Obsevation Journal #3

The event described in this entry dates back quite a while, the frist semester of last year, actually. Nonetheless, it shocked me and made me observe the world around me, and Burlington especially, in a different light. I've noticed that many people hold stereotypes about this community, that it is so peaceful, that it's a hippie commune, that there is much room for growth, expression, and creativity. These factors are all true but it is also a place riddled with drugs, poverty, and discrimination, as most cities in the United States are. The point is Burlington is not the magical fantasy land that college students in particular preconceive it ito be. Case example: I walked into the Mobil on South Winooski Street with my friend, my body in desparate need of one of those 99 cent Arizona's that come in a tall can. We make our way to the register, where there are two people in front of us. From the catacombs of the store, a decrepit, haggard man cuts my friend and I in line. I didn't pay much mind to this because the guy looked like his life was had been going in a bad direction for many years. In any case, he gets to the cashier and speaks in a voice that is comparable to a drunk Cookie Monster. The cashier, who is Asian, asks him to repeat himself, a reasonable request because I had no idea what he was saying. Though she had a thick accent, I could clearly tell what the cashier was saying; I had no trouble understanding her. The man, on the other hand, repeats himself in his beastly voice and it is still unclear what he was saying. After about another thrity seconds of mumbling and grunting what he wants but not getting his message across, the bum (I will call him a bum because if you saw him, you would draw the same conclusion) the man says something that thunderously resonated throughtout the store: "Why don't you learn to speak English?" "The people who speak the best English are born in this country." "You need to go back to your country." I was utterly mystified by this display of racial aggression but one customer threatened to knock the dude out, prompting the bum's exodus from Mobil, his prized cigarettes finally in hand. The other coustomers and I looked at each other, horrified and muttering our anger at the scene which unfolded before our eyes. I look back now, a year later, and I wonder why I didn't say something. Obviously the guy was homeless, probably frustrated with his life, and decided to take his anger out on an easy target. While trying to figure out what the guy wanted, I could see the cashier getting increasingly nervous, attempting to avoid an unavoidable conflict. Though I made a conscious effort to speak up next time I witnessed such an atrocious outburst, I have yet to see the level of racial hatred I saw that day. I don't beleive the man hated Asian people in particular, but it could be that he was xenophobe and was mad at the fact that this lady, who is not white, acquired a job and he was left to wander the streets in his moderate insanity. The event made me relaize two things. Burlington is not the quaint, loving community that most expct it is. I also realized that poverty can perpetuate other situations of injustice, in the case, gas station racism.