Be the change you want in the world!

02/25/17 @ 10:53 AM

Bismi Allah Arrahman Arraheem.

David (I learned his name when I stopped by the gas station the next day) was working in the back of the shop. He had in his hands a blower of some sort, like a leaf blower. He continued doing whatever he was doing for few more minutes after he glanced in my direction and saw my car. He came around and went straight to the gas tank and without a word removed the cap, put the gas hose in and started pumping. By that time a maroon SUV pulled up behind me. I saw David go to the driver’s window, get the woman’s card, process it, remove the cap from her gas tank, put the hose in, and begin pumping the gas. A large white vehicle pulled up behind the maroon SUV. I could not identify the make or model of the vehicle. All I paid attention to was the gas attendant conversing with the driver of the third vehicle that pulled into the gas station. I heard the click indicating that my gas tank was full. The attendant continued talking to the driver in the white vehicle. I heard the second click, indicating that the maroon SUV’s gas tank was full. The attendant walked toward the maroon SUV pulled out the hose, replaced it on the pump, tightened the cap, and handed the driver her receipt. She couldn’t go anywhere, as there was no room for her to maneuver her way out of the gas station while I was still there. The attendant went back to his conversation with the driver of the white vehicle. By then I was fuming. I thought about getting out of my car, pulling the gas hose out of my gas tank, and driving off. As good as it sounded in my head, however, I knew I couldn’t do that. This was an agency car, and the agency has an account with this gas station to service all the agency’s cars in this county.
When David finally pulled the hose, replaced the cap, and handed me the invoice to sign, I said, trying my utmost best not to get angry, “I do not appreciate the fact that you took your time to come around from the back after you got done with whatever you were doing. Then, you finished servicing the car that came in after me when I was done first. Then, you went back to converse while I waited.” By the time I finished my sentence my tone of voice had escalated much higher than I wanted. He stood there not saying a word, just watching me give that tirade while signing the invoice. He took the invoice pad from my hand, and said: “If you guys don’t like it, get your gas from a different gas station.” He walked away toward the white vehicle without giving me a copy of the invoice. I yelled “My receipt!” He said “What?” I yelled louder “Where is the copy of my receipt?” as I was getting out of the car. I walked to the pump on top of which I saw the blue plastic pad that holds invoices. I grabbed it. The invoice wasn’t on it. I yelled, “Where is my receipt?” He replied “Hang on! Give me a sec. I’ll get it for you.” I returned to my car and waited. When he handed me the copy of my invoice, I said: “I don’t think the owner of the gas station would like to lose this account.” And I drove off enraged, visualizing David getting fired after my supervisor talked to the owner about the attendant’s treatment of one of the agency’s employees, and threatening to terminate the account due to extremely poor, and possibly racism-driven, customer service. I had to take repeated deep diaphragmatic breaths to calm myself along the one and one-half hour commute home.
I do not remember at what point my thoughts shifted and I asked myself “Who really wins after this is all said and done and the attendant gets fired? What do I win? What would be different in the world if I reacted in a retaliatory manner? How will I be different from all those who react in tit-for-tat fashion as is taking place in this heated climate of political unrest where issues of race, ethnicity, and religion are dividing this country and the world?
I decided I was going to act differently.
I played with the thought in my head of whether to tell my supervisor tomorrow at my 11 O’clock supervision meeting, or talk to David first and tell my supervisor only if David turns out to be the racist I assumed him to be.
My pride got the best of me. During my supervision meeting, I narrated what took place at the gas station the previous day. My reasoning at that moment was that if David is, in fact, a racist and a bully, then his behavior needs to have consequences, and I don’t have to just lie back and take it. Yes! I am a pacifist, but I am not quite at the point of literally turning the other cheek. So I thought if things go from bad to worse, my supervisor can do what is necessary to avenge my dignity and seek punishment of the perpetrator. I could, with relief, see the surprise, indignation, chagrin, and empathy in my supervisor’s facial expression as I narrated the event. He asked if I knew the name of the attendant. I replied in the negative and added that he was the only one working that shift.
I shared with my supervisor my intent to try to solve this conflict with the gas attendant in a calm, peaceful, effective, and constructive manner, and asked if he could take the appropriate measures only if things go from bad to worse after my attempt at a peaceful resolution. My supervisor agreed, commended my desire to seek to make this unfortunate event an opportunity for dialogue understanding, and peaceful conflict resolution. He also told me to let him know the outcome so that he could address the situation if necessary. He added, “Such behavior is unacceptable, and that gas station is not the only one in town.”
