Removed as a minor part 1
A story like this usually starts with an African kid living in absolute poverty, dreaming of a bright future in a Northern American country. But I was not that one. In fact, in a story like this, I should probably start by bashing my home country than in the end say how much I still love it (even though it is expected that I would never go there again). While this might make a good movie, it was not my story.
I was a moderately bright 8-year-old. I was doing well in school. I guess because I was the only one studying non-Asian at the time. But my parents were really fascinated by the Asian parents so I guess that it influenced my upbringing. I grew up playing piano till I refused to play. I rebelled against this passive instrument by playing guitar. That was my way of pissing off my parents I guess. I went to swimming lessons, had good grades (If you haven’t figured by now) and I watched anime (when I was allowed because my Christian parents would see demons everywhere). The day when I learned that we would be moving to Canada, I remember coming back from school with 3 buttons missing from my shirt and some blood on my front pocket. With small leaves and dust stuffed into my dirty tangled afro I looked at my mom with the proudest look.
I think that I was waiting for her to hug me and be like “are you hurt? Where’s that blood coming from?” but that’s what white parents do in family movies, not what my Indian mom did. Instead, she slapped me and told me to shower then do my homework. Later that night I heard her talking to my dad about how the teacher called earlier saying that I fought with Vincent. I wanted my mom to ask me what happened. I wanted her to ask where the blood was coming from so I could reply: “It’s not mine! It’s the blood of my enemy!” while in reality I was bleeding too, just that Vincent bled from the elbow which got onto my shirt while I bled from the knee which got onto his shorts. I guess it was fair game.
When my mom announced me that we were moving to Canada she was still mad at me. So at dinner she told me that I would not go to Canada if you did not finish your homework. Yes! That’s how she said it, that’s how she introduced it. Probably one of the most important topics of my life. So I replied : “What is…