Unsullied

I've shared this story before. I want to share it again.

 Around this time last year, I was in a cab in Dallas, heading to my lodging from DFW. My usual traveling excitement/nerves/curiosity always manifests itself in the form of Chatty Kathy, so of course, I couldn't help but to initiate (force) some sort of conversation with the nearest human being. I told the cab driver about what I was doing in Dallas (theatre), and what life is like in New York City. Osama told me about his years spent in Texas, and his Americanized teenage daughters, all told with heart and humor.

At some point towards the end of the ride, I glimpsed an attractive, royal, blue-green and white "rug" folded up and sitting on the console between the two front seats. I casually said to him, "wow, that's a beautiful rug. Where'd you get it?" Osama told me it was his prayer mat, and it was from Jordan. "You think it's beautiful? You can have it." Shocked, flattered, and a bit uncomfortable at being offered  such a reverent gift from a stranger, I kindly declined, and he kindly insisted, saying that is was his way of fighting against the sad "Muslim-terrorist generalization" in this country.

Mats aren't required for Islamic prayer. A clean space is, which is why many Muslims use mats, so that they can pray where ever they are, with an ensured space of cleanliness. It was only mid-day, so I'm pretty sure Osama had at least three more rounds of prayer for the day. Yet, in order to pierce the sad "Muslim-terrorist generalization" in this country, he started with one stranger from New York City in the back of his cab. Because he was tired of seen as a threat, he gave me his ground. His holy ground. 

A year later, I am still moved and lifted by this act of love. And yet I am saddened. I am sad that this stranger felt he needed to give over something in order to be accepted neutrally, unsullied. As a black, gay man, I think on the parts of myself I've felt I needed to give up, at one time or another, to not be seen as a threat. It is too common that those of us with dark skin, hijabs, same-sex partners, disabilities, poverties, breasts, feel we need to do give up something in order to be accepted unsullied. Why must we do the work? Can we just unabashedly be who we are, without giving up anything, and let everyone else figure out how to deal with it? 

I brought Osama's prayer mat back to Brooklyn with me and it's been hanging above my bed for about a year now. I look at it and think of it as a kind of love recharger. I charge up, and as I go about my New York City day, I remind myself that the only thing I need to give is love. Nothing more. Nothing less. It's interesting how strangers deal with love.

 

Comments

[Dean Grey]

I love this.

I was hoping to see a picture of the actual prayer rug but I'm glad to hear you have held onto it all this time.

It reminds me of a quote I saved:

"Blessed are those who give without remembering. And blessed are those who take without forgetting."

(-Bernard Meltzer)

A part of me likes to think Osama probably doesn't even remember he gave the prayer rug away yet you'll never forget his act of generosity and love.

:)

-Dean