In the past, I've tallied up the number of Asian and African American friends I have out of curiousity. I seldom do that, but have a reason to do so just often enough so that I was fairly certain I travel in a cosmopolitan crowd. I wrote the comment above and then had a brief wave of panic come over me: "Wait! Who do I know who's Asian?" ~thinking... thinking... thinking~ Then: "OMG, Maria! Of course: she's originally from the Philippines! And then... ~thinking~ ... "And Nupur! She immigrated from India!" ~thinking.. thinking~ "And Sean! His entire family came over from Vietnam! And Katie, too! She came over as part of Operation Babylift!" Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Same thing with my black coworkers, friends, a brother-in-law, and my niece's steady, who's brilliant (we all hope they're getting hitched). The thing is: I know them; they're coworkers; they're neighbors; they're family and friends. They don't even register as Asian or African American to me unless I pause and really think about it. Which I suppose, on some level, is exactly how it should be. 
Edit history
Recommendations
0 members have recommended this reply (displayed in chronological order):
= new reply since forum marked as read