Walking to school allows me to see the students for the first time and them see me but not so much me as kiwi, white skinned and curly haired, she asks me if I notice them, I look around and tell her, yes, she’s like a star but kiwi says she doesn’t like it, and so we walk, following the stream of checkered uniforms and multi colored umbrellas, counting the number of head turns and too short skirts, one by one.
I tell kiwi I guess I’m lucky I blend in, but this is the only time in my life it’s worked in my favor.
We talk about racism in America.
At the end kiwi tells me I sound angry and bitter and I tell her I just feel very passionate about the subject. She tells me about the Maori who were nearly wiped out from New Zealand, subjected to little more than slaves, and how even today they live in poverty and are a bit rough. I tell her of course it’s not that bad but still frustrating.
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