Not Eugene Terreblanche

15 Sep

We have many types of people from all over the multiverse dwelling in Glossolalia, even here in Darfville.  Several of my neighbours are of course Jutes, and only yesterday I saw an Angle AND a Saxon living in perfect harmony (in the one body, even).  I regularly nod at Normans and Picts.  Trevgene is staffed by many technicians liberated during the war between the states, though they tend to keep to themselves in their fortified compounds, as I tend to do in mine.

However, multi-culturalism is not always easy, and it does no favours to anyone to sweep problems under the carpet.  It is only through honest discourse that we can work through problems.

This morning Trevor was there again, thinking he was cool, cavorting at the train station with the big African guys.  They were sitting on the stairs, blocking the way, forcing the commuters to walk in the gap between them.  Trevor was laughing with them, sneering at the the honest folk who have to go to work each day.  I confess, I was a little scared.  I shouldn’t have been, but I was.  Intellectually, I can accept that everyone has the right to speak in their own language, and just because people are large and look different, does not mean I should expect the worst.  However, I cannot help it.

I was intimidated, and I was angry.  I can’t stand the way they speak in Afrikaans to each other, and bully all the little black kids.

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It is lonely in Glossolalia - come scream with us

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