https://medium.com/@clxddxgh/dear-settled-people-we-need-to-talk-5e32c0797881
Dear settled people: we need to talk.
I was four years old the first time I remember being discernibly aware that I was different. A girl in my class was having a birthday party, a party that we were all invited to. But when I showed up with my mother I was asked to leave. My friends mother had nothing against us you see- she’d just rather we weren’t there. She “didn’t want any trouble”. I remember that particular incident, not because it was particularly momentous,not because of how particularly ridiculous it was that she thought a four year old girl was interested in causing trouble, but because when we returned home that afternoon I saw my mother cry for the first and only time. Crying isn’t something that we travellers do, it’s a sign of weakness even in children. So to see my mother, an adult, someone who was supposed to be unshakeable, cry over something that hadn’t even really bothered me, frightened me. I didn’t know then what she did- that what had happened wasn’t a singular trivial event but rather a symptom of a larger problem. A problem that 18 years later I still haven’t managed to escape.
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I loved it taught it was great, articulate & moving.