There is no amount of being a privileged do-gooder that will do anyone any good if people can’t respectfully co-exist without entirely erasing each other—physically, geographically, economically, psychically—in the name of progress.
* Airea D. Matthews *
I didn’t want to be judged or ‘poored’, and I knew I was vulnerable to both. So, I vowed to do whatever was necessary to resist the implication and belong, even if it meant being aggressively fake, asking for things I knew my mother couldn’t afford or flat-out lying to my friends.
I am at the tiny police base in my parents’ neighborhood in Kuala Lumpur. I’ve come to report the loss of my Identity Card, a document Malaysians must carry at all times.
My daughter has her father’s white skin, her grandfather’s dark curls, but nobody is sure how she got her blue eyes.
I am writing from the country of my childhood and adolescence, the place that inspires everything I write, the place that invigorates and exhausts and devastates me like no other place on earth.