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31st January 2020

I have been anticipating this fissure for a couple of decades.

At my dear, dear cousin’s funeral late last year. I realised there were only one or two elders around. They are nearly all gone. My generation are now the elders. I had imagined that that this moment is when we become untethered from our little islands. Set adrift again. But we still knew what to do, digging, singing, lamenting wise. That is there within. I said to my son, all the old folk are gone, me and my generation are at the top of the tree. Yes, he said and you are all English.

I want to meet someone in Harstad who is a child of immigrant.

I want to meet someone in Harstad who is Black.