Out of the Mouths of Drunks

Americans

More than forty years ago Irani nationals, mostly students in American colleges, demonstrated in the United States during the lead-up to the Iranian Revolution of 1979. Some of the demonstrations were in support of the Shah, Iran's word for "king." And some were against. In Oklahoma where I lived, the demonstrations were largely ignored. Iran was far away and we had our own issues.

Several different factions in Iran revolted against the Shah. The faction that ended up in power were Islamists. They established an Islamic republic under the Grand Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini. The Shah fled to the United States. To try the Shah for alleged crimes by his secret police against citizens of Iran, Iran sought extradition. It was denied. On November 4, 1979, Irani college students, members of Muslim Students of the Imam Khomeini Line, invaded the American Embassy in Tehran and held 52 American diplomats and civilians hostage for the next 444 days.

In 1980, Americans were being held hostage in the American Embassy in Tehran, Iran. American media coverage of the hostages took up more than 20 percent of all television news. Walter Cronkite ended his news show each evening by saying how many days the hostages had been captive. Public sentiment against Iran was high. People waved their patriotism at every opportunity.

I was a single mother. My son was five.

I drove 52 miles one-way five days a week to work. I was the Night Manager of a Taco Bell in Stillwater, Oklahoma.

Earlier during the Hostage Crisis, I'd worked at a Taco Bell in Oklahoma City. While there, I'd had to limit one of my employees to the back of the store because he was Irani and customers were being rude to him. He was a member of the Baha'i Faith and couldn't return to Iran because the Islamic government there was persecuting the Baha'i. Most of his family had been able to get out of Iran safely, but they were scattered -- some in the U.S., some in Europe.

Stillwater is a college town about an hour and a half northeast of Oklahoma City. Home of Oklahoma State University, a Land-Grant school noted for its Veterinary College and agriculture, engineering, and technology degrees. In 1980 the school was predominantly white. To be fair, the town of Stillwater was probably even more white. Its population of foreign nationals mostly limited to people attached in one way or another to the university.

The Taco Bell I worked in was at the end of "the strip" -- a street going south from the OSU campus, liberally lined on both sides with inexpensive restaurants and beer bars. Usually, after 10 p.m. most of our business was students. People who had been drinking, had the munchies, or were just hungry and tired after a long day working or studying.

One night the store was fairly empty, only two young men quietly eating by the window. A group of boisterous students entered. Eight of them, evenly divided male and female. All white. They got their food and sat at table in the middle of the room. Then they spotted the two young men, noted their olive-toned skin. At first their talk, though obviously about the two men by the window, was quiet enough we couldn't understand what they were saying.

But as they got progressively louder and more aggressive, the two diners near the window began to show signs of discomfort. And I got more uncomfortable.

Now it wouldn't have been the first time I had had to step in and ask someone to leave the store because of inappropriate behavior. And if it came to that, it wouldn't have been the first time I had to call the police.

As tension continued to rise another customer entered the store. He was so drunk he could hardly stay upright as he ordered at the counter.

The abusive group got to their feet as one.

The room went silent. The wobbly man at the counter stopped digging in his pockets to find money to pay for his food and focused as best he could on the threatening group. I, my staff, and the targeted young men, stopped what we were doing, afraid to see what would happen next.

The bully-group glared at the men by the window and launched into a loud, belligerent rendition of "God Bless America." The young drunk watched them storm out of the store.

"Hell, they're drunker 'n I am," he said.

He had no idea why we all broke out in relieved laughter.


Things to think about:
Why would they assume someone is not an American based on the color of their skin? Or their accent?

Americans come in all colors and from all parts of the world. Heck, those Americans from up north have a hard time understanding Americans from the south.

Now, more than ever, we need to be kind.