Lunara peeks out coyly from the bushes, careful not to show too much of herself and upset an entire society that has issues with morality. After all, we distrust even the body we were born in. But her innocence has so much more to learn. She has yet to discover her nudity is only the tip of our civilization’s problems.
Lunara knows nothing about racial prejudice. She knows that she is a First Nations woman. She feels that deep and intimate sense of belonging. But she doesn’t know she has the wrong skin color. Her skin actually has no color at all. Consider that indignity. The righteous outrage it will stir. Her people have created a paradise on earth, but to others, that fact might hardly matter. Forget the beauty of her soul. Forget the perfection of her Indigenous culture. For some people it’s the color of her skin that will matter most. How dare anyone portray her with a different complexion.
Now, what if that atypical feature is what matters most to people who think themselves the least prejudiced of all? What does that fixation on skin color say about them?
Hopefully, Lunara can teach them how racism really works. How it’s a moral absurdity—an animal emotion without any human reason.