Cases like the Trayvon Martin killing which occur because of profiling, whether it is racial profiling, class profiling, ethnic or religious profiling, reveal the unspeakable horror that results from looking at the outside of a person rather than the inside. With what ease we wag fingers, however, then turn around and immediately form our own opinions about people by what they wear, how they talk, or what size they are.
I just heard this morning on ESPN about a defensive line coach that is having lap band surgery because he doesn’t think he will get a head coaching job unless he loses weight.
The movie didn’t bring it out as much, but the book Moneyball by Michael Lewis (2003) revealed the almost insurmountable tension between the traditional baseball scouts and the new statistically oriented management over what potential ballplayers looked like. The scouts were choosing future draftees on the basis of their appearance as opposed to their real performance. It was enough to kill someone’s future in professional baseball to just say, “He doesn’t look like a ball player.”
Another video from Britain’s Got Talent has gone viral, although it is the same story, third verse! Contestants who are unattractive show amazing talent that shocks their mockers. You may remember Paul Potts, the mobile phone salesman and then Susan Boyle, the frumpy forty-seven year old housewife; well now there is Charlotte and Jonathan, an unlikely teenage duo who even bring Simon Cowell to his feet in applause. (Click on these links if you want to see what happened.)
The triumph of these people who do not look like stars always brings tears to my eyes, but I’m embarrassed at the same time that I am one of those who might not have even given them a chance.
I also wonder why this happens often in the UK, and could it ever happen on American Idol?
Hoodies aren’t that big of a deal! I saw Paris Hilton in a pink hoodie on an airplane from Los Angeles a couple of years ago. I actually asked for one at Christmas this year—not because of Paris Hilton—and received a nice Under Armour brand hoodie which I wear a lot in cooler weather.
But apparently, if you are the wrong color in the wrong neighborhood, hoodies can be dangerous because we judge people by their hoodies.
Jesus looked at the right-wing terrorist and saw a disciple; he looked at the hated IRS guy and saw a disciple; he looked at some pretty simple fishermen and saw disciples; he looked at outcast women and saw disciples; he looked at cripples and beggars and saw disciples. He looked at Pharisees and saw disciples. He looked at foreigners and saw disciples.
If we look at a person and see anything other than a person whom Jesus loves and died for, then we are moving toward the camp of profiling, of bigotry, and of hate crimes.
We might actually be looking at Jesus with his hoodie on—and never see him!
Mark's Blog 
Loved this post. On a little tangent, Jesus probably wore hoodies. Ancient cloaks often had hoods, and the Celtic lacerna–essentially a black (or unbleached?) wool cloak worn as a primitive hoodie–seems to have been popular throughout the 1st Century Roman Empire. During the late Middle Ages and Renaissance, hoodies were just good fashion. There are portraits of Petrarch and Dante wearing them. Not to forget the cowls and hoods worn by monks and mendicant friars: see the famous statue of Savonarola, a Domenican reformer, for example. Hoodies will always be around because they can be relatively cheap, and they are functional. This bourgeois panic about hoodies is…well…just bourgeois. I volunteer in the poorest zip code in Canada, a very dangerous neighbourhood that had a double-stabbing last week two blocks from where I work. I wear hoodies all the time. Sure, there are gang colours, but nobody gets beaten up or stabbed for wearing a hoodie from Old Navy or Wal-Mart. While fashion may be cited as a cause, it is never the real cause of violence, and it is naive to think so. Violence begins through a combination of factors—societal and individual, but mostly because of the criminal, sinful impulses in our hearts.