restorative justice and social work
Content
While visiting my daughter in Aurora, Ill., I had the opportunity to go into a Hispanic grocery store. I wanted to purchase some biscuits, eggs and cheese to fix for breakfast. From the name of the store and the advertising on the window I knew that it catered to the Hispanic population but, I was not prepared for what was inside. Once inside the store I notice that everything in the store was written and marketed for the Spanish population. To purchase meat and cheese you had to order it from behind a glass counter. I wanted to buy some smoked Gouda cheese and there were only two packs in the counter. So I took a number and waited until they called. Once my number was called I had to make the sale person understand what I was trying to say. In order to make her understand the words coming out of my mouth, I pointed, make hand gestures, shook my head nodded and grunted. She never understood what I was trying to say. So I kept saying cheese and pointed in the direction to where the cheese was. The sale clerk picked up several different items that she thought I was talking about but never the cheese, she kept trying to communicate with me all at the same time but neither one of us understood the next one. By the time she got to the cheese that I wanted someone else had purchased the last package. So I left the meat and cheese counter empty handed and went about my way trying to find some biscuits. I stopped a store clerk and she couldn’t understand what I was trying to say so she walked away. Not willing to give up and I stopped another sale person and attempted to talk with them, after stopping three clerks to no avail. One clerk went and got the only English speaking person on shift and it was the store manager. I explained to him that I was looking for some biscuit that came in a can, that was ready to bake and they are usually found in the dairy selection along with the butter, eggs and milk. The store
manager seemed to understand what I was talking about and told me to follow him. He took me down a couple of aisles to the frozen food department and showed me some Jimmy Dean frozen sausage gravy and biscuits that was already prepared and told me that was all they had. It was not like there was no communication going on in the store because the store was full of people laughing and talking to each other. It was just that I could not communicate with them. That was the first time I ever experienced being alone and isolated in a world full of people and it made me realize that I was a minority. I never realized what minority really stood for until that experience even though I have been one all my life. I felt so out of place and different; I felt isolated and alone. To walk around knowing what you want and not be able to express your needs is very frustrating. I Hispanic People in the store didn’t seem to be bothered by my presents, but it was very unusually for me because I had never been in a situation like that before. I go to place all the time where I’m the only black and the majority is white. But this was the first time that I was a minority within another minority group. So when I came back to Grand Rapids I went to the Hispanic neighborhood and visited the Health care clinic.
I chose the Clinica Santa Maria. Clinica Sainta Maria is a predominantly Hispanic health care center which is an affiliate of St Mary Health Link. It is located on Grandville Ave S.W. in the heart of the Hispanic community. Grandville Ave is the birthplace for the many different cultures that are new arrivals to Grand Rapids. This neighborhood is one of the oldest Spanish communities in Grand Rapids. When families first come to G.R. they usually located some where close to there. Grandville Ave. is rich in Hispanic culture, art, stores, food vendors and churches that cater to that population.
I arrived at the clinic at 7:30 am on a Monday morning. There were about 15 clients already waiting outside in line to get in. There were families, old men and women, young mothers with infant babies wrapped in colorful blankets waiting in the chilly morning air. About 7:45, the receptionist opened the doors and greeted the first couple of people that entered before going back to her station. Once inside I found a corner that was secluded and took a seat. I listened as the client registered for their appointment not understanding too much of anything that was being said. Every now and then I would hear a word that I could understand and I would light up a little because I knew what he or she was coming in for service for. Within the next 20 minutes people filed in the door to find a seat and waited for their appointments. The clinic offered services for a variety of needs, ranging from dental, health care, therapy, and Women infant and Children Services (WIC). The majority of the staff was Spanish speaking and from a Hispanic background. The one thing that stood out to me was the programming on the phone. The listing stated if you were Spanish push 1 and if you where English speaking push 2. Most places have it the other way around for English push 1 and for Spanish push 2. Once again, by listening to the menu on the phone I knew that I was a minority again. The room was decorated with Hispanic health posters about HIV/AIDS and LeLeche. There was a stain glass mural of Mother Teresa which I though was appropriate because of the affiliation with St Mary Hospital and the Hispanic communities’ strong ties to the Catholic Church. The room was painted a soft green which appeared to be relaxing. The children played freely with other children in the room while the parents
