School lunches were always a bit of a trial in my youth. At the time, Asians were not common in our small school district; those that sat in class with us had the advantage in that they were aggressively, proactively banana without any of the inhibitions or embarrassment that came with uncomfortable racial awarenesses. Banana — yellow on the outside, white on the inside — was for them not so much a habit as it was a state of being. Smaller children would ask them, “Are you Asian?” and they would answer, honestly bewildered, “No.”