“Where are you from?” 36 years in and this seemingly innocuous question still does a number on me. It comes in many guises. The coworker on the train home, the London cabbie trying to size up my football allegiance before declaring his, or the default icebreaker at the party. For most, it’s batted back effortlessly with answers well rehearsed over years of practice. For me, not so much.
Love this Julian, really great! I think the hardest questions are often the simplest. And I (continually) have to remember that 'Where are you from?' and other questions like it aren't necessarily people asking for 'just the facts' but some version of what you outline here. It's a good answer to a tough question. Well done. And it's shipped!
Happily lost! And I always thought of it as a melancholic homelessness haha... I might have to write about where I belong now that you've got me thinking existential questions. (Also I want to steal your way of weaving different languages into your piece. What a refreshing reading experience!)
Love this Julian, really great! I think the hardest questions are often the simplest. And I (continually) have to remember that 'Where are you from?' and other questions like it aren't necessarily people asking for 'just the facts' but some version of what you outline here. It's a good answer to a tough question. Well done. And it's shipped!
Happily lost! And I always thought of it as a melancholic homelessness haha... I might have to write about where I belong now that you've got me thinking existential questions. (Also I want to steal your way of weaving different languages into your piece. What a refreshing reading experience!)