LOST: a scared little white boy in the big smoke

 Let me begin by saying that I honestly believe that I am one of the least judgemental, least prejudiced and most open-minded people going round the southside of the mighty Yarra. But there's something inescapable, unavoidable and deep within that creeps up on me every so often...

My parents aren't racist. My childhood chums aren't K.K.K members. My favourite book growing up wasn't Mein Kampf... so why, why, WHY do I feel these occasional surges of racism from deep within me? It happens when I least expect it - i'll be on a tram, lining up to grab some sushi at Melbourne Central, passing through the quadrangle at uni when BAM! it hits. It's this horrible, defensive, frightened feeling when I realise that I can't actually see any Caucasian people. I know i'm going to be villified for saying it, but it happens and I might as well be honest about it.

 Please don't take me as a supporter of Abbot's ridiculous "stop the boats" mentality... but I can't deny the strange feeling I get when I'm waiting for a train at Melbourne Central and can't understand any of the languages being spoken around me. I honestly think it's a deep, inbuilt defense mechanism that's inside of us all, this natural discomfort - a kind of fear of the unknown.

We've all felt lost in foreign surroundings (I think it's a vital part of learning and growing), but sometimes I think we're taken aback when we feel this in places that are usually familiar to us - and I think that's ok. But in this day and age, we just need to suck it up and accept it. We (...or am I just referring to myself here?) can't go on living life in that idealised, cordoned-off little white-bread suburban bubble forever.