What my mother told me:
I arrived in Melbourne in 1973 and lived with an Australian family. I remember walking through Shoppingtown with the family and people were looking at me. The father reached out and grabbed my hand in solidarity. I appreciated his sentiment but I was 15 and I thought “oh god, does it look worse that this old white man is holding my hand?”
I'm jotting down a family story every day over the month of March for #b03, click here to catch up on the stories I've shared so far.