Extra Essays Examining Xenophobia: Letters From Peggy

Quentin, Are you about 36 years old and from the Montreal area? If so, I would appreciate your forwarding this message on to your mother. If not, just delete this. You and she were on a road trip in Maine back then and picked up a hitchhiker, either one Ed Claflin or one Lenny Bloch, I forget, both newly-found friends of mine, whom I haven't seen or heard from since those days, who brought you and your mother to our "total loss farm", where you both stayed for several days. You were about 4, your mother and Ed or Lenny and I about 23, and I taught you how to saw and split firewood. I recall those few days nostalgically as a magical time in which total strangers became almost a family. I recall your name because I wrote on the wall before you left, "Quentin Royle stayed here for a while in September", and for some reason the phrase just stuck in my head. I don't even recall your mother's first name or the circumstances of your leaving, or your destination. But my reason for contacting you is not entirely nostalgic although there is some of that; its more like curious. I am and have of late been concerned with and studying and trying to understand the psychological bases of people's fear of the different and particularly the unknown stranger. It is in the context of anti-discrimination work in my neighborhood in Buffalo, protecting services and homes for the poor and disabled from attack by xenophobic "neighbors." I view our time in September, 1970 (and other similar experiences through the years) as a sort of model for avoiding that sort of phobic reaction and wonder if your mother could, if it suits her, share her feelings and ideas with me. In particular, I would like to know if she agrees that four strangers became a virtual family and, if so, how does she feel it happened? How did we overcome the "hard-wired" fear and distrust so quickly? Was it that we were young? Was it the times and, if so, what was it about the time? Or maybe it was just that we weren't so different. I'm not looking for a formula, just some sort of validation (or invalidation--maybe I was just infatuated with your mother, for instance) of what I have believed to be a realistically-grounded, even if short-lived, vision guiding my efforts in the community. I guess I just want to hear another point of view. Thanking you and your mother in advance, sincerely, William W. Berry.

My son Quentin, after thinking long and hard, with the automatic distrust

you mentioned, but also because he doesn't want any harm to come to me,

forwarded the message.

I remember those days, too, not in too much detail, but vividly nonetheless.

My thoughts may not fit in with any theories. I think I come from a trusting

family. I never expected any harm from anyone, and I have been continually

surprised and disappointed in people. I spent many years in the "helping"

professions, perhaps like you, and ended up being burnt out. Now I still

teach English to immigrants, who are the nicest clients, and I have become a

translator (French to English). I deal with fewer and fewer people, and I am

starting to develop a healthy (I think it's healthier for me, anyway)

distrust to protect me from exploitive types.

Yet I have lived in some "communal" arrangements. Right now I have a young

boarder - actually he doesn't even pay rent - without Canadian papers. He

comes from Guinea. And I think he is just a little bit exploitive. Also, the

other two apartments in the building are occupied by friends. I called them

when the apartments were available and introduced them to the landlord.

(Apartments are getting very hard to find in Montreal). We share a big back

yard. That is, I do all the work and they enjoy the space. One of them

leaves his back door unlocked and we have each other's spare keys. I pay the

landlord in cash and don't even ask for a receipt. He shows up anytime after

the first of the month and we talk, he fixes something, and the guy in the

basement apartment usually pays him half now and half on the fifteenth. (He

is a guy from Somalia that I met playing pool in a bar, and we became

friends just like that. I make lots of superficial "pool" friends.) We live

in a low-rent section of Montreal, not far from downtown, and it is full of

immigrants from all over the world. Just now, Canada needs immigration

because the birthrate is very low. They are all represented here, and the

food shopping is great! You see brilliant saris and African dresses, hear

the music of the world through open windows, and so on. I have no fear of

the neighbours - quite the contrary - because I feel that they are not

judging me so much, that everyone has their own culture, that we are living

in different realities, that I don't really belong in their circle. They see

me, but they can't "place" me socially. They are concerned with getting

established and educating the next generation. Sometimes the men approach me

late at night, thinking I must be a prostitute because their culture views

women in a protective light. But they are just asking, if you know what I

mean. There is very little problem with violence here. Most of the violence

takes place between biker gangs or mafia groups, and they don't operate,

openly at any rate, in this area. They do operate in the sense that

restaurants commonly pay protection in Montreal, as far as I know.

So I guess you could say I am still living out some of those ideals, having

found a place in a big, western city where "we are the world." I had a lot

of relationships with men from other countries, all of which were

interesting and instructive, but most of which ended with me being used one

way or another. You could say this was a character flaw of mine. I have

never gone for the big bucks, preferring to work for government institutions

such as hospitals, clinics, detention centres, schools, and universities. I

like free time, too. I give everything away once I'm tired of it (clothes,

books, gadgets). I have learned not to lend CDs, but I make cassettes for

friends if they want. I have fewer and fewer real friends because I got

tired of giving and helping and not receiving when I felt I needed

something. Now I tend to do for myself more. I want to accomplish more. I

don't want to waste so much time with other people's problems. I spend a lot

of time with my grandson (3 years old). He is my daughter's son. I feel I

was too immature when I had my kids, and I am trying to do a better job as a

grandmother. Besides, he is the light of my life.

