From September 2005:
Who I’d Like To Meet
My parents at my age, 22, when they took the time to set aside their lives in order to ready themselves for a 2nd child.
My girlfriend’s parents when they did the same for her.
Or myself in a former life, or when double-digits were a big thing to me.
When my older brother’s birthday (10 days after mine) was celebrated on my birthday, Oct. 4th, and we’d blow out the candles together.
My sister again on her 1st day of school, or when we finally left my father and she was going through a very crucial period in her childhood.
How I wish I could take that back and at the same time how I’ll never regret it for the rest of my life.
Or the 3rd grade, how I could go back to those school days and play tag—You’re it!—for the rest of my childhood, or at least until the teacher calls us in from recess.
Those were my happiest moments as a young boy, and I’ll always remember the girl who turned my world upside down that Summer in 1993.
And her older brother who pulled her away from me when we were just starting to get close. Because I am white.
And how I could never understand. Because I am white. And the irony of that.
What an interesting time it is to be in America.