chatted with other or sat and waited quietly for their appointment. After sitting there for about 15 minute the receptionist noticed that I had not registered and asked me in English if I had an appointment. I quietly told her no and she just nodded her head and went back talking in Spanish to the others. After sitting there for about an hour I noticed that family units, grandparents, child and grandchildren, mother, father and children came to the appointment together and that the male figure did most of the talking. When a woman came in with a male I never heard her talk to the receptionist or to the nurse the male did all the talking. Another example was when a little boy walked away from his parent the mother did not say a word but the father figure did all of the protesting to get the boy to come and stand by them. This lead me to believe that the Hispanic culture is very male dominate and that women follow the lead of the husband if he is present. After sitting for a couple hours it seemed like the other started to notice that I was not there for an appointment and started to pay attention to me more. I felt a little nervous, alone and scared but at the same time I felt invisible. No one tried to talk to me, sit by me or anything. Every now and then someone would look at me and start to talk in Spanish which made me believe that they were talking about me. I tried to act like it didn’t bother me but it did. I started to play with my phone in hopes that someone would call me so I could tell them to come and keep me company but the phone never rang. After doing that for a few moments I got up and went to the bathroom so that I could clam myself down a little. After spending about 10 minutes in there someone knocked on the door so I had to come out. Again it felt like everyone was looking at me. The main receptionist left the front desk and went someplace else. So to break the silence, I went to
the receptionist desk again and told the new lady why I was sitting there and again she responded in English, telling me that it was okay. The main group of people seemed not be bother by my presence in the clinic except for one man that came in with what appeared to be his wife, daughter and grandchild. This family rode what appeared to be a commuter van to the clinic. The van had writing on the side in Spanish that gave me the feeling that it was something from the community that pick up people for appointments something similar to the red cross or salvation army van service. The man was about 4ft 10in tall but the lady that was with him was about 5ft 10 and very robust in size. When the man came in the door he noticed me and would not stop staring. He continues to have a conversation with the people that were with him but he made me feel very uncomfortable. His wife sat in the row of seats that was close to the door and the girl came and in sat in the row of seat closest to the window. The man still talking in Spanish, told his wife to move over. I’m not for sure if that is what was said but the woman move to a different seat closer to the girl with the child so I assume that is what was said. After that, the man would not take his eyes off of me he just kept on talking to his wife and daughter and looking at me. The lady tried to read an article out of the newspaper to her husband and daughter and every now and then I could hear a laugh. But still the man keeps on looking at me walking closer and closer to were I was sitting. I don’t know if he never had seen a black person up close or what but I was getting panicky because I didn’t know what to expect from him. The man daughter finally got the child undress and he started to play in the waiting area, while the other families continued to talk in Spanish, still the man continued to stare and walk closer towards me. I started to
wonder to myself is this how I act when I see someone that is different? Not meaning any harm but casually checking them out too long. Then to top things off, a little Hispanic boy about five years old came over by me and looked me up and down like I was a statue or a fine painting on the wall. He looked at my shoe and then touched them and looked at his hand. So I smiled and said hi, and then he looked at my hand and face and reached over and started to rub my hand after a few second of rubbing he looked down at his hand; trying to see if his hand had changed colors. This made me feel angry because I never would have expected that from a small child. The only thing that I could conclude from the hand rubbing was that they were trying to see if my darkness would rub off. Children are curious but to put your hand on someone and then look at your own led me to believe that this was something that he had seen done before. When the mother noticed that the little boy was standing in my face starring she called him, but never did the little boy’s mother or the wife that came in with the man say anything to the older man about starring at me or moving closer and closer. So to break the trance I got up and walked outside and stood in the hallway. I remained at the clinic for about 3 more hours. The waiting area started to lose the sound of children playing and the rustle of people coming and going. I sat there finishing up my notes I started to get teary eyed, with just the thought of being alone in a strange place with no one to comfort me. I started to wonder how someone could survive without the support of their family and friends. I had thoughts about the pain, the loneness, emptiness, and the feeling of being abandoned. These were just a few of the feeling that I experience and I wondered how the Hispanics, Africans , and all of the immigrants that come to America feel when they are here without any
thing that reconnect them to their home country. With all of the different feeling going on inside of me, I had to get up and go to my car so that I could cry alone. The Hispanics seem to be a very connected community and a group of people that have some power in influence in the Grand Rapids community. I say this because the community on the Grandville Ave have continue to grow and improve over the years new schools, new clinics, barbershops and house that look like house in Mexico and stores that support the Hispanic culture and community. Whereas when African American move from a lower class upward they tend to more to the suburbs and try to assimilate in the white cultures forgetting about the community that helped them to succeed. There appears to be strong family ties and support, by the way the family units showed up at the clinic. I say that because in my family who ever can get the day off work took the child to the doctor appointment. Very rarely would mu husband and I go together except for surgeries. The parents seem to value their children freedom because never once did I notice or hear a parent raise their scold or scold their child while I was there. The parents seem to be proud of the heritage which is show and how they continue to dress their children in clothing that reflect their culture. Little boy with cowboy boot and girls with bright colored skirt that was embroider in fiesta designed. This was a rewarding experience that I probably would not have taken if it was not for this class. I learned a lot and I’m eager learning more. I student Spanish for four years and never used the language. I’m optimistic about finding a group of Spanish speaking people that I can interact with and learn more about their culture and learn to communicate with them better.
