"Every one asks me what I 'think' of everything," said Spencer Brydon; "and I make answer as I can—begging or dodging the question, putting them off with any nonsense. It wouldn't matter to any of them really," he went on, "for, even were it possible to meet in that stand-and-deliver way so silly a demand on so big a subject, my 'thoughts' would still be almost altogether about something that concerns only myself."
Recently listening to Radio 4’s Classic Desert Island Discs episode with Author Malorie Blackman, one of anecdotes which struck me was a Creative Writing Tutor telling the then-aspiring writer:
I wanted someone to hit me the night my mother vomited on the bedroom floor
A series of conversational events during my time studying in a geographically small and overwhelmingly 'white' environment had changed me from someone who felt no real desire to explore my own bi-racial culture or identity to someone completely convinced that I had to, in some way, tackle it.
Can you meet the gaze of a child, can you wander over it into purest seeing, can you meet the gaze of a child and would you then see lakes of eternity in her eyes, his eyes, can you, will you, would you meet the gaze of a child and go down Moses and Mary and all the saints...