See me, not my address

At the Big Kirk I am starting to get known. There's a woman with her elderly mother who I seem to have connected with. I was a wee bit late yesterday, so slipped in at the side and they had wondered where I was. It's good to have made a small connection.

As they have a couple of morning services, there's teas between them. I got talking with a member who is originally from my home town. I think I slightly shocked him that I knew about co-op divi stamps and could remember them (score on my part!). What made me really like this man was his reaction to discovering the area of my home town I am from.

It's got an interesting reputation. It's regarded as a bit rough and ready and looked down on my a fair number of people in the town. I have experienced people talking with me as an equal, intelligent, articulate person. Then they hear I'm from that area and the tone, the body language, the attitude can change in an instance. I am still the same person I was 10 seconds earlier, but they are now judging me for a postcode. That man didn't - he saw me, not the address.

Does make me wonder how much judgements are made based on where people live. They are wealthy or deprived; they are middle-class or working-class; they are keeping up appearances or are overcrowded. As soon as that happens, people are lost; individuals are disregarded. I cannot help where I was brought up and I am actually proud of where I come from. It does not define me and it should not define how I am treated, but it does. This does mean I don't do this to others. It would make me a bit of a hypocrite to do so, though.