It’s Black or White

me as a teenager

Theme: Get if off your chest.

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Written by Melissa

When I was a teenager, I was elected onto the first ever Greenwich Young People’s Council. Part of the work we did was act as a younger version of the adult-run council, and so we sat on committees like Equal Opportunities, Housing, and Children and Young People’s Services. We also ran conferences, rallies, and raised awareness on issues such as the plight of refugees and asylum seekers. My world was basically a utopia where, what with all the hard work we were all doing, by the time I became a proper middle-aged adult, we would have successfully stamped out racism, sexism, homophobia and all those horrible judgements we unnecessarily make about others. My children would be able to grow up in a world where the content of their character is more important than which hole they would decide to put their sexual organ into, or the colour of the skin attached to that hole.

What the fuck happened? Continue reading

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Little Italy Just Got Smaller

typewriter

Theme: When something changes – good or bad. A twist of events, an unexpected turn of events, a change in the wind, weather, love, whatever.

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Written by Melissa

My friend Eva had taken me on a date to her favourite little Italian in the West Village. We walked in, her face dropped. The red brickwork New York is charmed for, painted white. Opposite the entrance, a block red stencil of a giant rolling pin standing out like Stalinist propaganda. Wire grids laden with forks hung over our heads. The excitement of being in Mamma’s dining room eroded from Eva’s eyes while being seated. The once hand-written paper menus replaced with laminated plastic typescript. I imagined what was happening between Eva’s fingertips and her parietal cortex as we were assured zilch had altered in the kitchen. But nothing special arrived with our plates of Specials. Continue reading