Story Time: Haole

Author J.L. Murray

by J.L. Murray

The bus is packed. I stand with my shopping bag dangling from my elbow. The old Chinese people look up at me curiously. One old woman points at me and says something to her husband in Chinese, laughing. I’m a novelty. The only Haole. The younger Asians don’t look at me, giving me my privacy. I appreciate it. I mind my own business. When some people get off in Chinatown I sit down next to a small woman with straight black hair. She pulls her purse closer to her body and groans, irritated. I wait for my stop and mind my own business.

I take my kids to the zoo on Saturday. I hate going to Waikiki, but they like the animals. I like them, too, but I don’t like looking at the pink, sweaty people that wave at me like I’m a long, lost friend. I try not to look at them. It doesn’t make sense that I don’t like white people anymore, like it’s myself I’m hating. But they embarrass me, like a relative in a nice restaurant that gets drunk and asks why they gave him two forks. Continue reading “Story Time: Haole”

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