Cultural Competency for Social Work SW 600-02 Diversity Experience October 27, 2008 By BeverlyEdwards-Weathersby
manager seemed to understand what I was talking about and told me to follow him. He took me down a couple of aisles to the frozen food department and showed me some Jimmy Dean frozen sausage gravy and biscuits that was already prepared and told me that was all they had. It was not like there was no communication going on in the store because the store was full of people laughing and talking to each other. It was just that I could not communicate with them. That was the first time I ever experienced being alone and isolated in a world full of people and it made me realize that I was a minority. I never realized what minority really stood for until that experience even though I have been one all my life. I felt so out of place and different; I felt isolated and alone. To walk around knowing what you want and not be able to express your needs is very frustrating. I Hispanic People in the store didn’t seem to be bothered by my presents, but it was very unusually for me because I had never been in a situation like that before. I go to place all the time where I’m the only black and the majority is white. But this was the first time that I was a minority within another minority group. So when I came back to Grand Rapids I went to the Hispanic neighborhood and visited the Health care clinic.
I chose the Clinica Santa Maria. Clinica Sainta Maria is a predominantly Hispanic health care center which is an affiliate of St Mary Health Link. It is located on Grandville Ave S.W. in the heart of the Hispanic community. Grandville Ave is the birthplace for the many different cultures that are new arrivals to Grand Rapids. This neighborhood is one of the oldest Spanish communities in Grand Rapids. When families first come to G.R. they usually located some where close to there. Grandville Ave. is rich in Hispanic culture, art, stores, food vendors and churches that cater to that population.
I arrived at the clinic at 7:30 am on a Monday morning. There were about 15 clients already waiting outside in line to get in. There were families, old men and women, young mothers with infant babies wrapped in colorful blankets waiting in the chilly morning air. About 7:45, the receptionist opened the doors and greeted the first couple of people that entered before going back to her station. Once inside I found a corner that was secluded and took a seat. I listened as the client registered for their appointment not understanding too much of anything that was being said. Every now and then I would hear a word that I could understand and I would light up a little because I knew what he or she was coming in for service for. Within the next 20 minutes people filed in the door to find a seat and waited for their appointments. The clinic offered services for a variety of needs, ranging from dental, health care, therapy, and Women infant and Children Services (WIC). The majority of the staff was Spanish speaking and from a Hispanic background. The one thing that stood out to me was the programming on the phone. The listing stated if you were Spanish push 1 and if you where English speaking push 2. Most places have it the other way around for English push 1 and for Spanish push 2. Once again, by listening to the menu on the phone I knew that I was a minority again. The room was decorated with Hispanic health posters about HIV/AIDS and LeLeche. There was a stain glass mural of Mother Teresa which I though was appropriate because of the affiliation with St Mary Hospital and the Hispanic communities’ strong ties to the Catholic Church. The room was painted a soft green which appeared to be relaxing. The children played freely with other children in the room while the parents
chatted with other or sat and waited quietly for their appointment. After sitting there for about 15 minute the receptionist noticed that I had not registered and asked me in English if I had an appointment. I quietly told her no and she just nodded her head and went back talking in Spanish to the others. After sitting there for about an hour I noticed that family units, grandparents, child and grandchildren, mother, father and children came to the appointment together and that the male figure did most of the talking. When a woman came in with a male I never heard her talk to the receptionist or to the nurse the male did all the talking. Another example was when a little boy walked away from his parent the mother did not say a word but the father figure did all of the protesting to get the boy to come and stand by them. This lead me to believe that the Hispanic culture is very male dominate and that women follow the lead of the husband if he is present. After sitting for a couple hours it seemed like the other started to notice that I was not there for an appointment and started to pay attention to me more. I felt a little nervous, alone and scared but at the same time I felt invisible. No one tried to talk to me, sit by me or anything. Every now and then someone would look at me and start to talk in Spanish which made me believe that they were talking about me. I tried to act like it didn’t bother me but it did. I started to play with my phone in hopes that someone would call me so I could tell them to come and keep me company but the phone never rang. After doing that for a few moments I got up and went to the bathroom so that I could clam myself down a little. After spending about 10 minutes in there someone knocked on the door so I had to come out. Again it felt like everyone was looking at me. The main receptionist left the front desk and went someplace else. So to break the silence, I went to
