Once, at an informal gathering with other young married couples who would later become close friends, the discussion of undergraduate experiences came up. This gathering was held in the living room of one of the couple's houses and was packed to the rafters with all six couples and two toddlers. I was perched on the edge of a foldable black chair, sandwiched between my wife and Sterling, father to one of the girls gently assisting a toy horse navigate the perilous landscape that was the living room floor.

As the extroverts in the group vied for speaking time, I retreated into myself for a moment, taking the opportunity to reflect on my experience at university. Suddenly – to my mind at least – I heard someone snarl, “Those Ayy-shhiann students”. As the only ethnic minority in the group, my ears immediately pricked up as I noted that the source of this rant was from Liesl, mother to the more rambunctious of the two little girls. Liesl continued her story, voice animated and arms gesticulating wildly. Apparently, Liesl's undergraduate experience had not been quite as pleasant as others in the group. She continued, lamenting how completing projects with Asian international students was one of her worst nightmares – alas, she explained their reticence in class and inability to communicate clearly meant that she was always in charge of the group; that she was in charge of getting all the work done.

I sat there listening, completely aghast. As I felt the physical discomfort of my sitting position metamorphose into equal parts psychological and emotional discomfort, I shuffled awkwardly in my seat. Liesl, however, did not seem to notice this. Did she not realise what she was saying, and to whom she was saying it? Did she not realise that I was once one of those international students?

As she persisted with her tale, I felt a sense of rage and indignation bubbling under the surface. How could I respond? Would I address the racialised undertones of her essentialising comment? Would I suffer from momentary deafness and ignore the comment entirely? Would I pull Liesl up and in so doing, unsettle the jovial atmosphere that evening? Was there really a compromise between any of these extremes? I had mere milliseconds to decide before the moment passed.