Disarmament

Posted under General Musings by khaalidah

Word:

disarmament

Definition:

1. The act of laying down arms, especially the reduction or abolition of a nation’s military forces and armaments.

2. The condition of being disarmed.

Used in context:

When the dark skinned hijabi entered into the room, the older Caucasian woman whispered under her breath to her companion, “Another one of those Arab Islamists.  That’s why I voted for Bush the second time.”  Her companion nodded in agreement.

The same dark skinned hijabi then introduced herself as the nurse would would be taking the Caucasian woman’s vital signs that day.  She smiled and joked with the Caucasian woman, who thought to herself that while she liked the dark skinned hijabi, and was extremely impressed with her flawless, accentless English, the fact was, she could never trust a Muslim.  Certainly as a foreigner, the dark skinned hijabi could not ever have the depth of patriotism for this great country that I do.  After ten minutes together, she felt enough at ease to say, “Can I ask you a personal question?”

The dark skinned hijabi shone a knowing smile at her older Caucasian patient, as she had heard that leading question more times than she could ever count.  She thought to herself, I hope she doesn’t ruin our nice conversation by asking something ugly and unacceptable.  The older Caucasian patient waited patiently and the dark skinned hijabi finally said, “Sure, what would you like to know?”

Suddenly the very bold and outspoken older Caucasian woman shrank shyly in her chair, which made the dark skinned hijabi cringe slightly because this was a sign that the question would be pretty bad.  But the older Caucasian woman plowed ahead, obviously having found her voice again.  “Well, I just wanted to know…. Are you from over there?”

“Over where?”

“You know, where your people come from.”

“Who are my people.”

“I don’t know.  The Arabs and Indians.  The ones that I see on the news.”

The dark skinned hijabi took a moment to reflect on this question.  She knew that the older Caucasian woman meant Muslims.  She did not want to make matters worse, but she certainly didn’t want to make this too easy on her patient.  Finally she responded by saying, “Well, actually I am neither Arab nor Indian.”

“No?”

The dark skinned hijabi shook her head.  “Nope.  I am actually from Maine.”

“Maine?” 

“Yes, that state way up north near the Canadian border.”

“What about your parents?  Are they from over there?”

“My mom is from New York and my dad is from Delaware.”

The older Caucasian woman’s lips parted slightly, but she could not seem to find her words.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”  The dark skinned hijabi decided to turn the tables.

Still a bit stunned the older Caucasian woman nodded slightly.

“Where are you from?”

“Uh, I am from East Texas.”

“And what about your parents?”

After a long silence the older Caucasian woman answered, “My father was from Germany and my mother was from Italy.”

“Wow,” said the dark skinned hijabi, “my people have been here longer than yours.”

DISARMAMENT.

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