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I looked over and saw a boy, no more than 18 years old, sitting on his bike. He waited for my reaction, his foot poised on the pedal in case I decided to chase him. I hadn’t provoked him. He was half my size, his English was barely up to the task of expressing his racism, yet he’d decided to do this with his time. It was so absurd that I started laughing.
Steve QJ
Aza Y. Alam
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Brillliant response !
Exploring the entanglements of gender, race and class during this era of the Eurokleptocene. Let’s do better, one story, one learning, one comment at a time.
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