Another reblog, I know, but… how many times must the “r” word (racism) be heard by an American to finally recognize that nation’s great, perhaps greatest, sickness, and one that can only be put squarely on individual American shoulders? I realize that racism, like misogyny, is a global Earthian sickness, not just American, but since this story is based on American “values” as expressed by white America, then it is an American disease. The cure will not come in the form of a pill, or a vaccine, but in an individual change of heart when Americans (in this case) finally realize there is absolutely nothing to be gained, in any possible way, by being racist; when they finally realize that racism is a root cause of dissension eating at the nations’s sense of “selfhood” and destroying it. This is a powerful, if sad, story. Sad mostly because too common.
May-lee Chai | Longreads | July 2018 | 15 minutes (4,118 words)
When I was a junior in college, my father, mother, and brother took a trip to Hawaii. I didn’t go because I’d been named editor-in-chief of the school newspaper and needed to be at school before the semester started. I needed to get the first issue out for freshmen orientation. I also needed the money. My parents weren’t paying for my college, and I needed every little bit of cash that I could get.
While she was in Hawaii, my mother called me at my dorm to tell me about the trip. Only recently had my mother overcome her severe fear of flying and she still had a kind of ecstatic quality to her voice that I associated with the extreme highs that followed her moments of panic or fear.
“It’s beautiful! This is my place,” she declared…
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