Tattoos don't last forever. They only last until the "California Raisin" stage of decomposition

For those of you that don't know, I am a part time English tutor for Somali Bantu refugees (and other assorted ethnicities) as part of my Senior Capstone at PSU. A lot of these kids are pretty sheltered because of their family life and culture, which is preserved surprisingly well amidst the pressure and madness of America. Since many of the Somali Bantu live in the same apartment complex, they are able to keep their social mores and traditions at least partially intact. This makes my experience with them all the more authentic and mutually educational. My interactions with these youth are often the subject for much of my deep thinking.

These kids are continually shocked by the absurdity of American culture. Everything from my pompadour haircut and my wafer shades to my emerald green iPod nano pique their curiosity and drive them wild with wonder. Whenever I show up for my tutoring session I'm met with flurry of questions about things I take for granted. There are usually so many questions from so many shrill voices, I can only answer a few per day. A lot of their questions are critical and paradoxical. I can't blame them for being shocked and sometimes appalled by the banality and apparent silliness of American culture. They've got the right idea.

I've always thought of myself as a social critic, but when I'm with these kids, I start to feel like another cog in the machine of American kitsch. I know very well that it's impossible to avoid feeling this way. I'm just like any other sap who was born here and existentially debates with him/herself about their conventions and socialization. The point I'm trying to make is, most of these kids I tutor are just dazzled and fascinated with me, the same way any young mind is when it's exposed to something new. Their fascination fascinates me in return. I revel in the freshness of their opinions and I relish in their criticisms. These kids are heightening my ability as a critical thinker.

I'm going to get around to the point of my story now. I got a couple of fresh tattoos on my arms on Friday night. One big rose and one "Sailor's Grave" bottle. To some of these young kids, fresh tattoos must look like temporaries out of a cracker jack box. I don't know. Either way, some 10 year old girl came up behind me while I was having a conversation and tried to scratch one of them off. She didn't mean any harm, she was just curious. She probably thought it would just smudge or flake away. Much to her surprise, they were very real. When I reeled in pain, an expression of guilt and fear crossed her face. Instead of being grumpy or cantankerous, I gently explained to her that it's a real tattoo and that no amount of scratching would make it come off.

To these kids, getting tattoos is an unfathomable act of stupidity, a vain and ridiculous expression of the grotesque. It was hard for me to get my point across to this young lady that that tattoo ink is permanent, that they would never go away. She asked me if I'd have it until I died. I replied that I'd have it until I'm dead and buried. She asked if I'd have it after my body rotted away and decomposed. I explained that after the "California Raisin" stage of decomposition, the tattoos pretty much go away. After I got done talking to her, I thought long and hard about our conversation. Kids have interesting perspectives. If nothing else, they point out some of the bizarre, absurd, and foolish elements of adult life that we often overlook or consider commonplace. For the record, I have nothing but admiration for the young minds of the world, even if I bitch and moan about overpopulation.

As adults, I believe that it's our responsibility to look to other cultures as mirrors for our own cultural absurdities. I don't expect us to act dramatically, nor feel shame, I just think we owe it to ourselves to be self-reflexive as a society. We should realize that what the west is evolving into is impossibly absurd, yet strangely awe-inspiring. Every day the west is developing a myriad of fatal faults, yet there is a poetic beauty in the antithesis. I say "embrace the whole." Take the good with the bad. We can't have a Wilco without a Nickelback. For every war that's started between different cultures or societies, there is a coinciding moment of bewilderment and strange discovery happening somewhere else in the world between two different groups of people. This example stands as one of the latter. It's not up to us to fully understand one another, but to simply try. I say "scratch the tattoo." We need to peel away the mystery in order to discover and embrace the absurd, the grotesque, and the bewildering evidence that reminds us that the human race is a holy wonder.