Recently, we were out somewhere when I noticed a woman in a full Arabic dress and veil, with her husband, and her two children. I watched the woman as they walked up; she didn’t speak, or make eye contact with anyone. She was careful to watch the children, and spoke to them quietly, and kept them out of the way of the other passers by. Her clothing was muted (although lovely, even if I don’t like the style), finely tailored and obviously expensive. The husband approached Mr. Manners and I to ask for directions, and I thought to myself “surely, this man is going to ask Mr. Manners and not me!”

Indeed, the man came up to me, all full of smiles and politely phrased English, to ask for directions and I assisted as best as I was able (being particularly uncertain myself but having a general idea). He thanked me, and gathered his family and moved on, with the wife trailing behind.

As I watched her walk away behind her family, I felt a flash of pity. What kind of life is that?

Then I wondered if she didn’t feel the same corresponding flash of pity for me, but for different reasons.

And I looked at her daughter, in her little yellow romper and matching hat and shoes, and I thought, what will your choice be? Will you be like so many immigrants to this country, and will you be exposed to and raised with our social values until you hit puberty, and then will you be forced into a mould that you have no real concept of? Will you look at your mother with pity or hatred when you are sixteen and you want to date and your father says unequivocally “this is not our way”? Will you ever understand that perhaps in looking for a better life your parents will end up sacrificing their values, and the values they wish to pass to you, so that you will be better than them?

I do wonder.