Outrageous Opinions of Old: Of Race and Privilege

I am not a writer for social justice. I do not fight the denigration of basic moral codes and I do not work to eliminate complacency. I do not incite political action.

Most of all, I do not blame any person for the actions of their race, and I do not at all hate white people or even the WASP elite.

But I feel compelled to discuss the ridiculous reality that there are people who actually believe that racism is rare or nonexistent.

I realize that extreme sensitivity toward each other must die if we ever hope to achieve peace, but do not be so condescending as to claim that privilege does not exist–that people are not significantly treated differently based on the color of their skin and the nature of their beliefs. The content of their character is often overlooked.

I am the first to point out that I have privileges that many others do not. I come from an extremely rich family. I am very, very fair. If I am not wearing a headscarf, I pass easily as just another white girl. Unlike my brother, I have the option of stepping out of my other-worldly celestial stereotype almost flawlessly.

But I do not. I wear my scarf like he wears his skin. Blacks, Arabs, Muslims, Hispanics, South Asians, and many others, we are marginalized groups, and we are judged so harshly when we point out someone’s actions as “racist.” We are too sensitive. We are looking for a fight. We just hate white people.

Nothing grinds my gears more than the constant claim that we are compulsively assuming that all acts of unkindness are acts of racism. Not everyone who does bad things is racist.

To this, I will concede. That is true. Not everyone who does bad things is racist, but please do not spout your bullshit bigoted holier-than-thou god-complex-induced spiel depicting this situation as a mass of angry people victimizing themselves.

If you have never been pulled over without cause, if you have never been searched multiple times at an airport because of your skin color or clothes, if you have never been afraid of a police officer, if you have never been watched in a convenience store, if you have never lost out on a job you deserved because of your name, you cannot begin to understand what it means to constantly try to discern a friend from a foe. Almost all the racists have two faces. Just ask Hamlet. They’ve been given a face and they make themselves another. I plot twist the meanings. It’s still there.

And for all the people in the back nodding indignantly as I write this, I have a criticism for you, too.

There is nothing more counterproductive, insulting and bigoted than trying to compare the severity of your consequential pain created by a racist society to others. It does not make you better, to be more marginalized. It does not make you more rightfully indignant, to believe that other people’s socially ignited upset is collateral damage in a system specifically geared to destroy your group above all else.

It does not make you cooler to be hurt the most.

And for all others, if you truly believe that there is no white privilege, no systematic adulation toward white men regardless of their icky mistakes, then consider this:

This U S of A was built on the death and enslavement of those who already populated it, and the very people who caused and perpetuated this genocide have had their faces carved into a stolen land. They are celebrated for the success of outrageous agendas. We have a real-life example of how we justify the means so long as we enjoy the ends; We still until this very day celebrate the voyage of a man who did nothing but murder droves of people whose only crime was to show kindness to a bloodthirsty warmonger.

Let me sell you on Columbus Day, where the weekend never ends, there are no Miserable Mondays, and friendly all-inclusive neighborhood cook outs are hosted to mask the unpleasant underlying white guilt.

Batteries not included.

The Coworker Conundrum: The Foul Fight to the Finish

Having to work with others is perhaps the most aggravating part of being in the work force. The attitudes, lies, passive aggression, and ridiculous expectations can work, work, work, work, work your nerve to no end.

Here are some tips on how to defeat those snarky, pseudo-professional, jerk-off coworkers that are high off their own hubris.

Passive aggressive clap-back emails that won’t get you in trouble:

“As per my last email…”
“If you’d more closely examine your records…”
“Duly noted, however…”
“I’ve copied others on this email in order to clarify further…”
“In the future, I would be more comfortable if you…”

When snitches get stitches, but haven’t fallen in double ditches:

“I feel that the reports to higher up faculty was an unnecessary detriment to a healthy work environment.”
“Our working relationship is being affected by your tendency to unnecessarily involve others.”
“Your actions are leading me to believe that you are unhappy with my work.”

When you’re being given ridiculous and condescending feedback:

Act stupid until they’re dizzy: “Can you explain that more?” “I’m hearing you, but I don’t understand.” “What does that mean?” “Why?” “Why?” “Why?” “I’m still not following.” “This isn’t clear.” “Why?” “Why?” “Why?”

When all else fails:

FUCK THIS SHIT. I QUIT.

The Perfect Perception of Pride

Pride is an interesting social construct. It is an idea based on perception, not fact. Entire personalities can be fundamentally hated because of misconstrued words and idiosyncrasies. We write people off as proud or egotistical only by interpreting what we see.

A little known truth is that, people’s actions do not always point to their true selves. Humans often display a smoke screen that creates an illusion that we are what we are not. Sometimes, it is easier to put on a facade of complete detachment and apathy simply because allowing reality to shine through can only expose our vulnerability.

“This is me.”
“You don’t like it, I don’t care.”
“I am who I am.”
“I will change for no one.”
“Get over it.”

These statements are thought to be nothing more than a verbal manifestation of a person’s high sense of their own grandiosity. However, they are not expressions of extreme hubris. More often than not, they are the words we hide behind to distract people from our floor-level self-esteem. When people are kept safely at arm’s length, the pain that intensifies when we’re alone in the dark is invisible.

Pride isn’t palpable. It isn’t easily discerned. It is often a cover for depression, anxiety, and low self-worth.

It is better to be awful than weak. It is better to be pompous than broken.

Be careful what you say, because your words are worse than sticks and stones. Broken bones heal. Broken hearts don’t. A simple sentence said can run races in someone’s mind until they fall apart completely.

And there’s no coming back from that.

Points of pride be damned.