On Sundays my son works backstage doing tech for a church in Wan Chai. The dress code for the production team is all black, allowing them to disappear into the shadows. The goal is to be completely inconspicuous while directing the audience to those on stage by controlling the light and sound.
Late Friday I checked my calendar to confirm an invitation for the weekend and realise this Sunday won’t be a good day for a teenager to wear head-to-toe black while commuting across Hong Kong. Instead of shielding him with invisibility, it might draw unwanted attention his way.
I send him a slightly panicked SMS with reminders to wear bright colours, to stash his work clothes in a bag to change into when he’s safely at church. Don’t wear a hat. Pay attention to your surroundings. Grab a white mask to wear on the MTR, not a black one.
Immediately he messages me back, I already know, Mom.
Of course he does. He’s the one who has been detained and searched more than once when he stepped out on a dinner break, his youth and big backpack suspicious regardless of wardrobe choices. He’s the one who knows the sting from just a hint of tear gas, being in the wrong place at the wrong time on another Sunday a few years back, simply trying to get home on the MTR after attending a late afternoon church service.
I know he knows, but I’m his mom and I wear concern layered against my skin. I’m not the only mother whose thoughts focus on young people this time of year.
Today I text him thirty minutes past the time he usually walks through the door, the maximum restraint I possess expired. Just checking in, I write. Not for any specific reason. Everything good?
Seconds later our door opens and he is home, wearing a colourful Hawaiian shirt. He unburdens himself of his bag, washes his hands, and slides into place at our dinner table where we’ve been waiting to start eating. My husband casually asks if anything interesting happened today.
Nothing at all, he says between bites of food. Then he looks right at me. It was just another day, you know?
Indeed I do.
How to cite: Rose-Chase, Heather. “Just Another Day: Heather Rose-Chase.” Cha: An Asian Literary Journal, 4 Jun. 2023, chajournal.blog/2023/06/04/heather.
Heather Rose-Chase is an American author and essayist living and writing in Hong Kong. Originally from Los Angeles, she has also lived in Tokyo, Macau, and Shanghai with her husband and two sons. Email: hrosechase@gmail.com
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