

As hubby and I were preparing to attend a dinner over the holiday season, I had a major revelation.

You know how people like to practically fetishize anyone (or anything) who might be different or not of the local flora and fauna?

You know the scene.

Example: My husband has a strong accent. It's very distinct. He's clearly not from Georgia, or the US period. In our home, it's not a big deal. I mean don't get me wrong--I love his accent! It's one of his most endearing features to me.

However, I don't do that thing.

You know the thing.

The thing where I either have him repeat things just to hear it. Or the thing where I ask him to say certain words or phrases. Or the thing where I offer up my own fake accent to match.

(Actually, because I've been learning Tamil, I have nailed the accent...but I don't use it as a punchline. I legit use it to communicate with my in-laws, because they understand their own accent even if I happen to be speaking English through it.)

Only now, a few years later, do I realize how annoying that must be for him.

I only realized it after it was done to me.

You see, in a setting where my extended family hosts, there are two guarantees: One, I will bring some kind of decadent dessert. Two, our kids and I will be the only native English speakers present.

There will be many opportunities to "showcase" my American-ness.

I must point out that I've never been one of those types. I am proud of his heritage, but I don't put him on display like a prized show pony. He needn't perform on demand. He reciprocates. Because we are in tune with and accustomed to each other, the things that make us seem exotic of noteworthy to others are barely noted.

I sorta digress.

Anyway...as I was getting ready for the dinner I was a little nervous. There would be some new faces in the crowd and I wasn't sure I was up to the task of being the foreigner of the day.

Foreigner.

And suddenly it wasn't just about me. I had this epiphany of sorts. I now understood exactly why he met my mommy group and other social settings with more trepidation than excitement.

He didn't hate my associates or even my friends.

He hated being made a spectacle of--and some of them, unfortunately, would do that. Not necessarily out of spite, but hey, even accidental injuries hurt. He didn't want to perform and put on the happy face. He didn't want to hear about "this cool Indian I work with," and more likely than not he had no clue who that cool Indian even was. (Why do people assume all people within a nationality automatically know each other, anyway? Why is this a thing?!)

Every experience brings a new understanding. I never realized how out of place he can feel at times here in the States. I'm not sure it's something I could grapple with daily, honestly. I'm now that much more dedicated to providing a welcoming atmosphere for everyone we know, both native and foreign. After all, we are ALL foreigners to someone.

Even so, there's no need to highlight and spotlight the differences when the similarities are as much, if not more, unifying.

The entire affair bears testament to his character. He's incredibly  strong, resilient, intelligent, and kind.

We haven't decided who the lucky one is--but it's a win-win scenario.