The Pākehā lady at the homeless shelter shoves a box of tampons into my hands.

“Here you go,” she whispers in my ear. “It’s the last one.”

I look down at my hands, wondering why she just handed me a free box of tampons. She smiles and gives me a look, like she’s just saved me from falling off a cliff. And then I realise why. I see the homeless people behind her. All brown faces. All Māori. She thinks I’m homeless.

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Courtesy: www.e-tangata.co.nz

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