Selective Blindness
By Prospero E. Pulma Jr.
* This essay has been rusting in my electronic baul since 2005. I decided to post it here before I completely forget that I wrote it.
What is in a man’s face and clothing that makes other people treat him differently? I have asked myself this question after I have witnessed how people are treated in inspection booths, teased over their special condition, or pampered because of their gorgeous looks. Perhaps you have witnessed how a person can be treated based on his clothing or appearance. Well, I have witnessed how security guards at railway stations and malls would raise or lower their level of vigilance depending on the individual standing in line to be frisked. On my way to work, I would just don a pair of slacks and white undershirt and put my polo shirt in my bag. I would only change into the prescribed office attire at the MRT Buendia station where I would take the bus to Ayala Avenue. The watchmen would give me the standard inspection to see if I have a grenade in my bag or a belt of explosives wrapped around my waist. When I am already garbed in my work clothes, they would just take a cursory look at me, their attention focused on the shabby guy behind me, itching to get their hands on the poor fellow. The security guards probably thought that terrorists are clones of Osama bin Laden – unkempt with a flowing beard – and they should strip-search anybody who sports a disheveled look and shoot him if he resists. I wonder what they would do if Osama would drop his classic terrorist look, get a clean shave and haircut, and strut before them in designer clothes. Would they frisk him or let him pass unmolested?
I have another experience to share, no, not with guards but with teenagers in church. Mass was about to start. I was sleepy – postprandial drowsiness to be exact - when laughter aborted my trip to dreamland. I looked around to see if the parish priest has hired a clown or a stand-up comedian to entertain his flock between masses. I did not see a jester, but I saw two adolescent boys poking fun at a special child. I have seen the object of their ridicule many times before. He and his companions, probably special children like him, were bused every Sunday to the church to hear mass. They would usually occupy the front pews near the altar. I have observed that the other churchgoers were apparently aware of their condition and I have not seen anybody laugh at the unfortunate kids before until the two imps came. Peeved with their rowdiness, I transferred to another seat and wished for a bolt of lighting to strike them and karma to turn them into stars in a freak show, whichever came first.
While waiting for the bolt of lightning to come, I remembered an article that revealed that we Filipinos love to criticize, even scoff, at somebody else’s appearance. Well, the two teenagers certainly belong to that group. It may be in our culture to scrutinize an individual’s physical appearance, but we should always remember this immortal advice: We should first take a look at ourselves in the mirror before we look down at “the least of our brethren.” Or if we think that we have earned the right to belittle others by virtue of conceit or plain meanness, why don’t we ask ourselves if the people that we ridicule remind us of our own imperfections. Perhaps, we would see that we are more flawed and bigger stars in the freak show than the ones we call freaks.
“Sa mukha pa lang ay hindi na gagawa ng mabuti!” We often say this when we see a police lineup of crime suspects, forgetting that criminals come in all shapes and sizes. In fact, it is common knowledge that a good number of them prowl the halls of power in our country. A person’s face may be perfectly fit for a rogue’s gallery or should be plastered on the cover of a fashion magazine, but it only constitutes a fraction of his body and soul. Like our tongues, our faces can be taught how to lie and deceive. Physical beauty should never be used as proof of moral uprightness because angelic looks have been repeatedly used to abuse a person’s trust.
We have been taught to never judge a book by its cover, but this wise counsel has fallen on countless deaf ears, mine included. Literally, I have been tricked into wasting hours reading a book with an attractive cover but with a dull story, in the same way that I have been wrong with my first impression of some people. It took me several erroneous initial verdicts about a person’s character before I dismissed the popular line, “First impressions last,” as pure hogwash and replaced it with “First impressions suck.”
How many times have we erred when we used only one God-given faculty when dealing with our fellowmen? Take our sight, for example. Our eyes are essential for our everyday existence; yet, we tend to forget to consign it to a secondary role when judging another person. The result is a strange malady called selective blindness; we only see our fellowmen as bodies, empty hulks of flesh and bones. This has lead many of us to treat a man by the manner of his clothing and appearance and not by his character, which is unfortunate because a man’s real beauty resides not on his face or body but it lies deep in his heart and soul- hidden from our biased and half-blind eyes.
Labels: church, MRT, Osama bin Laden, postprandial drowsiness, rogue’s gallery, special children
