Mia & Max grew up sheltered, went to kindergarten and then to school. They were always together, sharing joys and sorrows. It happened that Mia was exposed to subliminal, sometimes even superficial hostilities, but Max was always there to stand up for her. On the other hand, there were enough children and parents who didn’t care about Mia’s skin color. “Hold to them,” the adults advised, and so did the two children. The last year of elementary school had finally arrived. Completely surprisingly, the teacher who had accompanied Mia & Max through their entire elementary school years retired. Due to illness, it was officially said. But there were plenty of rumors that the headmistress wanted to take on a young colleague who would do anything to work in this school. However, there was no place for them. That’s why this one was made.
Already on the second day that the new teacher taught, it became apparent that she harbored a deep, inner resentment towards Mia. She made life difficult for her whenever she could and put her down in front of the whole class. Once, when it was so bad that Mia burst into tears, Max spontaneously hugged her to comfort his best friend. “There will be disciplinary proceedings,” the teacher rumbled, probably not expecting such a show of solidarity. Both Nia and Sandra were summoned to the principal. “I don’t know what’s going on in your homes, but this sexualization is totally inappropriate in a classroom,” she told the astonished mothers. “What is sexualizing about a hug?” Sandra now asked. “Kids that age don’t hug like that,” the principal explained, “Anyway, Mia is suspended from now on. That would give a completely wrong picture if we let that pass.” That ended the conversation. “I’ll also take Max out of school,” said Sandra, who no longer understood the world. So, the two came to a Montessori school that was free of racist affectations.
But at the age of 18, Mia and Max parted ways, at least in terms of education. Mia started studying at the TU, Max at the Boku. One day Max went to a party with a fellow student. The girl seemed eloquent, charming and cosmopolitan. “Maybe there could be more of this,” Max thought to himself, because after all they studied the same thing and so they must have the same interests, at least partially. He automatically assumed that they also shared their world views. But he was taught better. They arrived at the party, looked around at the guests and finally Max spotted Mia, who already seemed to be having a great time. At least she was engaged in a lively conversation. “Mia?” he said shyly, sounding like a question. It wasn’t referring to the fact that he wasn’t sure if it was her, but whether their friendship was still as deep and heartfelt as before, but from Mia’s reaction he could clearly see that that was the case. The moment she recognized him, a spontaneous laugh lit her face, so they walked towards each other and hugged. They both knew this, their friendship was something very special, no matter how often they saw each other or how far apart they were. “It’s so good to see you again,” said Max. “Really?” he heard a cutting but familiar voice behind him at that moment. Instinctively he let go of Mia and turned to his companion. “I didn’t think that you would get involved with bimbos,” she explained spitefully, “And that, where you have me as your companion.” Max looked at her as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Had he actually assumed until a few minutes ago that this woman could be of interest to him? Would he have ever suspected that behind her nice, appealing manner she was hiding such abysmal racism? Although, by now he should have gotten used to it. This type of discrimination can be found anywhere and anytime. He was to be confronted wherever he appeared. So, he straightened his shoulders, took Mia’s hand and turned to the woman he’d brought to the party with. “This is Mia, my best friend,” he said, looking her straight in the eyes, “she’s not a bimbo, but a great woman who has her home here, just like you. But what makes you different is that she has heart and brain. Which you obviously completely lack.” But this treatment seemed to leave her cold. “I’m right,” she declared, “Black people are not people. We are the master race, so they all have to go away.” “The only one don’t belong here is you,” the hostess explained calmly. She had overheard everything. The addressee left the party in a rage.
“You can drive them away, stand up to them, but we’ll probably never get rid of them completely,” said Max. “Maybe, but that’s why it’s all the more important to fight racism wherever we encounter it, not to watch, not to allow it, that’s why it’s okay,” said the hostess. It was good to know that there were people like that too. More than one hoped, sometimes.