Walking the aisles in a search for clarity
- Melissa Herrera: Not Waiting for Friday
- February 16, 2025
- 1477
Last Friday I had the urge to spend some time with myself. After coffee and breakfast, I took a shower, pampered my face with some fancy creams and got in my car for a day out. My plan was to hit several small stores, do some thrifting and end up at Costco, where I finally took the plunge and signed up.
I don’t know about you, but what am I gonna do with this 12-pack of large croissants in a two-person household? The learning will kick in.
In a perfect twist to my day out, I went to an evening showing of a movie called “The Presence.” I’m a big horror movie fan, but the events of the last several weeks have been enough of a horror movie to last me for a lifetime. But watching movies is where I relax and dissociate for a bit. I purchased my big tub of popcorn and headed in.
I enjoyed the movie very much. A typical ghost story is seeing it through the eyes of whomever is being haunted. This movie turned that on its head and let us see the family through the ghost’s eyes. It kept me on edge the entire tightly filmed 90 minutes.
I know very well that because of who I am, a day out can be planned at the drop of a hat. And who am I? A slightly past middle-aged white woman. For many right now, even going to the store is an inconvenience, an added worry. Even for those of us that are an American citizen/resident, added worries because of how one looks means carrying additional legal documents.
This is exactly what we fought so hard against — being able to stop someone on the basis of how they look. It doesn’t matter now if you are a 7th generation American, if you look “different,” you can be stopped. And how do we define “different?” Is it black skin or brown eyes and brown skin? Imagine being the descendant of someone who passed on their dark black hair to you and that could now cause you to be detained on the street. Unlearn what you believe to be happening. We can’t seem to see the extremism in that because it’s our own extremism.
But personal stories being shared these days, phew, there’s a pecking order to them. They aren’t heard if they’re deemed not correct. If you have a story to tell, please tell it. Write it. Take the time to put it on paper. Open up your laptop and start typing.
At this moment in history, we have a front-row seat to learn from others. Stories are being told from our own living rooms. I consider my social media pages my living room. I decide what goes in them. And I’m more concerned someone is offended by how any story is being told than what is being done to the country. Looking outward is a learned habit.
I took time to reflect as I walked around with myself through local store aisles. As I selected my croissants and a pack of delicious Campari tomatoes at Costco, I thought about people who think someone being in danger is cause for laughter. Poking around in Goodwill made me think of my friend who owns a local farm and recently had grants cut that helped them survive. As I purchased my ticket to the movie, my daughter came to mind — she lost her job working with refugees at Christian World Service in Virginia because of funding being slashed. They will be pinching pennies until she can find work again.
Everyone’s story is worthy. Being self-reflective is something I have consistently worked on as a human. But your way might not be my way, and my way doesn’t have to be your way.
There are atrocities happening here and around the world. You hear about mine because I write about them. If you’re in immediate danger, look around for the helpers. We are out here. If you’re not, look around inside yourself for empathy. Or take a day out and step outside yourself amidst the store aisles. The clarity is amazing out here.
Melissa Herrera is a reflective writer who captures the beauty and sorrow of change. With a career spanning 14 years as an opinion columnist and the publication of two books, she resides in Stark County with her husband and four cats. She writes to preserve memories. You can reach her at junkbabe68@gmail.com.