In the rough and tumble of Oakland, CA, a place where violence can take hold-an elderly Sikh couple walk around my local park and use the free city shuttle almost every morning. They don’t talk to each other, they seem more intent on walking. Based on their simple clothing, the twists of his white cotton turban and the muted caramel brown salwar kameez worn by the woman, I would guess they have not been in the US for long. Their shoes give it away. Black, flat sandals with thick rubber treads, worn-in but built to last. These are not from Target or Macy’s, I have seen them in the Bazaars of Punjab.
These two, walk in peace, use the park and transportation available for all. Watching them gives me some comfort. I feel proud for them. The elderly man, has a somewhat messy white beard, with the crooked gait of old age. His wife drapes her soft chunni properly, never pausing to adjust. I want to stop and hug them. But all I do is amble behind, with a watchful eye, waiting to watch them safely step on board. They know what they are doing and always seem safe. The world is alright.
So today, hearing about the hate crime against Piara Singh an elderly Sikh who was brutally beaten in Fresno, CA makes me want to go on high watch. I want to be in the park first thing in the morning to make sure my secretly adopted PapaJi and BeJi can walk safely as they have been. I would hide away, to shield them from my emanating fear. Maybe their children have warned them to stay home. I hope not, I need to see their Sikh spirit, their courageous bravery rise to the occasion. Their morning constitutional in a busy city park, sitting on public transportation a silent protest against hatred and ignorance.
These are grandparents, walking outside temples, finding refuge in a world that can be isolating, they seek to connect to their religion and culture. This recent hate crime, and all others that are directed at Sikhs, prove we have much further to go in this country to create unity and to accept that the “other” is a neighbor, friend, coworker and classmate. A turban is a symbol of devotion to a spiritual and cultural identity, that of a Punjabi Sikh. This outward difference is where it ends, our souls, hearts and connection to community and family translate similarly between all citizens. But in this world we don’t foster this idea very broadly. The media thrives on alienation and propaganda and their thirst for an enemy simply creates more innocent victims.
My prayer tonight is that we strive to find connections in the sameness of our internal selves, to look past visual and cultural differences and bond over what we all have in common. Blood and bones, light and dark. The outward vessel is just marker, a slight variation that uses a tiny fraction of DNA.
I will always keep an eye out. But I pay special attention to Sikhs, especially the elderly, who should be respected as our most tangible connection to the past.
My heart goes out to all affected by hate. I suppose we all share this in common.
I invite you to learn more about Sikhs please visit www.saldef.org/learn-about-sikhs/
Then learn more about everyone.