Susan Boyle & the Nature of Prejudice

So what did I learn this week that will stay with me and inform my instincts and reform my judgments? Like so much of the English-speaking world, I heard Susan Boyle on Britain's Got Talent sing. She sang, I Dreamed a Dream from Les Miserable's. And as Mohammad Ali used to say she "shocked the world." Out came this 47-year-old woman from a village in Scotland. She was dumpy and frumpy looking. She was clearly not a candidate for Britain's Next Hot Model (if such a show exists). She didn't look like she would be anything but the butt of some harsh jokes.

Simon Cowell, who will never be mistaken for St Francis, asked her what her dream was and it was to sing, she replied. So naturally, with the tact of Dr. Phil, he asked rhetorically how that was working for her and why she wasn't already a star? "Haven't been getting the chance so far," she replied. The judges sat back with smirks, not even barely disguised, and she began to sing.

From the first note, she had them--and they were truly had. Such beauty came out of her unremarkable face. Her phrasing, her tone, the drama, the selling of the song--but without hamming it up--just blew everyone away. The judges were smiling, laughing, I think, at themselves. The audience was on its feet cheering and clapping. There were tears. Mine included. They all looked as if a miracle had happened. They could not have appeared more surprised if a lump of clay had formed itself into a person and began to sing like an angel. Which is pretty much exactly what happened.

The sad truth is we do judge books by their covers. We do not expect beauty and excellence from ordinary people or ordinary looking people. We expect beautiful people to be talented and when they are not, they get judged harshly. We expect ordinary looking people to be ordinary and when they are not--we are surprised. We look at people and make assumptions about their talent or intelligence, their wit or their goodness from what they show on the outside. This is prejudice in its purest form.

When Mr. Smith goes to Washington, he is supposed to fail. A Fair Lady cannot be made of a Cockney girl selling flowers on the street. We read and hear the story of the Ugly Duckling and we see the example of Beauty and the Beast--and even children know that there is beauty buried in the beast. We see, we read, we hear, but when we grow up, we don't remember. These remain only fairly tales. When they become demonstrably true, we are astounded.

I know that this is perilously close to populism, but ordinary people are often capable of extraordinary acts or both artistic and moral beauty. This is such a simple lesson, but so hard to remember and live by. So thank you Susan Boyle for reminding me to keep my heart open wider than my eyes and to fight every kind of prejudice on race, religion, ethnicity, sexuality, and our arbitrary standards of beauty.
©2009 Jonathan Dobrer
www.Dobrer.org