Thus the sign in huge orange, white, and green lettering on the chest of a black T-shirt worn by a blond man in his late teens. Could he be Irish? The sign delights me on a gorgeous day, but then I realize that the man is most likely not foreign. We just walked past each other in front of the Croatian National Theater, of all places. And it is quite likely that he does not understand the message he is carrying around all that well. As it is, the T-shirt is striking enough, which is perhaps all that matters to him. “Rise above hate,” I mumble to myself in the end so as to check my rambling mind. Coming out of my own mouth, the wise words bring a smile to my face.