Understanding My Neighbor

As I booted a man with a broken-down truck
  from our parking lot, the man without
  a home or food shared with me,

  ‘Most people don’t understand.’
  

He was right.  I don’t understand.

But rather than listening to his truth,

  I turn to my addled brain, trusting its

  contorted and highly specious process

  to elucidate for me the answers I desire.

Before you decide these thoughts outlandish,

  consider how our brains treat lack of knowledge.

  Our brains do not tolerate voids in understanding.

  They fill empty space to help us make sense of life.

It is in this process of filling this intolerable void that

  we dredge our own mysteries, our unconscious mind,

  and in so doing welcome specters unknown to ourselves.

Our bias and prejudice thrive in the shadow of anonymity.

  Untethered to the realities corroborated by evidence,

  our biases reign…entirely outside our awareness.

Our implicit biases, and we all have them,

  are inculcated in us from early childhood,

  reinforced by family, community, religion, 

  media, political and economic institutions.

And the unique way in which our brains perform

  renders us, quite literally, blind to our own biases.

  We cannot see our biases yet are controlled by them.

Returning now to the story, stirred by

  the recognition that I do not understand

  the circumstances of my unhoused neighbors.

Aware of my brain’s inability to provide answers,

  I wonder if I might ask the person who does know,

  my neighbor.