The Scars Disappear

 

Dear Boo and Bubble,

It seems that so much of our societal dialogue these days focuses on differences—race, gender, religion, political persuasion, orientations. Rather than seeing these differences as fascinating and opportunities to learn, they tend to become barriers to our abilities to know and understand each other. Quite frankly, it takes a lot of work…sometimes uncomfortable work…to get to know someone who’s different from you. Our tendency is to hide behind the curtain of comfort that homogeny provides. We feel safe and secure surrounded by familiar environs, but I would proffer from my own life’s experience that your world broadens, and you gain strength of character by diving into the waters of the unfamiliar.

I understand that so much of our hesitancy rests on the flimsy superficial excuse of the visual. It could be the color of skin or the not so pretty face or perhaps someone’s weight that deters us from going further or digging deeper. Think of Christmas presents under a tree, all deliciously wrapped in elegant shiny paper with huge, festive bows…but for one exception which is haphazardly swathed in newspaper, barely taped together. In the mad scramble to get things open, I would imagine this less attractive present with no outward appeal would be the last. Curiosity might serve as its only salvation. What a surprise, however, when its contents prove to be the most interesting gift of all—something with a value lasting longer than only into the afternoon of Christmas Day. How sad it would be to have never opened it, letting its difference be the barrier.

This reminds me of an experience Captain and I had several years ago when I was writing articles for Carolina Mountain Life Magazine, a local publication that covers the goings on in our area. My assignment (with Captain being my photographer) was to interview a man who had been burned over 95% of his body when the Louisiana oil rig on which he worked blew up. Miraculously, he survived not only the initial incident but the aftermath of operations and skin grafts that followed. He had moved to the mountains because his body no longer had any sweat glands, and he needed a climate with lower temperatures and humidity in which to live.

Even with the foreknowledge of his circumstance, it was very difficult seeing him for the first time. Because of the grafting, his skin had no flexibility and wrapped around his face and arms like taut cellophane. He had no nose, just nostrils…and his eyes were only slits without benefit of lids or brows. He explained that periodically he had to endure ongoing surgeries to cut Z patterns into his skin to relieve the tightness. His arms were so covered in scars, it seemed like someone had taken a switchblade to him.

We talked for several hours as he described the wrenching details of the accident, his months in the hospital, the agonizing procedures necessary to keep him alive, and the long slog to some semblance of recovery. Towards the end of the interview, my questions pivoted to his present life…how he had acclimated to the mountains and, perhaps more importantly, how the community had accepted him. To answer, he told us a simple story with an ending so profound, both Captain and I remain affected by it.

“I went into McDonald’s the other day to get something to eat. There was a table full of children on my right as I walked in. At the sight of me, they stopped eating and talking and began staring in fright. Of course, I couldn’t help but notice.

Instead of heading straight to the counter to place my order, I decided to go over and talk to them. I told them what had happened to me and rolled up my shirtsleeve to show them my arm. We talked about how important it was to stay away from fire…how dangerous it was and how something could go wrong in an instant. They asked if they could touch my skin and I let them. By the end of our conversation, we had become friends.

You see…when you get to know me, my scars disappear.”

Perhaps this mantra should be rephrased to broaden its application and say, “When you get to know me, our differences will disappear.”