Going South
In 1965, at the age of 15, my father—along with his parents and two brothers—emigrated from a racist South Africa. His relationship with that nation, over the 42 years since, has been a complicated one. For a decade, he traveled with a South African passport and the racist complicity it advertised. Today, in the U.S., his birthplace is only present in the vague British-ness of his accent, and even that has softened over the years. ... read more
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