Differences

When I was an elementary school in Marshalltown, IA, a young Mexican girl visited our classroom. While she was our age, she was slower than most of her peers and spoke poor English in comparison. Additionally, she had one small stub of an arm. Despite the teacher’s best efforts to encourage everyone to interact and get along, her presence was polarizing to most students in our class room. Even at a young age, this struck me deeply. I had been raised by parents who exposed me to diversity at a young age. My mother was always an example of loving those who are different, who are hurting, and who struggle. Until then, I had not even known that one person, whatever their condition or appearance, was any different than anyone else. In my youthful eyes, we were all the same. This experience was the first time I had every witnessed the effects of being different, and it was strange.

I remember reaching out to her and playing with her and the teachers assistant, even when all the other kids wouldn’t. I remembering enjoying my time with her and realizing that there was nothing inherently different about her at all. I couldn’t figure out what the problem was. This experience, while small, was a transformative moment in my life. It illustrated the struggle people face when they appear ‘different’. It always showed me that people are more similar than they are different. When we focus on the differences, they take over and taint the beauty of our similarities.