Where else but behind the wheel would rideshare driver Frederick White be? Photo by Alice Williams
By Frederick L. White
In April 2016, I became a rideshare driver and since then have logged more than 4,000 trips and carried between 5,000 and 6,000 people from every continent. The breadth and depth of my riders has created many opportunities to share the Faith both through direct and indirect methods.
To facilitate teaching, I have Bahá’í pamphlets in the rear seat pockets with other reading material. I have also learned to ask questions of the riders that may lead to meaningful conversations. Although I do not know when a rider will be receptive to having a meaningful conversation, my experience is that most of the time it is possible to share a transformative concept of the Faith even where there is not the opportunity to discuss Bahá’u’lláh directly.
Each ride and conversation has its own arc. For example, I have found that many conversations with young people find traction with an introduction of the “two-fold moral purpose” of developing our own potentialities and working toward the transformation of society, giving a name to their aspirations.
Many if not most riders ask about rideshare driving experiences, generally looking for a negative story. Alas, I have only positive stories to share. One that has opened hearts and minds to meaningful conversations came early in my driving career while taking a Russian family — father, mother and daughter — on a 20-mile ride on a windy road.
The daughter suffers from a debilitating disease akin to cerebral palsy. The entire ride was highlighted by the father pouring out unconditional love to his little girl so that she could be calm and enjoy the ride to the beach. This story has created an environment to share the principles of the essential oneness of mankind because the expression of the father’s love contrasts with the stereotypes of the Russian male forged during the Cold War.
The presence of a pamphlet can also lead to interesting opportunities. I picked up three riders at a Los Angeles-area hotel; the riders were two Haitians and one American, all working for a Haitian nongovernmental organization. Seeing the pamphlet, one of the Haitian women asked if I am a Bahá’í. She then told me that one of the employees in Haiti is a Bahá’í.
Our conversation centered around the principle of universal education and the preference to educate the daughter if only one child can be educated. As we drew near the airport, the American woman stated she had recently become acquainted with a Bahá’í in Washington, DC, a person who had been a close friend of my mother’s when she was alive. I tell this story when questions of connections arise, and often we then have conversations related to the Faith.
How does a devotional take place in a moving car? Picking up a rider from a hospital always presents an opportunity to offer prayers for healing. In most cases this occurs in the privacy of my chamber. But one rider, who during a 60-minute trip had outlined his current physical and psychological illnesses, asked to hear a prayer now. After reciting the prayer beginning “Thy Name is my healing …” we then continued with an exploration of the relationship with God. Reciting passages from and discussion of these passages gave the rider a sense of well-being and the comfort of knowing that his relationship with God wasn’t defined by what church building he did or did not attend.
Sometimes what I believe to be the generosity and mercy of Bahá’u’lláh directs the interactions. One of my most moving experiences occurred when l learned the destination was Los Angeles International Airport and was thinking, “Not again. I just got out of that pit.” The rider got into the car with a distracted hello and returned to his telephone call.
After he finished his phone call, I learned he was going to Cleveland, Ohio, for his uncle’s funeral. He then asked what I do besides driving. I replied I served my religious community as the treasurer of an elected Regional Bahá’í Council.
This led to a brief introduction of the Faith, followed by the question of how we raised funds. (He had been a minister.) I introduced both the Right of God and sacrificial giving, concepts he found not only revolutionary but inconceivable.
As we pressed on, he lamented about the condition of the world — its natural disasters but also the dysfunctions of society. He described the condition of the world as one where material assets have outstripped the spiritual ones; in other words, a world out of balance.
I shared thoughts related to the adolescence of mankind and the necessity of going through painful steps to achieve the Kingdom of God on earth. We further explored the Bahá’í concepts of life after death and our continuing relationship with those who have passed. He asked for my card when he left the car. The generosity and mercy of Bahá’u’lláh allowed my soul to be refreshed and my spirit given new vigor.
Keeping in mind the principles of the Faith and showing genuine concern for the rider creates opportunities to directly and indirectly teach the Cause — and meet our biases and prejudices so that we can be better embodiments of virtues of the Cause.