After work, I stopped at the gas station. I did not see the attendant I had the altercation with the day before. I saw the older, nicer attendant who had assisted me several times in the past. He was busy taking care of a customer. Standing next to him was a tall young man. Because of his demeanor, and his seeming familiarity with the place, I surmised that the tall young man either knew the staff or might be one of the attendants on a different shift. I asked him if the attendant who was working yesterday around 5:30 PM was around. He pointed to the mechanic workshop part of the gas station and said “Yes, he is right there, behind that door.
I walked through the door. My foe was standing at a counter upon which were scattered several car repair tools. He said “Can I help you?” without stopping what he was doing. He crawled under the partially lifted car he was working on.
I said “I want to talk about yesterday. Do have a few minutes?” He replied, “Sure, let me just get this…” I couldn’t make out the last words of his sentence. I was nervous. I started walking nonchalantly around the shop wondering how this interaction was going to ensue. He crawled out from under the car a couple of minutes later and said, inquisitively, “Yes?”
I repeated “I want to talk about yesterday. First, I want to apologize for yelling. However, I want you to know that I was really hurt by your treatment. I know you saw me when I pulled in, then you continued doing whatever you were doing…” I repeated word for word what I narrated it above in a previous paragraph, and added. “I felt that you treated me that way because I am wearing the veil.”
He said “What? No! not at all. That didn’t even cross my mind. I don’t care about the veil. I apologize. I am sorry you felt that way. The individual in the white vehicle asked me a question and I was just giving him directions, or whatever. I pulled the hose out of the SUV and gave her the receipt because it was car closest to me. I was the only one working here yesterday because my buddy there was sick. I was overwhelmed. Pumping gas isn’t even my job. This is my job—as he pointed to the car on which he was working. I was cleaning the shop when you pulled up. I saw the car. I didn’t mean to make you wait, I just wanted to finish what I was doing quickly before I went to the pump. I had to do this, that, and the other. It was nothing personal. It had nothing to do with the veil. I apologize.” I could see that he was sincere, and I said: “I am glad I decided to come by and have this conversation.” That’s when I noticed the embroidered name David on his sweatshirt. I said “My name is ‘Najat. Is your name David?” He said “Yes! I am also glad you came back today.” I felt a heavy weight and a burning sensation lift from my chest.
That burning sensation has started at about 5:35 p.m. yesterday, and increased in heat and intensity with thoughts such as “Who does he think he is? Lowly little ignorant red neck, racist so and so. I am much more than he’ll ever be. I am educated. I have a master’s degree, while he is nothing but a loser. He dares to treat me this way. He will see. He’d better learn his lesson when he gets fired. A furtive feeling of mixed glee, relief, and empowerment would wash over me at the thought of him being punished and fired. And me vindicated.
I am very grateful to God for enabling me to fight those thoughts and asserting my higher self. I am grateful for the ability to reason and to realize that most of the world is currently in chaos, exactly, because of our initial impulse to react from our reptilian brain, the part of us wired for self-protection from real or imaged danger or threats, and seek revenge and retaliation. I am grateful for Free Will, the option to choose how to react, and for the wisdom to realize that animosity does not serve to make the world a better place for anyone.
I felt that if I had acted wisely from a win-win perspective, and with the goal of healing, not adding fuel to the fire, I had a better chance at changing the attendant’s heart and mind, by allowing him to realize that he is wrong in his assumption that all Muslims are bad, terrorist, or that they deserve to be treated with disrespect and humiliation.
In the end, it turned out that during that emotionally charged and heated interaction the day before, each of us was reacting to a totally wrong interpretation of the other’s behavior. Today, dialogue and communication shed light on the shadowed and gray area where the devil likes to play at pitting people against each other by making them believe that others are out to get them.
This example is to illustrate how Satan works, unnoticed, using our lower self, our reptilian brain, the seat of our instinct of self-preservation; to compromise the part of us that is made in the image of God, the part that is love, forgiveness, and compassion. Unless we assert our God-given free will to make a choice between the impulsive reactionary behavior, and the conscious desire to act in accordance with God’s command to the benefit of our own soul and salvation, we lose.