Short anecdote this week.

I was sitting on a train, getting some writing done, when I looked up the aisle to see a child walking down with his mother. As children do, he is playful slamming his hand on every chair back he passes. Until he gets to the one before mine. We make eye contact and the child tenses up and utters something in mandarin (I have no idea what he said, but if I had to bet, I’d say “foreigner!”). He then proceeds to shimmy past me, his back grazing the passenger across the aisle so as not to get to close or let me leave his line of sight.

It’s hard not to feel a bit of pride. I can only wonder what his racist parents must have told him about people like me.

I am extremely happy.