What Prejudice Looks Like in a Developing Nation

I have always felt a little guilty being an American living abroad; guilty for my country’s prominence and its extravagant and, let’s face it, self-indulgent lifestyle. America is the kind of country you invite to a party because you feel obliged to even though you don’t want to, and when it gets there it thinks it’s the reason for the party.

So I’m sometimes embarrassed by my county’s image abroad. I especially feel bad when Arabs I meet in the Middle East say they feel they’re treated as second-class citizens in the U.S. That there is a general feeling they’re unwanted and they’re singled out for special scrutiny and are often hassled unnecessarily.

Then I attended a conference in the United Arab Emirates with a group of colleagues.

I slept for most of the short flight, arriving in Abu Dhabi just after eleven thirty at night. We were all tired from a long day as we made our way to the immigration counter to wait in line, passports in hand.

“No worries for you Brother,” Ligaya said, pointing to my arm, “your color will have no problems.”

Pointing out someone’s skin color feels weird, and unseemly, especially in the context of privilege or unequal treatment. I hadn’t thought about it to that point but as others in our group chuckled and nodded their heads in agreement it occurred to me I was the only white person.

I was traveling with three Filipinos, two Singaporeans, and an Indian.

I dismissed Ligaya’s comment, preferring to believe the world more enlightened today then it’s been in times past and that we would all receive the same treatment at the immigration counter. I thought about it again later as I waited for them in the baggage claim area.

I watched as they were delayed, questioned, hassled and harassed for the next half hour.

This was apparently not unusual and they took it all in stride, smiling and waving at me from across the bureaucratic divide. I watched as they walked back and forth between the visa counter and the immigration line obediently licking dust.

The airport was modern but plain, tidy but not clean; stark newness without elegance.

Before they were done everyone else on our flight, and several flights which landed after ours, had proceeded through baggage claim and left me sitting alone under lights which were too white. I silently watched the luggage belt slowly displaying its lonely cargo, the forgotten remnants of hurried travelers.

Perhaps it is the introspection of too little sleep but it occurred to me how exhausting life can be.

My mind tried to visualize the world outside the airport though it seemed I was feeling a gorilla’s face in the dark. I tried to imagine something I had never seen or felt before and wondered what the country would be like. My hands tingled with the fear and excitement of the unknown.

I shouldn’t have worried, as with most things in life reality was not as exciting or scary as I imagined.

When we walked out of the airport into the warmth of the Emirati night it turned to be the same as every other Middle Eastern country. But why wouldn’t it? It’s like flying from St. Louis to Kansas City and expecting the culture, customs and architecture to be different.

The world around us never changes as much as the world within us.

Failure is Success

Why is it that answers can seem intuitively right yet upon closer inspection seem misguided?

We all know that success is good and failure is bad. Even a child will tell you so. But if we look at the statement closer it becomes clear we need to define what we mean by “success” and “good”, “failure” and “bad”.

If success is getting what we wanted we again have to ask, is it the result we wanted or the experience? Most of us recognize the importance of the experience even if the outcome was not what we wanted.

I have often had the experience of reviewing a test and looking up all my incorrect answers. Years later the questions I got wrong are the only ones I can still remember the correct answers to.

We likewise learn when we miss the ball or say our lines incorrectly. These are opportunities to learn and progress and often the most productive opportunities.

But if we define success not as the outcome but as experiencing the journey we can never fail to succeed. Regardless of the outcome we will always have experienced something.

So we can never “fail” if by failing we mean not experiencing anything. Still, we all know there is failure so this doesn’t make any sense. Maybe failure is okay if it leads us to improve ourselves so that we experience success in the future.

This definition, however, devalues failure and only recognizes positive outcomes as having merit. Realistically we can expect most of our efforts to end in failure. Why not recognize them all as successes, albeit successes with divergent outcomes?

I think the biggest objection to this view is moral hazard. If we allow people to think of any outcome as success, how will we motivate people to strive?

The answer is self-analysis. Each person can determine whether the outcome achieved was the outcome desired and make adjustments, all the while recognizing each attempt as a positive learning experience.

And yet, amazingly, I still crave success and cringe at failure.

Getting Started

I don’t expect this blog to be a success, my efforts generally end in failure. However, I believe strongly in everyone's ability to learn and change and grow so I view this blog as a learning experience. For me, and hopefully for you.