A Case Of Mistaken Identity

Broken identities are sadly perpetuated.

Recently on my usual walk along the shore, I was reminded of a detrimental idea.

I noticed a couple with about four small children, ages 12 to about three or four.

One of the adults were carrying a large kite with many long and thin bright streamers.

The smaller children were excited as they walked among the dancing streamers.

I looked at them with admiration in the honored expectation of having my own children one day, enjoying the fun of flying a kite with them and my dear wife.

As I continued on my way and contemplated these heartwarming thoughts, I heard one of the adults snap at the children for stepping on the streamers, using some harsh words and expletives.

I glanced back again, now worriedly thinking about how such words may harm a child's mind despite the the chastisement's aim of correction.

One of the adults noticed me looking in their direction.

I was a short distance ahead of them as our paths came close to crossing.

Again I heard some other expletives expressed with “staring at us” and “going to kick his ---” and some other things which surprised me.

I looked over at them again wondering if they were talking about / to me.

I now noticed what I initially thought was the father was actually another woman dressed as a man.

My heart's desire was to correct their misconceptions of why I had looked over at them in the first place.

I desired to express my initial joy watching a family on their way to fly a kite.

I wanted to tell them how I was looking forward to sharing a similar experience one day in the near future.

But the situation that had developed before me was not as my heart was echoing.

That sad situation brought me a reminder of when I was a child.

One day I asked my mother why people were looking at me.

I don't remember my age, but I may have been about six or eight.

Her response was something like: “they see a good looking boy dressed nicely”.

I was skeptical because she's my mother, so of course she will say something like that.

My next thought that day near the shore, trying to figure out why I was hearing hostilities from this woman, reminded me of other memories when in grade school.

I remember noticing, now more understood and defined, a complex emanating from other school children.

It seemed dangerous to simply be looking at other children in their eyes.

I recall some kids asking in hostility “what are you looking at?”

One's eyes had to look away for fear of inciting a violent interaction, yet violence or anything negative was not the intention.

It may have been some kind of cultural insecurity, I think... one that I don't recall having as a child but later developed as I grew older.

This notion had not infiltrated me at home, but at school and later in life through media and life at-large. (again, looking back and attempting to make sense of past experiences from an adult's perspective when searching for understanding)

I recall that often times the hostility was from kids that looked similar to me ethnically, whether at school or on the street in my neighborhood or elsewhere.

There is a well-known trigger in certain circles of people, again in places I grew up and resided, of the danger of simply looking at someone or in their general direction.

I'm sure it goes further than an inferiority complex.

I do notice that any detrimental notion is learned and passed around from person to person, or from parent to child, or within peer groups, or from superior groups defining inferior groups as inferior.

I couldn't help think of these things that day along the shore.

When I looked over at them again, still in the hope of having some kind words to give them to dispel their fears, or worries, or distemper again the mother expressed hostility loud enough for her children to hear but also for me to hear.

Now the children were watching me and repeating the same disgust, mirroring what I suspected was their mother's thoughts.

I was reminded at that point that children absorb every sentiment their parents feed them, whether negative or positive, constructive or destructive, defeating or uplifting.

I can't help but wonder the possibility of an inferiority complex (or something else) these children may already carry with them from what is likely their mother's (and perhaps the partner's) insecurities or whatever else causes them to be suspicious when someone simply glances over at them in an innocent manner.