Classmates made fun of his seaweed sandwich
"Dad," youngest said quietly at the dinner table, "some people made fun of my food today."
All the memories came flooding back. I told him when I was a kid, sometimes A-Ma packed cold chicken legs in my lunchbox. Although I loved chicken, I felt different from those with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (back then it was okay to bring in . . .
Rejecting my ethnicity exposed a childhood insecurity with being different
“Dad, why do you look different from us?” my son asked, over dinner.
“Whaddya mean?” I replied, glancing at some stir-fried bok choy.
“You're darker than us,” he said, comparing my skin tone to his and his brother’s. “Why is that?”
“Um,” I stuttered, “the ingredients that A-Kong and A-Ma made me with are a bit different than the . . .
Veiled remarks allow bigots to discount their prejudiced behaviour
We sauntered along the sidewalk, mature trees overhanging narrow street, morning air already muggy. Aunty stopped briefly to chat with a friend. Built close to the road, their old Victorian homes foster interaction between neighbours.
“I'll meet you at the coffee shop,” she said.
“Sure,” I cheerfully replied. My wife and I slowly ferried . . .