I know from the feedback I've gotten back on Facebook that many people in my sphere seem to be very uncomfortable with me always speaking about race. I think the fact that my feed is full of information about dirty cops, lawmakers, judicial system employees, teachers, etc is annoying. Cognitive dissonance has a way of making us oblivious to the unsavory elements of the world around us. My posts keep resurrecting buried information.
I cannot be like others. Having been a weird duck my entire life, I'm ok with being the one who defies tradition, labels..hell..explanation. I guess my appearances, I seem to be a somewhat racially ambiguous female (most likely white, if one had to guess). One would then assume from my appearance that I exist in a self-made bubble of delusion.
I'm actually, from what my grandmother told me Cherokee, Dutch, Black Irish, French . She mentioned two other tribes, one was possibly Blackfeet. My grandfather, as far as I know, was Scottish, even still in possession of a Scottish last name. My Dad mentioned something about German, Native American.
I guess I get my coloring from all different types of places. My boyfriend thinks my hind end and lips speaks of the Black Irish ancestry. Even that is a bit confusing. Some say Black Irish were the enslaved and unsavory Irish. Others say it was a meeting of Black folks and Irish.
Whatever. I digress.
My appearance granted me some annoying and upsetting remarks from others, growing up. My dad was not in my life when my mom died. I knew of him. I did not know he was my dad until I was in my twenties. For most of my life, I had to deal with not so subtle inferences about my father. White kids in St. Louis liked to call me the following: Oreo, darkie, wetback, gorilla. My hair was curly and kinky. I was very tan. I had big lips and it seems, was born with a rather perky and huge hind end.
My own grandfather called me a tar baby. All the damn time. I hated him, by the way. I got the message that it was better to have no dad than one that was black or hispanic. I got the message that I was ugly.
Many times, I ran into situations where I would be asked if I was mixed. I didn't even know what that meant until I was older. When they actually asked if my dad was black, and I said no, the air would shift. Sometimes white people weren't willing to deal with me until they found out I wasn't biracial. Sometimes black people didn't want to deal with me if I wasn't. I was baffled.
Not only did I experience racism, I saw racism. When I was older, I began straightening my hair. If it was midwinter, I was just a light shade of olive, and most of the time, people just assumed I was white. Weirdly, because my face compels people to be themselves with me, I'd hear the statements that wouldn't have been said in front of minorities. Sometimes, the N word would just fly out there, and hang in the air. Usually, I was shocked, and couldn't find words. The person would then launch into their diatribe, or complaint or whatever, about black folks, minorities. I was aghast.
When I would offer feedback, finally, it was never what that person was seeking. I wasn't cosigning their bs. If I felt like being a bitch, I'd pretend I didn't understand, and make them feel like they had to explain their statements. They'd do it until they got tired, and I'd get the "you're stupid and hopeless" statements, or they'd wave their hand, dismissing me.
I had a harder time doing this with family. I'd grown up trying very hard to keep my family bonds strong, so it was harder to put my foot down with them. As time passed, I found the balls to tell them I didn't want the N word said around my daughter. She was always with me. Then, I refused to engage in a line of conversation I found distasteful. After a while, I think the few who still had views I found ignorant, just stopped sharing them with me. That was ok with me.
Since 2001, I have been speaking out about surviving homicide. My passion has always been speaking for those unable to speak for themselves. I wanted to speak to remove stigmas, and help folks to realize that although we are different and maybe affected by our experiences, we are still worth loving. We aren't really the monsters or freaks we are made out to be, although we sometimes still feel like we are.
When my government contract went under in 2007, I felt lost. I moved to Kansas, worked there at a bank. I had a nice house, great income. It wasn't really much different from the life I'd had for years. I'd had a good job, good money, stability. Still, my life was lacking.
In 2008, my sister died, and part of me died too.
I went back to school. I got the criminal justice degree to go with my experiences, to give me more credibility with victims. I began observing trials. Case studies, court cases became part of my daily reads. My classmates also provided a wealth of information.
Mentally, it takes me a while to truly "get" things. I absorb information constantly. I never know when, but suddenly it begins to compile, to gel. My experiences as a victim, as a student and teen, in the military, in college, watching trials, speaking to others, and studying cases..well..shit.