the receptionist desk again and told the new lady why I was sitting there and again she responded in English, telling me that it was okay. The main group of people seemed not be bother by my presence in the clinic except for one man that came in with what appeared to be his wife, daughter and grandchild. This family rode what appeared to be a commuter van to the clinic. The van had writing on the side in Spanish that gave me the feeling that it was something from the community that pick up people for appointments something similar to the red cross or salvation army van service. The man was about 4ft 10in tall but the lady that was with him was about 5ft 10 and very robust in size. When the man came in the door he noticed me and would not stop staring. He continues to have a conversation with the people that were with him but he made me feel very uncomfortable. His wife sat in the row of seats that was close to the door and the girl came and in sat in the row of seat closest to the window. The man still talking in Spanish, told his wife to move over. I’m not for sure if that is what was said but the woman move to a different seat closer to the girl with the child so I assume that is what was said. After that, the man would not take his eyes off of me he just kept on talking to his wife and daughter and looking at me. The lady tried to read an article out of the newspaper to her husband and daughter and every now and then I could hear a laugh. But still the man keeps on looking at me walking closer and closer to were I was sitting. I don’t know if he never had seen a black person up close or what but I was getting panicky because I didn’t know what to expect from him. The man daughter finally got the child undress and he started to play in the waiting area, while the other families continued to talk in Spanish, still the man continued to stare and walk closer towards me. I started to
wonder to myself is this how I act when I see someone that is different? Not meaning any harm but casually checking them out too long. Then to top things off, a little Hispanic boy about five years old came over by me and looked me up and down like I was a statue or a fine painting on the wall. He looked at my shoe and then touched them and looked at his hand. So I smiled and said hi, and then he looked at my hand and face and reached over and started to rub my hand after a few second of rubbing he looked down at his hand; trying to see if his hand had changed colors. This made me feel angry because I never would have expected that from a small child. The only thing that I could conclude from the hand rubbing was that they were trying to see if my darkness would rub off. Children are curious but to put your hand on someone and then look at your own led me to believe that this was something that he had seen done before. When the mother noticed that the little boy was standing in my face starring she called him, but never did the little boy’s mother or the wife that came in with the man say anything to the older man about starring at me or moving closer and closer. So to break the trance I got up and walked outside and stood in the hallway. I remained at the clinic for about 3 more hours. The waiting area started to lose the sound of children playing and the rustle of people coming and going. I sat there finishing up my notes I started to get teary eyed, with just the thought of being alone in a strange place with no one to comfort me. I started to wonder how someone could survive without the support of their family and friends. I had thoughts about the pain, the loneness, emptiness, and the feeling of being abandoned. These were just a few of the feeling that I experience and I wondered how the Hispanics, Africans , and all of the immigrants that come to America feel when they are here without any
thing that reconnect them to their home country. With all of the different feeling going on inside of me, I had to get up and go to my car so that I could cry alone. The Hispanics seem to be a very connected community and a group of people that have some power in influence in the Grand Rapids community. I say this because the community on the Grandville Ave have continue to grow and improve over the years new schools, new clinics, barbershops and house that look like house in Mexico and stores that support the Hispanic culture and community. Whereas when African American move from a lower class upward they tend to more to the suburbs and try to assimilate in the white cultures forgetting about the community that helped them to succeed. There appears to be strong family ties and support, by the way the family units showed up at the clinic. I say that because in my family who ever can get the day off work took the child to the doctor appointment. Very rarely would mu husband and I go together except for surgeries. The parents seem to value their children freedom because never once did I notice or hear a parent raise their scold or scold their child while I was there. The parents seem to be proud of the heritage which is show and how they continue to dress their children in clothing that reflect their culture. Little boy with cowboy boot and girls with bright colored skirt that was embroider in fiesta designed. This was a rewarding experience that I probably would not have taken if it was not for this class. I learned a lot and I’m eager learning more. I student Spanish for four years and never used the language. I’m optimistic about finding a group of Spanish speaking people that I can interact with and learn more about their culture and learn to communicate with them better.
Cultural Competency for Social Work SW 600-02 Diversity Experience October 27, 2008 By BeverlyEdwards-Weathersby