This is getting a bit long. I have not really answered your questions. But

you made me think about idealism and what it is, really. I am not sure, but

maybe for me it was a way of seeking approval by being of service to others.

A lack of self-confidence. I am now trying to develop my talents and be more

productive. Perhaps I will write someday. I am learning to set limits on

what other people take from me. And when I offer help or whatever, I am

trying to give it without motives, i.e., not hoping to get something back

like love or acceptance.

I remember that you were very good with Quentin, who was a difficult child.

Most people quickly lost patience with him. I felt quite isolated from all

the action that was in the air in those days - saddled with two children and

a husband who basically didn't like me, with too much responsibility too

young. I was surprised and grateful to meet someone who didn't think it was

a drag to spend time with a hyperactive, oversensitive, demanding,

short-fused little boy. On the contrary, you seemed to find him precious. It

changed my outlook, and I thank you for that.

Shortly after I got back to Montreal, I separated from my husband, and we

shared the kids back and forth. In those days, the mother usually got

custody, but of course I had to be cutting-edge in that too, and now I

regret not spending more time with them.

I still meet strangers easily - in my classes, when I go out salsa dancing,

in translation work, playing pool - and I still hope for the best, but have

become more cautious in my expectations.

Peggy (my official name is Margaret).

Peggy, I can't thank you enough for your heartfelt and prompt response to my

letter. It's so exciting when a shot in the dark like that actually works!

Peculiar to the modern world of searches and computers and your son's unique

name, I guess. Also, I want to thank you for being so responsive to my

concerns. I think you're onto it when you talk about the way you were

brought up to be not afraid of others. You've helped me. Adrian Piper, the

artist, finds that xenophobia is "hard-wired" and that it is overcome in the

cosmopolitan experience. Thank you for your history, too. I am also into

"human services," having been a legal services lawyer for 22 years, doing

mainly health care issues, eligbility for and coverage within the various

welfare and insurance plans which proliferate south of the border. I hope I

didn't mislead you into thinking that the attacks on social services here

were violent. That potential is always there (Hitler went after the disabled

children first), but we're fighting mainly political, legal and psychological

battles to maintain services in neighborhoods that consist of all sorts of

income levels and cultures and apparently consequent mistrust. Montreal

sounds so nurturing and varied. That's one thing I've always noticed and

theorized about Toronto: that it's neighborhoods are varied and thriving and

alive because of immigration policy, as contrasted with the US and Buffalo,

in particular. I will write more in the very near future. Thank you again

for being so responsive. Bill.

Yes, please do write more. Peggy

Don't make the mistake of idealizing Toronto or any other part of Canada.

Just last week there was a hate murder of an Orthodox Jew, and Indian

immigrants ("Pakis") have frequently been attacked in Toronto. For hundreds

of years, the only jobs for blacks in Canada were maids and railroad

porters. Chinese railroad workers were not allowed to get married, and just

to come here, they had to pay an enormous "head tax." Japanese were interned

in World War II. The Native population has been victim to a tremendous

amount of abuse, neglect and prejudice. In Quebec there is a lot of tension

between young Haitians and Quebecois, between young Jamaicans and the

English, and young blacks and everybody, especially apparent on the public

transport system (buses). And don't forget the tension between English and

French. That's a very long story that we have been living with for

centuries, and it's heating up. There have been cases of Arabs being

targeted with remarks, and so on. The hiring policies for all the Quebec

public service jobs have, until very recently, resulted in almost 100%

Quebecois-manned positions (meaning French-speaking, with French-sounding

last names - in other words, I wouldn't qualify although I was born here).

(And the expression "manned" is appropriate, because although Quebecois

women are extremely liberated - they tend not to get married and when they

do they keep their family names - there is still a long way to go before

proper representation in all job categories and levels).

As for the disabled, it's the same here as anywhere. We would rather not see

them around all the time. The buses have been converted for wheelchairs

within the last ten years - not all of them, but the schedules are available

at the bus stops - and most public buildings have been adapted.

One thing I have noticed, and it's that some recent immigrant groups are

more tolerant with the disabled. They consider "different" people in their

midst as kind of gift from God, varying from culture to culture as to the

meaning (it's a test, they are special people, they are put here to make us

kind, etc.). They tend to keep them at home because they have extended

families, and they participate in family gatherings, outings and so on.

Probably without that extended family, they would be in institutions like

I get the impression that our culture is too specialized. Couples are

isolated, the old, the young and the disabled are put in special places, TV

programs are targeted towards smaller and ever more specialized audiences,

etc. You can see the difference in my neighbourhood. The whole family, say

from India or Sri Lanka, is relaxing on the "greenspace" in front of

Loblaw's on a Sunday. The kids are running around playing, not sitting right

next to the parents. There is always a grandmother or grandfather or older

sibling taking care of the younger ones, and the women are free to chat

together for a little while. I keep waiting for a sign to go up saying "No

Soccer Playing" or "No Running", but so far, the Quebec government seems to

be trying to win over the loyalty of the new immigrants, trying to get them

to identify with the "Quebecois" culture. Which is very funny. They are all

desperate to learn English so they can get jobs anywhere in North America,

but Quebec tries to force everyone to go to school in French and not learn

English. So private schools are booming. It's a big controversy here.