For many years, I'd believed that most people were basically good. They basically did the right thing.
Bullshit.
Once I was able to fully appreciate the disparities, the blatant injustice, the disregard for certain lives, well, I couldn't look back. I'd never been silent anyway, about what I saw as wrong. I spoke for years about those things, and sometimes the issues would be something that was specific to race. I think people tended to tolerate my statements and views, because a majority of it was about a safe topic. "Crime Victims". It's a label that doesn't immediately speak of race. It doesn't immediately implicate anyone in doing anything wrong.
However, a person cannot research psychology of victims, statistics about victims, sociology without coming to a conclusion that cannot be denied.
Shit isn't equal. People have become less tolerant of my mouth the more vocal I am.
I don't care if it makes you uncomfortable.
Let me just put some acknowledgements out there, that I think that I should. It's because some white folks feel that their struggles as humans are being dismissed.
That's totally not it.
I'm sorry you feel that way.
What I'm getting is that your life was incredibly shitty. You were neglected, abused. You didn't have a stable home, or you were poor. Maybe your parents used drugs, or you were a foster kid. Maybe you were even beat up on by a daily basis by black kids in your neighborhood.
Firstly, I hear you. I hear what the root of it is, and that root is that you hurt badly. You were not exempt from pain, sadness, death.
No one is saying that you never experienced those horrible things. I'm so sorry you hurt.
I'm not one to dismiss other people's pain, ever. And just because someone has a shitty story, maybe worse than yours, doesn't mean YOU should not honor your experiences. No one should feel like they should dismiss their own pain or struggles. Your experiences affect you today. I get it.
So, why am I always speaking about race? About black folks?
Well...
I have interacted with the black community enough to know they hurt, they bleed, they grieve. Despite what you have been led to believe, they live everyday lives too. The sucky part is, if you harbor ill feelings and are honest with yourself, and how YOU feel about black people, you'll know why they feel like they don't matter. Even if you in particular don't make nasty statements, attack, murder or oppress black folks, someone else who feels the way you do, DOES. Lots more do than don't, but not all of it is blatant. The subtle shit stings too, just saying.
Someone else who resents them is in charge of educating them, offering them jobs, approving their home loans, operating on them, has the ability to lock them up, pull them over, shoot them. Without any consequences. A lot of people who resent black folks are not in fact, adult enough to let go of a bias and do what's right. They give in to that beast inside them that wants to punish those black folks.
How hard is it to understand, that the same country that:
drops bombs, starts wars, blames rape victims for rape, puts out false propaganda, passes laws to steal your rights, enslaved and murdered Native Americans, imprisoned Japanese people in World War 2, cosigned our government conducting biological experiences on its' own people, denied the toxicity of Agent Orange, was not ok with women voting, treat Vietnam soldiers like domestic terrorists:
benefits from a people being oppressed? Especially when that oppressed people are physically strong, emotionally resilient?
Think about it. How many times have you seen an emerging double threat player or potential star sidelined due to someone being threatened by their potential? Why? Well, shitty human nature dictates that brute force or intimidation is key to taking out someone capable of usurping your rule. When you have a whole nation of people who are still stuck due to an antiquated belief that they are "less than" this is what happens.
Now, I'm going to tell you something else.
Just because a situation doesn't apply to you, doesn't mean it isn't a problem.
Just because you don't want to admit that a situation exists, doesn't mean it doesn't.
Just because the information is coming from a black person, doesn't make it less valued or less true.
Sadly, many people think that black folks shouldn't be bitching at all. Kind of sad. Tell you what, you get treated like they have, and I know for a FACT that you'd burn this shit down. In fact, you'd be all self-righteous saying "how fucking dare ANYONE" talk to or treat you like shit.
Well, this happens every fucking day, all fucking day, for the last eleventy hundreds of years in this country. And the same shit happened to my native ancestors on the Trail of Tears. No one paid for that either. My ancestors were raped, murdered, robbed of life, land, liberty. So, the white man makes up some happy horseshit about smiles over Possum Pie and Crabapple biscuits or some shit.
Notice how history has been completely sanitized.
Notice how the history we were given doesn't even remotely match the truth?
How about any black folks who contributed great things to this world and country?
I only learned about Harriet and George Washington Carver.
