Dear Queenie,
I was sitting at SMMC waiting to be helped. A woman at the outpatient window was taking some time, clearly trying to sort something out. Then a gentleman nearby became impatient. He wasn’t even waiting for the same service, but he started complaining loudly. Very quickly, the complaints turned into something else. He began making comments about people from the Dominican Republic, Haiti, Guyana, saying they get more service than him. Another woman joined in, and together they carried on, loud enough for everyone to hear. What struck me most is that in the area I was sitting, many of us are “from the island” in the sense that we’ve lived and worked here for decades. I know these people. We’ve built lives here. I am also an immigrant, 35 years now. And in that moment, I felt… outside. I wanted to say something. I really did. But I held back. Too often when you challenge that kind of talk, it escalates. People become more aggressive, more vicious. So I stayed quiet. And I left feeling defeated. Queenie, why is it that after giving so much to a place, you can still feel like you don’t belong? —Still Feeling Like an Outsider
Dear Still Feeling Like an Outsider,
What you experienced was not about service at a hospital. It was about frustration looking for a target. In moments like that, waiting, impatience, lack of control, some people reach for the easiest explanation available. And too often, that explanation becomes “other people.” It is not accurate. It is not fair. But it is common. Now, let’s address what stayed with you. You did not speak. And you are questioning whether that silence means something about your place in the community. It does not. Choosing not to engage in a volatile situation is not weakness. It is judgment. You assessed the environment and understood that challenging it in that moment would likely escalate, not resolve. That is awareness, not defeat. As for belonging. Thirty-five years is not temporary. It is not borrowed time. It is contribution, presence, and history. But belonging is not always confirmed by others in the moments we expect it. Sometimes, it is tested in moments like the one you experienced. The truth is, communities are not one voice. They are many. Some inclusive. Some not. Some thoughtful. Some reactive. You encountered one version. It is not the only one. Do not measure your place in a community by the loudest person in a waiting room. Measure it by the life you have built, the relationships you hold, and the consistency of your presence over time. You belong because you have stayed, contributed and lived here, not because someone recognizes it in a moment of frustration. And sometimes, the strongest response is not to engage with noise. It is to refuse to let it define your place. place. —Queenie
