I’m Not a Terrorist, You’re Not a Terrorist

Just a fair warning, this isn’t going to be one of my typical blog posts where I make a bunch of jokes. This post is going to be more serious than normal, and I hate things that get serious, because I just like to laugh and have a good time, you can ask anyone of my ex’s… okay, one joke in here, but that’s it!

So, yesterday, I arrived into Picton, NZ. It is a charming, little town that I arrived to via ferry. (Side note: I definitely suggest taking the ferry if you’re ever going to Wellington from the south island or vice versa. Trust me, it is worth it. 3 hours of ocean beauty, yes please! Just a fair warning: don’t start eating as soon as you get on if you get seasick easily. I’ve heard horror stories). I only stayed the night in Picton, but I didn’t waste any time. As soon as I got settled into my accommodations for the night, I decided to go walk some of the trails there. I was trying to get around and take pictures before the sun went down when, somewhere along the way, I met a really loud Australian man. We talked for just a small bit, and he could tell from my accent that I was not a New Zealander, so he asked me where I was from. I told him, “Kansas.” He said, “A Yankee!? You don’t sound like a freaking Yankee.” In my mind, I was wondering what he thought an American sounded like, because I, personally, don’t think I sound any different from other Americans. I just told him, “I try to blend in.” which is a true statement. He liked that answer, and proceeded to talk to me, which I didn’t much care for due to the fact that he was wasting all the daylight, but he did give me some good advice on sandflies. After our chat that seemed to be too long, he called me a “bloody terrorist” and went on his way.

I was blown away that he would call me that, and it really pissed me off. I assure you, I do not hate this man now (although I can’t say we’re best friends either), nor do I hate his country. I only say that because I feel like there are some people out there who think, “Well, that one person from that one place was mean to me, therefore, all people from that persons country must be mean.”

However, with that being said, it really bothered me that he would call me such a horrible thing, and I feel like you may be thinking, “Oh, spoiled, white kid gets called a terrorist. Boo-freaking-hoo.” But that’s not really the point I’m trying to make, so if you will, please, just stick with me for a little bit on this.

As a gay kid from conservative Kansas, the majority of my day was other people calling me names and making fun of me. And I’m not saying this for sympathy. I grew up, I got over it, I moved away; goodbye, good riddance. I’m saying this to let you know that I’m used to people calling me things, and that I can forgive pretty damn easily. I’m also saying this to emphasize the fact that what he called me really got to me, and here’s why: because I’m not a terrorist. Sounds pretty simple, right? Straightforward, to the point, a little ridiculous, I know. However, one of my biggest gifts I have is the curse of thinking. I think a lot, and my thoughts get to me, and make me see things in a thousand different lights.

What my thoughts led me to was this: that one man called me a terrorist (which to me is the lowest thing a human can be). Although, this did piss me off, what is it like for people who are not terrorists, who get called terrorists regularly? How do they feel? Are they numb to it the way I ended up becoming numb to the homophobia? And have I ever met any of these people before?

Of course, being an American citizen, my mind travels back to the Muslim population in America who get called terrorists daily. Did you know that less than 2% of Muslims are actually terrorists? Did you know that in America, over 90% of terrorist attacks were carried out by people who were NOT Muslims? So why is it that we point the blame at these people? Is it because they’re easy to spot compared to most other American citizens? Could be. Is it because we feel a need to point the blame towards someone, and they’re the obvious minority? It makes sense! But in the end, is it right? Not always; and according to data it normally isn’t the Muslims. I feel so bad that so many of my fellow Americans are hating people for something that is really just in their heads, and not actually 100% true. And I’ve seen videos. Go on YouTube and search anything that has to deal with this topic. ‘Muslim at Trump rally’, ‘Woman attacks Muslim for praying’. It is scary to see how these people are being treated, and how many people think it’s okay. So, to all Muslims that are not terrorists who have been treated poorly by others who think you’re a terrorist, I would just like to say, I am very sorry, and I wish that we lived in a world where everyone could get along and not view other minority groups with such disdain. I can’t speak for every American citizen, but I do believe there are a few out there who think just like me on this topic.

Before I finish, I feel like this photograph is very necessary for this post. This photograph is called ‘Rebellious Silence,’ and it’s by Shirin Neshat. It is from 1994, and I only know about it, because in college I took an art history class, and this photo stuck to me. It jumped out of the page, and I thought it was one of the most mesmerizing photos I had ever seen, and I still do to this day. This is a picture of a Muslim woman who, though she is not covering her face with that little cloth which I think is called a Hijab, (please don’t hate me if that’s not right) she is covering her face with two new layers. The first layer you have to look past is the gun, a dangerous weapon used in war that splits her face in two. The second layer are the words that are written on her face. Although I can’t tell you what the words mean, they are foreign, making them hard to understand. As humans, we have a tendency to fear what we do not understand rather than accept it. However, if you are able to look past this second layer, you will see her eyes. The eyes are the window to the soul. We are all one. We are all human.

I would like to thank this Australian man who called me a “bloody terrorist.” Because of him, I really thought about what it means to be an outsider looking in on this sort of thing. As a first time traveler outside the U.S. this is my first time experiencing racism internationally. Racism is not a white thing. It is not a black thing. It is not an American or Australian thing. Racism is a people thing. And maybe it is just a hopeful fantasy, but maybe someday our children’s children will learn how to accept everyone for who they are.