Because learning about black people would either make me: magically turn black, desire black penis, appreciate black folks or WORSE, ask questions about why more black folks were not talked about, and even then, only during one month a year.
So, if this shit was done to my people, now resigned to drinking 8 ball in a dirty, disgusting ramshackle house near fracking land, it's certainly happened to others. If my Irish ancestors were enslaved, and treated like shit too..it's not inconceivable.
I'm just saying..stop ignoring history and truth because it makes you feel bad about being white.
You have nothing to be ashamed of, if you are living a life where you are contributing in an authentic way to the healing of this country. You are responsible for YOU.
What you do need to learn to do is: listen, say "I'm sorry that happened to you".
For fuck's sake, don't be this asshole.
"My mother was murdered"
"White folks get murdered too!"
"My mother was white...."
"Oh..."
Yes, there are a lot of assholes out there who feel the need to bring up white murders. Only, I never had a black person interrupt me and say "Black folks get murdered too!".
Black folks always listened to me. They gave me a hug. They told me they were sorry. The thing is, you all didn't kill my mom. So, saying sorry is really the kindest thing ever.
Makings someone else's pain all about how offended you are by it is really shitty. Stop that shit now.
My whiteness is not threatened by the black experience. I am not threatened by black people wanting to be treated like I was for a majority of my life. Cuz even though I had some shitty times being mistaken for a black person, most of my life I was granted a certain believability, a certain credibility because I am white.
It existed before I even opened my mouth, with the exception of the times I had to deal with assholes who wanted to know my background before they could do a thing for me. I was granted opportunities that most of us white folks take for granted.
I was able to also check out of conversations about race. Black folks can't do that. Every time they leave their house, they know they will run into, predictably, some asshole who wants to watch them, clutch their purse, lock their door or fuck with them, because they aren't the right shade of crayon.
That's shitty as fuck.
So what can we do?
Firstly, my Grams was a woman who wasn't shy a bit. She said what she thought. I do the same. I don't give a fuck if people like me. I'd rather be on the right shade side of integrity. I'd rather respect myself, because fuck, I know better. I know that the things I was taught in life about the way to live life and treat others were not conditional, even if other white people have their unspoken rules.
I cannot live life not acknowledging what I know, what I've seen. I'm logical. I know that many black people have bias, but then, most of us do, in some way, even if we think we are open-minded.
I have run across a lot of white people who tell me they never believe a word a black person says, basically parroting that same propaganda from the slave days.
That's why I talk. Black folks don't need me to talk for them. They don't have to be responsible for answering questions that we ask, just because we are too lazy to take our asses to Google and learn some shit. There is a place for Q and A.
I engage with my friends and family because if a black person is not who you want to hear from, because it makes you uncomfortable, I'm ok with it. I'm the one who is going to ask you about the root of your issues.
If you only expose yourself to right wing news, only read pages that are conservative, and believe every anti-black story that comes your way, I'm going to annoy you.
I post information every day that's irritating. Sure, a silly cat video or two, some jokes, but shit, my passion is PEOPLE and justice. I'm sorry that you can't skim over my shit without chuckling every day, but I believe in my legacy being worth something.
I'm going to ask you to explain why you feel that black people are racist. I'm going to ask you why you only comment on threads about misbehaving black folks, but ignore white folks doing heinous shit. I'm going to post shit about assholes who make ignorant remarks about Ferguson protestors, while ignoring the ironic fact that they are being hateful themselves.
Who am I?
I'm your family member.
I'm your friend.
I am fair. I don't pick and choose whose life means something, and whose doesn't. If I did, would you really respect my work? Or would you think my integrity can be squashed and my loyalty isn't worth shit?
Thought so.
I have spoken up for years about injustice. After the life I lived, I refuse to be silent. I don't care if my truth is offensive. It's the truth. The thing is..the truth shouldn't be wrapped up in a pretty bow. I shouldn't have to rearrange facts to make you comfortable.
I saw on a blog recently, that you will be uncomfortable before you are comfortable.
Think on that.
Healing is uncomfortable.
So is change.
We can only expect change if we are all honest.
The black activists I speak with are well aware of issues in their own culture.
They are well aware of what needs work. They are willing to put in the time.
I ask, since you are responsible for your own soul, your own happiness...
What are you willing to do?
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