I keep thinking back to the time just before and at the very beginning of the coronavirus pandemic.

The November before the pandemic, I was at a horrible conference in New Orleans. I took a walk on the Friday morning of the conference to escape the insufferable architecture professors there with me. I wound up at a cafe near the new convention center, a small local joint known for its omelettes. While I was eating, a very small, cheery, heavy set woman in a blue t-shirt came in and very sheepishly raised her voice a bit to get everyone’s attention. She awkwardly explained in somewhat broken English that in celebration of international influenza awareness day, the Mexican Consulate (conveniently located right next door) was offering free flu shots to anyone who would like one.

The room fell silent, and some guy in a red hat (no joke) said loudly “The last place I’d go to get a shot is the dirty fucking Mexican embassy.” A bunch of people in the cafe laughed. I stood up in the awkward silence and in my very best booming teacher voice turned to the woman and said, “Gracias, Senora. Tu amilibidad es infinita.” She smiled. Then I turned to the red hat and said in a more booming voice, “You’re a fucking idiot. You realize that these folks are in OUR country handing out vaccinations to OUR citizens because OUR government doesn’t do it. I guess that’s one thing that makes your version of America so fucking great. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

I could tell, the red hat was flabbergasted. Literally, his mouth was agape. I left and walked next door for the first flu shot of my life. I chatted with the lady in the blue t-shirt for a long time, and she shared some very sad stories about being a Mexican consul worker in the United States. Amazing how, despite how hostilely this country treats folks from Mexico that they are willing to look after American citizens with kindness.

A few months later, during the pandemic, I took a walk to my local grocery store. News reports from across the country were showing empty shelves and shortages of nearly everything. I was shocked to walk in and find the shop on the corner full to the brim. Oddly, the store wasn’t stocked with the usual American brands, but Canadian groceries, some with the French side facing out. It was a funny, but very welcome sight. I packed up a car load of groceries and said a silent prayer on the way home for our proximity to the Canadian border, and the willingness of our Canadian neighbours to share.

Not everyone who isn’t American is an enemy. It will take some time for the Red Hats to realize that. Once they do, the damage will be done, and I fear it will be too late.

It all reminds me of my favorite t-shirt: Karma Is Real.