Dear White People,
I need our help. I’ve
been reading our responses to Charlottesville……and I don’t know
how to talk to us.
When did we become so fragile? What was the actual point in
our shared lives where I had to start expending copious amounts of energy picking just the right sequence of words so as to avoid hurting our feelings when I speak about basic human
rights? When was the exact moment that logic shifted, and I suddenly had to
start worrying about putting us on the defensive when asking why we’re no
longer adhering to common human decency in everyday life?
I mean. I get it. At least once a day I still find myself tip-toeing along the eggshell edge of my privilege.
I mean. I get it. At least once a day I still find myself tip-toeing along the eggshell edge of my privilege.
“Enough
already!”
“Take a freaking
moment to celebrate that baby step. Don’t burn bridges. You won!.....ish…..”
“You can’t
be talking about me. Don’t you see I’m one of the good ones? I’m fighting for YOU!”
Because it’s uncomfortable. Because sometimes it’s hard to
hear their message over my screams of how hard I had to work, and how much I had
to sacrifice just to lead this life I'm living. Because part of me is writing this now because I’m a flawed human being who
still wants to get some credit for being a good white dude, even though I know
its asinine to feel like credit is due. Because our books correctly filled
our heads with the great accomplishments of white men in American
history. Because it's heartbreaking to discover those books also left out the part where so many
of our white heroes were also inhumane monsters who proactively created systems to
keep people of color as less than human - that’s not a sexy, pride-inducing
story.
I’m guilty of it far more frequently than I want to be. But
when I hear these thoughts sneaking up into my consciousness, I stop talking. I
start listening. Ahhhhhh yes…….I’m going to get educated today! Because part of accepting that privilege is real, and not a dirty word, also requires acknowledging that my privilege-awareness
does not absolve me from perpetuating the social dynamics that brought us to
this contentious state to begin with.
But good LORD, we are wearing me out. I’m physically drained.
People of color don’t get enough credit for their stamina. They must be
exhausted.
Our response to Charlottesville needs to be better.
Stronger. More emphatically in agreement that white supremacy is evil, and people
who wave that flag proudly are piss poor Americans at best – horrible people,
more likely. But instead our response is "there was violence on both sides"? My
people! LET OUR EGO GO!
I’ve never been a fan of violence. I’ve been small my whole
life – violence was never on my side. But generally speaking, white people love
it. In particular, white Americans love it. We love violence more than any
other subset of people in the world. We love it so much that we made violence the most profitable industry in the history of the world. I blame John
Wayne and Rocky Marciano. They made it so damn cool.
I point out our love for violence to ask this question. Dear white America – when, in our love of all
things American Machismo, did it stop being okay to punch a Nazi? Our love for
violence was practically built on Hollywood’s ability to tap into our
collective joy at watching Americans punching Nazis. For the sake of consistency, what the hell just happened?
Have we become SO fragile in our egocentric state that we
now have to defend Nazis, on American soil, after an act of domestic terrorism because
Anti-FA got violent too?
Help me. Help me understand how to talk to us. Because we’re
just not getting it, and I’m tired.
