Learning New Words, I
“Empathy”
“God, I love the internet.”
As he says that, Harry turns and passes his phone over to Sandra, who takes it, looks at it and literally chokes on the juice she was drinking in laughter. I am on my phone, scrolling through Instagram. I look up, and the two stooges around Sandra and I are giddy. Harry, because he knows the joke. Candy, because she does not.
“Hey Candy, you’re gonna love this meme.” I smile and Candy’s face shows worry. Sarcasm was too heavy in Sandra’s voice. I already knew this was going to be offensive.
“OK, so a black man and Jew jump off a roof together. Who hits the ground first?”
“Oh, come on, Sandra. I don’t like those kinds of jokes.” Candy laments, but Sandra insists. “Just try. It’s not that bad, I swear.”
“Promise me its not some… offensive joke to some type of people.”
“I promise, I promise. Come on, just try.”
It wasn’t the first time she had used those words. I had no explanation why Candy took the bait.
“Ah… They get down at the same time because of gravity?”
Harry forces in a laughter and Candy mumbles, “You’re going to make me regret this.” Sandra is smiling this entire time, and she can’t wait for Candy to try again.
“The black man, because chains are heavier than ash.”
Harry and Sandra bellow out loud. I join them too, accidentally dropping my phone on the ground, screen down. This makes them laugh even louder, even though I fear my phone might be cracked. Candy takes a few seconds before it registers and her face goes ashen.
“I told you not to tell me offensive jokes.”
“Dank memes to be specific. And it’s not done. It gets better.” Candy groans but Sandra is already going on. “Wouldn’t the amount of pennies slow the Jew down.? Answer. The nigga stole them!”
We all burst out laughing, all of us except Candy.
“Wait,” I say, mid laughter. “What’s the Jews and pennies reference?”
“Oh, right.” Harry goes. “It’s that the Jews run a lot of corporations and banks back in the US. They’re known to be wealthy.”
“Like Indians here.” Sandra says.
“Ah, OK, that makes sense.”
“You know they say bad things about us, too. Like, as Africans.” Candy says, and Sandra literally boos her down. “Damn, are you still trying to sell?”
“I am, because you’re always an ass about this. I mean, your joke was,” and her voice goes low here, “antisemitic.”
We all look at her for a while, as she shakes her head, her vehement sign of displeasure. I speak first.
“What’s being anti-semitic?”
“It’s saying offensive things about Jews. Mostly about the Holocaust. I think, I’m not really sure.” Harry again, for the win. Sandra giggles.
“It’s an American problem. Such a very, very American problem.”
“No, it’s not.”
“It is, doll. Where’d you learn that? In some corner of Facebook where people were fighting about their first world problems?”
Candy wants to say something, but the precision of that comment makes her hesitate. She goes to say something but Sandra intervenes.
“Look Candy, I love you, but you need to keep off Facebook, that thing is just not good for you.”
“This isn’t a… a Facebook problem. Or a first world problem.”
“Yes, yes it is. That’s why you started caring about strangers when John decided to dedicate himself as a man of God-”
“Sandra, you’re going too far-” I try cut her short but she goes on.
“-and you decided the Internet was a good retreat for you. Before, you were obsessed about how to end hunger in this country. And little girl, I think that’s worth your dime more than what you’re fighting for right now.”
We’re all quiet. I can hear Candy fuming. It is rare, seeing her angry. But with Sandra, the chances increase exponentially.
She stands and picks up her things as Harry sits up and stretches his hands out to try touch Candy’s.
“Candy, sit down. Sandra will behave. I will behave. We’ll all behave.” His fingers touch her palm, but she pulls away.
“I don’t want you to, not because I’m here. I just think making jokes about over 6 million people dying and millions of people still recovering from slavery in their history is selfish. If it was you, Sandra, who went through any of that, it wouldn’t be funny. To Harry, it would. He’s messed up. But for you, it wouldn’t be.”
She takes her things, walks to the counter, pays for her food, and leaves.
Harry slumps back down and glares at Sandra.
“Don’t,” she says. “She’s overly sensitive. Someone has to flex on her.”
“And that person is you?” Harry counters.
“Hell, yes. Even with you, nuts.”
“You don’t have to do that. She even paid for herself. She must have been mad.”
My phone points to my face but my eyes move between Sandra and Harry as they talk. This is interesting. Their words stop becoming interesting. They become very animated. Harry is clearly very mad. And Sandra is unmovable. To her, she is in the right, and she can communicate that better than Harry can communicate why he’s angry.
I don’t listen to them at all, until I pick up my name in the conversation.
“This one doesn’t seem to mind as much as you. In fact he is not looking at his phone because he looks entertained.”
Harry swings to me and shoots,”You’re OK, with all this?”
I am tempted to look to my phone again. I feel anxious. I don’t want to argue with Sandra. She becomes too invested, her attacks are always personal. I have a thought, though.
“I have four questions.” I look at Sandra. “For you. And you can talk yourself out of anything, while I can’t. So I’ll ask you stick to yes or no’s or I’ll go back to being quiet.”
Sandra leans in and feigns being serious, with a smirk on her face. “Ask me.”
I breathe in and speak. “If your mum died in a a fire, would you joke about it? Be honest.”
She answers immediately. “I wouldn’t.”
“OK, then. If I made a joke about it, when you’re around, would you be angry at me?”
“Yes.”
“If I made a joke about it to someone else when you’re not around, would you be angry when you found out?”
She hesitates, I can tell she wants to give a details answer, but she stops herself and answers after. “Yes.”
“If a stranger joked about your mum and I just sat there and did nothing, would you be angry?”
She answers immediately. “No. Disappointed, but not angry.”
“A last one. If it was my mum, would you let someone joke about my dead mum?”
The response is immediate. “No.”
“I feel you understand what I’m trying to say. The meme was funny, but ultimately its humor is based on people dying. And that just desensitizes people from that horrific situation. It’s not a Kenyan issue, but it is still people dying. Having people who see those kinds of jokes as a bad thing is a good thing, I’d say. It’s an empathy thing.”
We’re all silent for a while, and I feel weird, so I add a last note. “It’s a good thing to have people who will never think people suffering is good. Or funny. They’re the ones who will see a problem there, and fix it.”
Sandra leans back and looks up. Stares at the cafe’s bland ceiling. Looks back at me and says,”I want to argue back. Instead, I have to text her little highness. Apologize.” Her phone is already in her hand, and she’s already lost in it.
Harry is brimming. I say nothing, and go back to my phone. I feel something well up within me though. A feeling of victory, for a cause that matters.
The table is quiet, until Sandra is done and turns to Harry, sliding her phone to him, with the words,”OK, this meme is good, but without the controversy…”
