Today while crossing campus I heard a bicycle quickly coming up beside me. After a couple of months I've found myself with the superhuman strength of being able to detect what mobile object is fastly approaching me from behind; scooter, bicycle, golf cart, skateboarder etc etc. Hopefully the day that one of them finally runs me over it'll only be a ninety pound asian with her foot riding the brake of a relatively less threatening childs scooter. Anyway, so as this blonde boy passes me peddling like a maniac on his bike I noticed a book sticking out of his backpack with the title MUSLIMS written larger than life in yellow lettering that resembled the mustard I'd drowned my frankfurter in at a German restaurant only a few days prior. I don't know why, but it made me laugh uncomfortably. Isn't it interesting how obsessed we are with figuring one another out? We spend hours reading, researching and trying to find some theory that can explain to us why one persons idea of normality is so different from our own. We are all written into the same book of life, but we are all so far from being on the same page; and this makes us mad with curiosity. And even though we know that curiosity killed the cat we are determined to follow him six feet under in order to explain the unexplainable.
So as I continued on my brisk morning walk with that giant yellow MUSLIMS tattooed to my memory bank I reflected back on a scene from Stepford Wives where all the women are discussing Christmas decorations but then reassuringly turn to Bette Midler and say,"Don't worry Bobby, we brought some Hanukkah suggestions just for you!" She sarcastically replies with, "Oh that sounds lovely. Maybe I can take some pinecones and spell out BIG JEW across my front lawn!" Labels can be so humorous and misleading. Nevertheless we read books with titles like "MUSLIMS" and think that we are digesting truths that make us justified in categorizing and classifying. If that book would have been titled, "MEGANS" I would have probably stopped the toe head right in his tracks and asked who the author was, and what kind of expertise he thought he had to write a book on me. How accurate was it? And would the audience of that book then have some generalized, concrete opinions on who I was simply because my name is Megan? I'm actually just making a big deal out of nothing but that's what I was thinking about all the way to International Pop Lit this morning........
So as I continued on my brisk morning walk with that giant yellow MUSLIMS tattooed to my memory bank I reflected back on a scene from Stepford Wives where all the women are discussing Christmas decorations but then reassuringly turn to Bette Midler and say,"Don't worry Bobby, we brought some Hanukkah suggestions just for you!" She sarcastically replies with, "Oh that sounds lovely. Maybe I can take some pinecones and spell out BIG JEW across my front lawn!" Labels can be so humorous and misleading. Nevertheless we read books with titles like "MUSLIMS" and think that we are digesting truths that make us justified in categorizing and classifying. If that book would have been titled, "MEGANS" I would have probably stopped the toe head right in his tracks and asked who the author was, and what kind of expertise he thought he had to write a book on me. How accurate was it? And would the audience of that book then have some generalized, concrete opinions on who I was simply because my name is Megan? I'm actually just making a big deal out of nothing but that's what I was thinking about all the way to International Pop Lit this morning........
Great first post, Megs. I really liked it, and I agree with you about the MUSLIMS thing. And I love the comparison you made with your own name.
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