I had the most interesting experience on the London tube this evening. I hopped on at Russell Square on my way back to my friend’s place in Clapham Common. It was about 9:45pm, and I was alone.
I generally feel an aura of safety around me when I travel solo but sometimes the London underground can set me off a bit – I’ve seen some strange things down there. So I was alert.
I got down to the platform and noticed ahead of me were a set of long legs marching along. The legs were wearing jet black pointy heeled boots that went ¾ up the thighs, The upper thighs were bare, up until the cameo patterned skin tight booty shorts, barely covering this person’s buttocks. I couldn’t make out the rest of the outfit since the person was half way up the stairs already. Needless to say, I was automatically thinking “street worker? stripper?”, and slowed my pace just a bit.
But then I caught a glimpse of this person...not a young woman at all! In fact, not even a woman! It was a balding, grey haired old man.
Very odd I thought.
I got on the train and took a spot standing in the middle of the car. When I looked over, I caught a glimpse of this man, standing only a few feet away from me. His belly was entirely bare and hanging out, he had a matching cameo-patterned cropped top, and a black leather collar around his neck. No one was standing near him.
I thought, this is really strange. What’s his story?
Then I looked at his face. And I kid you not, what I saw moved me. He had the face of an angel. He looked deeply serene, so content, and so unmoved by all the stares, whispers, and snickers around him.
My gaze was glued to this interesting man. He must have been nearly 70, but his face didn’t show it. His skin glowed. His eyes were a clear blue.
I became intensely curious. I wanted to know more about him. I wanted to prove to people around him that he was the angel that I saw, despite his unsual appearance. I didn’t have the guts to strike up a conversation and ask about his clothes, but I did have the courage to move closer and ask him if he wanted to take a seat that had just become available.
And in the most beautiful British accent he said to me, “No, you go ahead dear”. And so I sat directly in front of him and smiled. He smiled back. He continued to stand there unmoved by the stupid circus of judgmental onlookers surrounding him.
I spent the next 2 minutes or so looking around, feeling my heart ache as I saw two young Japanese girls looking and laughing at him. And a young couple gazing over and then back at each other, snickering together. And two complete strangers who both noticed this man and at the same time looked at each other and found comfort in the difference they saw in him but not in themselves.
I thought to myself - how dare they! None of these people know what’s going on in his head or life. And they don’t even have the courage to find out. They just find solace in snickering and assuming that he’s a complete weirdo and they are not.
Had he been harmful, then that would be a different story. But he was minding his own business, and what’s more, he had the will to be different. He had the courage to bust people’s perceptions of what’s normal and acceptable.
At the next stop, the man got off. As he walked out the door, he said, in his lovely well-mannered British accent “Pardon me, please”, and kindly slipped by and was gone. I couldn’t help but notice on his way out, what he was carrying over his shoulder. It was a black book bag and written on it was something like “Management Conference Association”.
That just did it for me! I bet not one other person on the train even noticed that. Instead, as soon as he left, it was like a giant secret bubble had been popped and a huge sigh of relief and laughter followed.
Nothing had to be said because it was obvious what they were all thinking. “Thank God he’s gone. What a weirdo. That was soooo bizarre.”
I was nearly brought to tears. I imagined all the other people in the world that have to face this sort of ridicule and speculation on a daily basis just because we are a culture afraid of difference.
Well what the hell are we afraid of? Why can’t a man wear high heels and a black collar and spandex shorts if he wants to? It doesn’t mean he isn’t well mannered and a gentle soul. Maybe he wears a business suit by day and wants to make a point with this alternative outfit at night. Who knows? Who cares.
In any case, I got back to my friend’s place (a fellow anthropologist) and we talked about the sadness in the world when “difference” is such a scary thing for most people. And how Lady Gaga can wear a meat dress for God’s sake but people still feel they have the right to laugh at an ordinary person who they know nothing about.
So I ask everyone who reads this, next time you find yourself being entertained at the expense of another person, ask yourself “what is really so funny?” and then get curious about what that person’s story could be. It may surprise you.
