I was on my own one night and looking for a place to watch the World Cup, so I went over the Sly Fox – they have a huge television and it’s a nice, comfortable place – great for this kind of event. Argentina was playing England, and I am a big Lionel Messi fan. Next to me were two other people, also by themselves, and we struck up a conversation. One was a man (Mike) from Tulpehocken and the other a woman (Laura) from the Dominican Republic. When Argentina came out, she got a scowl on her face, and I asked why. She didn’t realize that she had such a visceral response, so she explained that she just didn’t like Argentina as a country. She said that she had experienced too many people from there when she lived in the DR, and they were overwhelmingly racist and arrogant. I said, “Well, with that country’s history of welcoming Nazis and Italian Fascists after WWII, that makes sense.” Her response surprised me.
She looked over both shoulders, which seemed like an odd response, and said, “Thank you for saying that – I never know who is listening.” With that, the conversation about Argentina ended, and we talked more about the game. As the tournament went on, there were a number of reports of crowds of Argentinian fans chanting racist phrases, and the behavior of many members of the team when they lost in the final was disgusting. I have seen other reports of this kind of behavior, and while I would never make a blanket judgment about a nation or a people based on such little information, I still think about that woman’s response – she was afraid. Her personal history had scarred her – and she was only in her early 30’s.
It is a reminder that history matters, and that old hatreds never quite end. I have been saying for the last decade that the Civil War never really ended in America – it just went underground and has reemerged with vigor. We have seen some proof of that played out all over this country. The idea that racism ended because Pres. Obama was elected is infantile and wrong; things are better, for sure, but there are still a lot of people living in fear of a resurgence of hate. We see it in the growth of misogyny in politics and animosity against immigrants. We see it in the movement to take marriage rights away from same-sex couples. We cannot take people’s fear away, but we can let them know that they are not alone in their struggle for equality. By just acknowledging the truth of Argentina’s past, I seemed to encourage Laura. It doesn’t take much to let people know that most of us are good, caring people. Say the words – they matter.
Prayer – Merciful God, all of us can speak words of comfort and support. Give us the words if we can’t find them, we pray. Amen.
Today’s art is by Domingo Ulloa, 1957, untitled.