Pizza Hut Conversations

Yesterday, I went to Pizza Hut. 

I love Pizza Hut.  It's one of my favorite restaurants here, especially because they have this delicious Cheeseburger pizza.  The pizza has ketchup for the sauce, little patties of burger for the meat, and then cheddar cheese, mayonnaise and mustard spread all over the top.  I don't know why cheeseburger hasn't made it to America yet; it was a great invention.  (Ok, you might think it sounds gross, but I think it's pretty tasty!)

I still had some work to do back at my house, so I ordered my cheeseburger pizza for take-out.  While I was waiting for the pizza to be ready, a very friendly local man sat down beside me.  He spoke in nearly perfect English, which is quite rare here.  He told me name was Yosep, and he spent 3 years in America from 1982 to 1985 earning his Master's degree at Stanford.  I was impressed- this simply-dressed gentleman, who is now a low, unassuming farmer, earned a Master's degree at Stanford in Agricultural Sciences, something that I will very likely never do.  He continued sharing his story. 

He hasn't returned to America in the 31 years since he graduated, but last year he applied for a visa to return to California and see his old campus.  When he sent in his application, he was quite excited for the prospect of returning to America.  When the letter from the US Embassy returned to his home, he was hoping for positive news.  Instead, his visa was rejected, purely because he was Muslim and his name is a very stereotypical Muslim name.  He was devastated: a country that shaped his life and his career was now prohibiting him from returning, purely because of his name and religion.  He ended his story by saying that America has become a dark place, and he is glad that I am here, not living in America currently.  Eventually he returned to his table, and I got my pizza and returned home. 

Although this story should be received with caution, because I'm not sure if this is true, it brings up a greater issue.  If this story is true, how prejudiced and judgmental can we be?  This gentleman gave me his number, said that he now is a farmer and a driver if I ever need to get somewhere far away, and invited me to his house for dinner the next night.  He is one of the friendliest people I've ever met.  Why would his name and religious upbringing change who he is as a person?  If it isn't true, I started to think a step deeper into his story.  If he could return to Stanford, how would he be treated while he was there?  Would people run away from him, or just stand and stare?  Would people welcome him into the same restaurants or just try to avoid him?  Would he find the same community that he did then in his classes at Stanford now?  Regardless of the validity of his story, an important lesson can be learned here. 

As I went home to eat my pizza, I started writing a song about Yosep and his situation.  We have so many things that can divide us: religion, politics, nationality, but deep down inside, we are truly all the same.  We all want the same things, we all do the same things to keep us happy, and we all hope to better ourselves, with cultural difference throughout.  We are truly all the same.  

It would be such a shame if stories like Yosep continued to happen throughout America.  You and I can't change the whole country, but we can change one person's mindset at a time, hopefully creating a country of peace and love instead of fear and hate. 

"It's just the color of my skin,
Just the name I'm given,
Just the way that I was raised,
Deep down I know we're all the same."

If we are truly all the same in the eyes of our Father, why are we not all the same in the eyes of each other?



Luke Forshey
September 29, 2016