On Prejudice

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I’m not prejudiced. 

Today I was walking down the sidewalk as someone was approaching from the opposite direction. I clutched my purse a little tighter, put my head down to avoid eye contact, and picked up my pace. It wasn’t my neighbor or the little old white lady I see at the grocery store. 

I love everyone. 

I see a mom with four raggedy kids in tow pushing her cart down the frozen aisle. The two middle kids are fighting with each other. The youngest is whining. The oldest is shuffling along all in black, looking sullen and recalcitrant. I skip the frozen aisle. 

I don’t make judgments based on a person’s looks.

The only person at the party not engaged in conversation is a young lady in ripped jeans, with piercings and tattoos and a shirt with too much skin showing, sitting quietly in a corner. I move to the other side of the room. 

I’m not biased. 

I listen to the southern drawl and the use of an overabundance of slang flying out of that person’s mouth. And, oh, the grammatically incorrect sentences make me cringe. And the political overtones make me scowl in disgust. My mind is making corrections at breakneck speed. 

I’m impartial.

I look at the family sitting at the next table in the restaurant. They’re all in baseball caps, drinking beer, and laughing boisterously. I am sitting quietly with dignity, sipping on a little wine, conversing quietly with my table mates. I’ve got class. My nose inches into the air a bit. 

All lives matter. 

I meet a family and hear bits of their stories of broken relationships, confusing parentage, and non-traditional family settings. Thank God my family isn’t like that. (See Luke 18:9-14)

I accept those who are different from me.

I see a woman in a hijab, and my first thought is all the killings done in the name of Islam. Fear kicks in. And I avoid eye contact. 

I don’t discriminate.

I walk by a young man sitting on the sidewalk playing his guitar with a guitar case open before him and a sign that says, “Anything helps. Out of work. Two children to feed.” My mind immediately begins to think about all the bad choices he must’ve made to end up in this situation. 

But I’m not prejudiced.

Lord, have mercy!