I guess the only reason it seems less prejudiced and violent here than in

Buffalo is because for a long time, there were not so many immigrants here

other than from Europe. Now we are starting to experience the colour,

culture and language barriers in earnest. I think it will only get worse as

more and more people come in from India, Vietnam, Africa, South America, the

Middle East, and then there are the Russian Jews. I hear the English

teachers saying things like, "The Sri Lankans are nice, they smile and they

don't make trouble, but the Russian Jews are trouble-makers." or "The

Chinese students are smart but they don't like to practice speaking." "The

Arab students are too demanding and they interrupt all the time." To me,

prejudice is always there, lurking under the liberal mask, waiting to come

out at the appropriate provocation.

Although my family was basically trusting, I remember my mother's automatic

reaction towards anyone from another culture, no matter how slightly

different. For example, Irish catholics. She also mocked anyone who had a

trace of an accent. Actually she was quite prejudiced, probably through lack

of exposure. Canadians of her generation were isolated from international

exposure, due to the extremely dominant white English culture. She seemed to

feel that everyone else was kind of funny and not as intelligent as her. My

father was a lot more open, and I think it could have had something to do

with his love for music. That same love of music has bridged the gap between

me and many a cultural group.

I have African friends who are afraid of Arabs, and Arab friends who don't

respect blacks. My Italian and Greek friends harbour all kinds of fears and

prejudices, especially towards blacks. Then there are the women of Montreal

who say, don't go out with a Haitian, or an African, or a Latino, or an

Arab. They'll treat you badly.

Does it all come down to ignorance and lack of self-confidence? Or is that

Peggy, thanks again. I'm going to have to spend some time to do justice in responding to your observations. Seven months of life in Maine was an object lesson for me not only in not fearing strangers, but also in the futility of attempts at self-sufficiency. I rejoined society in December, 1970, when it got real cold. Which reminds me: it seems that my intellectual obsession of late, theorizing on the causes of and direction of paths leading out of this fear, is just part of the very much broader inquiry into the human being as animal. Many sub-subjects there! One of my not very original theories is that pain avoidance, the evolved animal survival mechanism embedded in all of us, is at the root of this xenophobia. I guess the humans living in Canada are animals too. I think I do tend to idealize Canadians as being more civilized, even though I should know better because my maternal grandfather was from St. Catharines and grandmother from Lion's (sic!) Head on the Bruce Peninsula, not to mention my favorite Chinese restaurant's being in Ft. Erie. Your detailing the sordid incidents there of discrimination of all sorts was helpful to me, particularly as you relate it to economic subjugation. I haven't got so far in my thinking as to concretely relate slavery and its variations to this pain avoidance idea. I guess it would be something on the order of the need for security, having enough to eat and stay warm, in some sense pain avoidance, leading to exploitation of other, perhaps less-warlike groups and individuals, to provide that security, the whole process justified because of the oppressed class' being different, and the evolution of the viceroy (trust him because he's like you) model to enforce and reinforce the power relation. Foucault (but he's French!) describes these power relations, but I've never been able to wade through enough of any of his work to know if he even speculates as to their origins. Maybe you've been able to. Understanding the origins, I think, can possibly instruct on how to avoid the terrible, inhuman(e) consequences of these fearful primitive responses to the environment. And that would speak to your "ignorance" and "lack of self-confidence" explanations for the fear, which would mean we're not irrevocably condemned to those awful consequences of our hard-wired fears. But I also think that looking for models of non-fearfulness, as I think they tend to appear in everyday life for most of us, can lead in this direction. That's what got me thinking of examples from my own life which I could study and ask questions about and led to the e-mail. It's difficult to discuss these issues with people you're around all the time because it's hard to remember when you were strangers. And its probably even more difficult to find others you're not familiar with to share ideas concerning common experiences. So I feel very lucky just to be able to engage in this exchange! More soon. Bill.

Sometimes when I am lost or confused I read the works of Krishnamurti, an

eastern philosopher, and he addresses the concept of fear. It's his core

idea. He talks about how the mind creates fear, mainly by forming ideas that

conflict with reality. That is, when you are about to be run over by a bus,

you just step aside instinctively, without thinking. He calls this

intelligence, and it is the perception of reality and the appropriate

response to it. But when you start thinking about buses, you might become

afraid to cross the street, or even to go out. You might start buying

insurance to protect your family in case you get hit by a bus, and so on.

You start living in fear of the future.

His other core idea is the folly of holding on to the past, which is, in his

view, the same thing - the mind creating a structure that is not reality. In

this holding onto the past, he includes all our cultural conditioning,

history and experiences. This information makes us construct ideas in our

minds that we want to hold on to, and ultimately leads to fear of the

future. For example, your culture tells you that a woman should cover her

hair, and when you see women walking around showing their hair, you fear

that something bad will happen. I am putting it to you in a very simplified