Ignorance Doesn't Change the World

Wasn’t it easier in the lunchbox days?

Always a bigger bed to crawl into?

Wasn’t it beautiful when you believed in everything?

Everybody believed in you?

‘Innocent’ – Taylor Swift

Sometimes,

I wish that I could go

Back to the days

When

My biggest decision

Was who to invite to my birthday party

Or which OPI Nail Lacquer to buy

And

My biggest prayer request

Was that I would 

“Do well” in my exam or presentation.

When

My biggest problem

Was an unfair teacher

Or conflicting social events.

When

My biggest worry

Was that I wouldn’t get a date to the prom

Or be accepted to a good college

And

My biggest spiritual hurdle

Was how to “Be a witness”

To my friends who

(gasp)

swore.

The days

When

I could buy a product without

Wondering

About the the people who made it

(fair trade)

(sweat shops)

(chemical exposure)

(child labour)

(conflict minerals)

And therefore become

Conflicted

Myself.

The days

When

Having a crush on a boy

Meant I never had to

Actually

Talk to him.

The days

Before I started thinking critically.

The days

Before I left my “bubble.”

The days
Before I learned
That believing in God
Can be hard sometimes.
Before I wondered
What Jesus really meant
When He said,
"Follow Me."

The days

Before I watched the news.

Before I interacted with the oppressed.

Before I saw people’s spiritual wounds.

Before I experienced a world of unnecessary suffering.

Before I knew heartbreak.

Before I recognized my privilege.

Before I asked questions.

Things were easier in the lunchbox days.

These days are hard,

And sometimes they hurt.

But I believe they are worth it.

I guess it's true what they say,

That

Ignorance is bliss.

But ignorance doesn’t

Change the world.


And it won't change me, either.

Wait - Jen is White?

As established yesterday, I have been here for 2 weeks now.  (Well, 16 days if you are my immigration officer).

Today at lunch, Divya commented on how weird it was having this white American girl in front of her eating rice with her hands.  Suma turned and goes, "Ok, so today for the first time, I have realized that you are white."

Divya looked up in mock shock:  "Wait - Jen is white?"

I said, "Suma.  I have been here 2 weeks.  You just realized this?"
Suma explained that she has recognized that people look at us when we were out, but all this time she has been wondering why.  And why it seemed to be a different kind of look.  Today, it clicked.  "They look at you, and then they look at me.  It is like they are amazed to be seeing a foreigner, and then wondering what I am doing with you.  It isn't just a glance - it is a different kind of look."

This was interesting, as clearly it's something that I realize (and am accustomed to) everywhere I go.  It is less this time around, and I think that can be accounted for by an increasing number of expatriates here in Bangalore.  But yes, I am still stared at.  I was wondering if they ever felt strange being with me, or realized if we are treated differently, but wanted to wait until they said something.

As we walked back to work, we passed through a large group of women heading the opposite direction. We were all acutely aware of their looks, the giggles.  "Why does it matter?  You're just white."

"Jen, I am going to make you a T-shirt" said Divya.  It will say, "I have white skin, and I have blonde hair.  But otherwise I am just like you."