Amelia Fielden
Canberra, ACT, Australia

Assumptions

At the end of my jog around the lake parklands, I sink down on a bench at the Community Centre's wading pool. Nearby is an elderly gentleman, white-haired and white-skinned, relaxing on a folding chair facing the pool. The adjacent bench is occupied by an elderly lady wearing baggy shorts and a T-shirt. In looks she might be his twin, but in manner she seems to be his spouse. Beside her are spread various art supplies. She holds a small canvas and is painting the scene in front of her with concentration.

I assume that the couple has come to this location to enjoy, and in her case to record, the colourful sight of a myriad of young children playing in and out of the large expanse of shallow water.

Then from out of the crowd a very small person approaches the artist. In the politically incorrect olden days of Australia, he or she would have been dubbed a picaninny. On skin the rich tones of mahogany, the only clothing is a bright blue swim nappy. The child's head of tight black curls rests on the lady's pale knees as a little voice mumbles "wanna cookie."

appalled
that I wanted to study
Japanese
my uncle said, I fought
those bastards in the war