Preconceived Notions

A few weeks ago I
was dropping the boys off at daycare.
There were all these Longmeadow-types there with "United Way Volunteer Day" t-shirts. They were brazen-faced in their good will, charity for the poor kids of Springfield attitudes. They parked their Lexus SUVs in a little line, all in a row like JP's matchboxes. Blond bobs, perfectly coiffed brunettes. Nails done in tasteful French manicures. Brand new Nike sneakers and creased denim, no doubt purchased for their trip to the other side of the tracks.

I parked my van and walked up to the door while holding two little hands, a bag of diapers and changes of clothes dangling from my elbow. In a Price-Rite bag, no less. Keys looped over a finger. Glasses slipping down my nose. Seth was pulling one way, JP the other.

"Oh, look Buffy! Are they twins?!" Blond Bob joyously asked.

I look up to see the I'M HERE TO HELP YOU POOR SLOBS t-shirt. Ugh.

"Yes. Hi." My reply was polite but crisp.

I begin to notice that BB has friends everywhere. She's no doubt the coordinator, she is holding a clipboard with a shiny PhD pen attached to it. I have the same stupid pen, same color and everything.

"We're from the United Way and we'll be spending the day here reading to the kids, cleaning, doing some painting and playing with the kids." BB is so fucking proud of herself. I could puke.

Now, there are a lot of things I wished I had said. Maybe, "Oh thank God, because I hate reading to my kids." Or, "You can read!?"

"Oh, that's very nice of you." God, I wanted to say "white" instead of "nice".

I brushed past them thanking the Lord above I had dressed up for work that day. I was wearing my best/most favorite shoes and new pants.

Freaking volunteers were everywhere, smiling at me like I was a specimen they had read about. Another mom was coming up behind me, her fake grin matched mine. I gave her the universal eyebrow handshake. She shrugs it off... like its just what happens in life. I could almost hear the, "Girl, let it go. These bitches are nothing to worry about."

No one else seemed to care. I was stunned. Where was the indignation? We were being pigeon-holed! On my drive to work I really thought about my visceral reaction to BB and her cohorts. What the hell was that about anyhow? What is wrong with people helping out? I mean, isn't that what we're supposed to do? Why did I feel so, so misunderstood? Misrepresented? Judged? Her assumptions leaped out of her eyes and she saw me as something I am NOT.

What am I not? And why am I so sure about her assumptions?

For starters, I'm white too. I know what I saw when I first moved to Springfield. After a while you get past the clothes that look "ghetto-ish." You know, the baggy pants, the too-big t-shirts on the boys and men. The tiny shirts and tight pants on some of the girls/women. But the thing is, none of the parents here dress like that. We're all working parents here. If anything I'm the idiot in bad clothes who needs a manicure. These ladies dress. And the kids are always clean, wearing the nicest clothes and whitest sneakers I've ever seen. Honestly, do they wash the sneakers every night? Its amazing.

I felt like I had some secret bond to these families and that this white bitch needed to take a ride and get the hell out. "Don't judge us! Get back to your 5,000 square feet and nannies."

Another thing was that she assumed that I was:

a. Living in a hovel
b. uneducated
c. ignorant.
d. that I was somehow not a good mother.

I hated that I was going to a place/dropping my kids off at a place that the public would have on their list of places that needs volunteers.

When I really get down to it, I'm struck dumb with this thought...

Who the hell am I to judge her? How do I know that she doesn't live two streets down from me? How do I know anything about her? What does it say about me that I'm so quick to judge someone just because they're white?

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