“Speak English you f*cking Asians,” he spat at us as he walked past.
My mother and I were talking to each other in Korean at the time. We were waiting for the train, standing next to each other on the crowded platform when it happened.
He came up nice and close. I moved to make room for him, and then he vomited up that bile before he walked away.
When the shock passed, I was angry. I try to run after him, but my mother holds me back. She is worried what he might do to me when I confront him. I don’t care. I have bile of my own I want to spew out.
It wasn’t my finest hour. As I turn to my mother, a man steps in front of me and asks me what happened. I tell him.
“I am so sorry you were subjected to that. He should not have said it.” His voice was full of regret and concern.
It wasn’t his fault. Yet there he was, apologising. He was a stranger who could have kept silent. But he didn’t. He chose to offer some comfort instead, and his kindness eased the sting.
It takes me back to another time, when such kindness made a difference.
I spent most of my childhood in Hobart, Tasmania. I was with my family in town one evening. We were just chatting to each other, when a couple of drunk youths turn up. They start to mimic us.
My father turns to them and smiles. He doesn’t want any trouble. He says “G’day.”
Suddenly they attack. We all run to the car. They follow. One starts jumping on the roof. The other starts hitting the window. I can still remember his smile as he got ready to punch the car window.
It’s not a memory I like to visit often. It’s painful and terrifying. But it’s also necessary, because I wouldn’t have fallen in love with the place and its people without it.
It’s a small community. There was a tiny write up in the local paper. I don’t think our names were mentioned, but people knew. We started getting calls. Kind people wondering if we were ok. Some even came to see us with flowers.
We were nobodies from nowhere. Strangers in their community. Yet there were people who cared enough to ask after us. To show that we mattered.
And it is their memory I cling to as I hear the rhetoric of division from some of our elected representatives and see stories of yet another racist attack.
We need to love harder, care more, be open to giving and receiving help because it’s the right thing to do. Because it’s the small, everyday kindnesses that will heal wounds and build a stronger community.
Yes, there are racist idiots here. There are idiots everywhere, in every country. But I cannot believe everyone is comfortable with hate. I have experienced the kindness of too many strangers to believe that.
Via the Daily Prompt: The Kindness of Strangers
Nomad Online 
12 responses to “The kindness of strangers ”
A very moving post. I am truly sorry you had to experience that. No one should have to experience that.
Keep strong and brave.. xoxo
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Thank you 🙏
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“But I cannot believe everyone is comfortable with hate. I have experienced the kindness of too many strangers to believe that” this said it all for me, I’m sorry such an awful thing happened to you but thank you for being brave enough to share it with us. I figure there will always be racist idiots around but there will also always be people like the one who stood up for you and your mother. I most definitely would have done the same if I had been there, know that wherever you are, there will be someone who has your back and if we ever cross paths, be sure that I will too. The good in the world far outweighs the bad, we just have to be brave enough to be kind. I hope you have a lovely week✨❤️
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You too 😘
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It so sad that in this day and age there are still so many bigots in this world
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I’m sorry you have to face such ignorance and prejudice, and it happens all too often. But you are right to hold on to the memories of good. It’s terrible that it takes such evil and stupidity to bring out the goodness in most people, but that seems to be the way. Last week in NZ a Syrian refugee had his fledgling plant nursery so horribly vandalised there was almost nothing salvageable. By Saturday, people were saddened and outraged enough to donate money to rebuild his nursery (and more), and several hundred turned up to a working bee, some with pots and compost and cuttings. But all with love in their hearts and a desire to show that the actions of the few will not define us. I can only imagine how terrifying it is to be a target because of my ethnicity, and I hope that you have enough good experiences to help ameliorate that fear.
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That is a sad and wonderful story about the Syrian refugee. I know he would have taken great comfort in the outpouring of care you all demonstrated. I know I would have. We all need the courage to keep being kind I think.
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🙂 It is sad (but true) that we need courage to be kind. I’ve noticed that our Human Rights Commission has started producing videos advising how to respond when we see racist attacks. Just the thought of such advice being necessary is a damning comment on our society.
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Our HRC has started a similar campaign too. I still have hope. There are some incredible people in our communities.
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So do I. But I have to constantly remind myself of Burke’s line, “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.”
We should all be the incredible people as a matter of course.
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People can be so hateful and ignorant. I’m sorry you had to deal with this, but kudos to the nice man who intervened! You keep being you. 😊
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Thank you ☺️
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