Assumptions Hide the Truth

You’d think we’d be over it. At our age, we should have learned not to judge someone by what they wear, what they do for a living, or where they live. Indeed, there’s a famous best-seller that instructs us not to judge, lest we be judged.

Yet, we still make all sorts of assumptions about people based on little or no information.

Take Keeper, for instance. When we meet all those years ago, I took one look at him and my first thought was, “I’ll bet he teaches social studies.”

Now, the only basis I had for this judgment was the fact that he had a bad haircut and was wearing clothes that were at least 15 years out of date. I don’t know what pegged him as a teacher. With the haircut and the clothes he could have been a felon just released from the penitentiary.

As it turns out, he was still in prison, doing 10-to-life as a counselor.

Anyway, I do try to guard against making up stories about people I don’t know but it’s just so much fun. What else are you going to do with a long layover at an airport?

Two weeks ago, I had to confront the fact that I still harbor preconceptions about people. I was getting a mani/pedi, the one girly treat I allow myself. Usually, during my appointment I prefer to remain quiet, close my eyes, and relax.

On this day, however, the manicurist and I were alone in the shop and it seemed rude not to attempt a conversation.

“Do you have any children?” was my opening line.

“Oh, no!” she said. “I’m not married.”

That’s all it took. Tracy told me her whole life story.

Now, let me confess to my preconceptions. Based on the fact that she worked in a nail salon, I had assumed that she was Vietnamese and worked as a manicurist because she was uneducated. I was half right.

Tracy revealed that she had a degree in business administration, was a registered pharmacy technician, and was getting a second degree in Management of Information Systems from Cal State, Hayward. Her boyfriend, who was doing his residency at a local hospital, wanted to get married, but Tracy was in no hurry.

As she massaged my feet, we had a lively conversation about the merits of Windows vs. Mac operating systems and her desire to land a tech support job.

Some of what I learned played into my ingrained stereotype. She had a large family and they were all close. “Asians like to live near each other,” she said. She planned to live at home with her parents until she married.

Arranged marriages are still common in her culture. According to Tracy, “American men like Vietnamese women because they are faithful and happy to stay home and keep the house.” In fact, she had hooked up a former colleague with her cousin, who came over from Vietnam without having laid eyes on her fiancé, based solely on Tracy’s word that he was a good guy.

I left the salon buffed, polished, and ashamed to realize that I had felt more comfortable with Tracy filing my toenails when I unconsciously thought of myself as her superior. Snobbery is not a good look for me and I need to change it.

Now that my eyes have been opened, I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find out my newspaper carrier has a PhD.

Everyone has a story. Do you dare to ask?