There is power in nothingness. That concept had a place in my brain before I could realize it’s value or articulate its meaning.
I am a Zumba Instructor. I never talk about it, because it’s something that is such a part of me, I see it as something I just do. Through the years, I’ve moved and simply found another place to teach. I recently hurt my shoulder, and continued to teach with my arm in a sling. I can’t sleep at night unless I practice three songs before bed. I feel stress about the classes I’ll miss when going on vacation. In class, I’m a complete fish in water. I love it and I’m confident to say that I feel loved and appreciated by my students as well. Which is why this particular incident caught me completely by surprise.
It was a Wednesday after class, I had finished teaching and was standing by the sound system putting my things away. A man who had occasionally been to my class with his wife walks up to me. In the past month or so they had become friendly, dancing in the front, staying behind to make small talk, one time bringing me oranges from their tree. It is common for students to show their appreciation in this way. Zumba being such a conglomerate of ethnicities and ages, I’m always pleasantly surprised with the things I receive. This day his demeaner was different, he was shaking a bit, his eyes open wide. “My wife looked through your Instagram and noticed you follow two people who support Palestine.” Did he mean I followed people of Palestinian decent, and that I shouldn’t? Did he assume ……. Literally what did he assume? His wife looked at my Instagram, went on to see who I followed and noticed two names she did not approve of, and decided to be bothered. it was completely unexpected to hear in any circumstance, but especially in my space. In my class, a place where the usual feeling is upliftment and happiness, where I am at ease and in control. It’s as if he had walked into my home and decided to dictate his unsolicited opinion. He proceeded to say something to the extent of, “For that reason we will no longer be coming to your class, and any friendship from us is over!”! This, coming from someone who I hardly knew and frankly cared nothing about. I was very calm, knowing that any reaction from me would give him a satisfaction he did not deserve. My lack of response to his words made him shake more and turn red.
In my mind I’m thinking; “It’s my Children, my Children are who he is talking about. He doesn’t know this, but they are who he is talking about. I immediately became protective of my kids, putting an imaginary barrier between them and this man with a red face and bulging eyes, who felt that approaching me like this was warranted.
I have four children who are proud of their heritage. I know that at least one of them has a Palestinian flag and a Mexican flag as her Instagram handle.
Time seemed to stand still, it felt like he had been in front of me forever and would not leave, although I know the whole encounter couldn’t have been more than 5 minutes. Since I didn’t seem concerned by his anger or his threat of removing his friendship, his eyes Bulges wider.
I was grateful for the surveillance cameras in the fitness room. The more I processed it, the more unbelievable it seemed. If he was capable of approaching me with this, he was capable of more. Just as quickly as I had that thought, I almost laughed, because I follow more than two people who are Palestinian. It would have been funny to tell him that, but I’m glad I didn’t. I knew he wanted to make me upset, or he wanted a fight, he wanted something and I gave nothing. I simply said, “You are free to feel any way you want.” and continued to gather my things. I was not going to leave before he did, this was my space, and he would have to leave first. A few more seconds of his now blood shot eyes piercing at me, and he turned around and left.
The father of my children is Palestinian. When I met him, I did not see Origin or Race. He was athletic, did not drink alcohol or smoke. His work allowed him to support himself in the United States and pay for his younger brother to attend college in Kuwait. He often spoke about his parents and siblings, whom he loved very much. We were married for 17 years and had four children. Since then, I have met many Palestinians, among them, one of my best friends. Countless times I was invited to dinners where I was the only person who was not Middle Eastern. I was graciously invited to sit with the women, who would smile at me warmly, admire my hair or touch my face. “Mashallah “, was a word I heard often, it is used to show appreciation, or praise towards another person. After hearing it a few times, I settled into knowing that it was a Compliment.
Apparently, there are people who allow themselves to become enraged, almost sick, forming conclusions driven by a preexisting desire to dislike anyone who appears to challenge their ideology.
I did not enjoy being on the receiving end of his tantrum. If I give it too much thought, I get a gross feeling and automatically wrinkle my nose, as if trying to keep it at bay. To disparage an entire ethnic group as if they were not individuals and Human Beings, says a lot about him and his wife.
My mind goes back to a couple of weeks prior.
I contemplated a thought I was toying with, where I was so satisfied and happy with my life, I wondered, how can I make it even better? A voice inside me said; “focus on all the good and eliminate anything or anyone that is not serving you”.
I know this was the Universe responding to my desire.
As for them, they now miss out on a fabulous Zumba class.
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