White
It was hard to miss me on the lava-rocked streets of Goma, Democratic Republic of Congo, while I was working for a locally led organization, HEAL Africa. I lacked the grace of Congolese women who glided across the tumultuous terrain in high heels while I tripped over the ubiquitous black rocks.
I attended a majority white high school in the late '70s and since that time my life has been one cross-cultural bowl of spaghetti. It tastes good but is really messy, sometimes sauce all over your shirt.
I'll be honest. I get timid writing these kind of posts. I'm scared of being labeled an angry or bitter Asian. I'm scared of the emails that come in. I'm scared of being de-invited for speaking gigs