Before I knew it, I noticed that I wasn’t the only one singing along to the tune. There were two other women also singing along, both of them wearing hijabs. To some of you, this would not have been a big deal – but I must confess, I was somewhat intimidated. I am not only a Jew, but a first-generation Israeli-American who has many relatives that live in Israel – a nation that I have lots of memories associating Islam with acts of hostility toward. And since I have many relatives that live in Israel, and also am the grandchild of the generation of Jews who survived the Holocaust, I consider Israel important – definitely not beyond criticism, but a place whose continued existence as a Jewish State is important to me.
True, not all Muslims are hostile to Israel – but that fact registers in the rational part of the brain, which is unfortunately not the first part of the brain that responds in any given situation.
Now, some of you may already have written me off as a terrible, diabolical Islamophobe. Those of you may not care what I did or didn’t do with this discomfort, or in general what actions I did or didn’t take. Just the fact that I at any point felt any discomfort whatsoever with the fact that I found myself singing along with Muslim women is enough for those of you to write me off as a horrible bigot.
But for the rest of you – those who at least will give me the chance to defend myself, know that immediately, as soon as I noticed this discomfort, I felt bad for having felt it. This song was about getting along with people, presumably with a special focus on those whom the listener’s historical default would predispose them to be less-than-conciliatory toward. Its very theme is all about making a conscious choice to love rather than to give in to fear. When presented with someone who sees eye to eye with me on all issues and who doesn’t stand on the other side from me on any tribalistic or clan-based rivalry, it is a piece of cake to feel comradery with that person. That doesn’t count as me rising to any special challenge that the song’s lyrics pose.
These Muslim women, on the other hand, were another story entirely. Finding myself singing along them was very much a test of how well I could rise to the song’s challenge – and here I was, failing miserably by feeling any discomfort, any awkwardness in the situation.
But then I realized – my initial reaction of discomfort, be it right or wrong, be it fair or unfair toward these women, was simply a product of my conditioning. It was what I would do about it that could properly be seen as an act of choice. It was then that I realized – I couldn’t will myself to be comfortable around Muslims, but I could will myself to respect the fact that their basic rights as human beings must not be contingent on my level of comfort with them. And I couldn’t will myself to be comfortable with the fact that I had found myself singing alongside two Muslim women, but what I very much could will myself to do was to continue singing, which I did.
To some extent, I didn’t realize anything factually new. I mentioned that this was in 2016, and I had already heard Trump’s calls for a ban on Muslim immigration. I had already come to the conclusion (and had done so very easily) that it would be insane to support such a measure, as doing so would undermine the integrity of certain First Amendment provisions without which there would be a lot of people other than Muslims who would need to fear for their safety. However, this experience in the grocery store brought what I already knew into sharper focus.
This realization is in sharp contrast to the attitude that many on the left have, in which tolerance is seen as a weak bare-minimum that people do in order to avoid extending higher degrees of acceptance to people different from themselves. Some even see it as a terrible way of not outright persecuting people, but denying them the rights that others have, rights that they should get to enjoy as well.
As for treating people in a despicable manner yet calling yourself “tolerant” just because you allow them to live – that isn’t really tolerance. But even when someone is truly being tolerant, not mistreating anyone for being different, but just disliking them, or feeling uncomfortable around them – some people see even that as a cop-out from higher orders of acceptance.
But this attitude is unfair and unhelpful. Tolerance may not be the highest form of acceptance that one should aspire to extend – but it is the highest form of acceptance that you can make yourself extend by force of your will. Higher levels of acceptance may come over time, but you can’t force it out of yourself. You can’t make yourself feel at ease with those who are different or to like them – but you can will yourself to refrain from mistreating them from being different.
Oh, but would I be willing to hold to this principle when I am the one whom others are uncomfortable with? As a trans-woman who grew up and spent my young adulthood in East Tennessee, I can say most definitively – yes. Every day, there were people who were uncomfortable with me using the same restroom facilities as any other woman. Do I fault them for having been uncomfortable with this?
Well, I shouldn’t. If someone is uncomfortable, that is something to pity them for, not to condemn them for. But furthermore, it wasn’t their discomfort with my use of common restroom facilities that made my life difficult. It only hampered me when it was asked (or even required) that I curtail my ability to pee in a dignified, safe, and self-affirming manner to accommodate their discomfort. And it was that that would cause me to go from feeling sorry for them to seeing them as my enemies. And the same can be said for any other discomfort anybody might have around trans-women. They can’t help feeling that discomfort – but they have no right to mistreat trans-women because they’re uncomfortable.
Greater appreciation and comfort around trans-women may come as they learn more about trans reality and are knowingly around trans-women and see that the apocalyptic things that they are afraid of never happen – however, that is not something that they can force themselves to extend. All they can force themselves to do is to respect trans-women as members of society that have as much right to exist in a dignified manner as anyone else.
Back to my discomfort with Muslims – I don’t know if I am one-hundred-percent comfortable around Muslims, but I am definitely nowhere near as uncomfortable as I was at the time that this incident at the grocery store’s grand opening occurred. But this is not something that could be forced. It could only come with time.
All that I could wilfully do at the time was realize that their basic rights must not depend on my level of comfort with them.
