On White Privilege

White privilege is extremely hard to explain to white people. I try, but I am rarely ever successful. Having institutionalized privilege usually means that you hardly even notice said privilege. I know there are some people who are completely confused by and annoyed with the idea of white privilege. And that's totally understandable. Every single human being struggles, and it can't feel good to hear someone tell you about how easy you've got it when you're struggling.

And I do acknowledge that white people struggle. I'm not at all suggesting that their lives are perfect or doubting the severity of their issues. I know that white people struggle just as people of color struggle. The idea of white privilege is not suggesting that white people live life free of adversity or unfairness. White privilege simply points out the fact that there are certain troubles that white people will probably never wrestle with because of their skin color.

A white person gets a good job, or into a good school, and no one will confuse their hard work as Affirmative Action.

A white boy in a hoodie running is seen as trying to get out of the rain, while a black boy in a hoodie is seen as suspicious.

A group of white friends can usually walk down the street without people locking their car doors or nervously looking away.

A white person will never be told to "get over" 9/11, Pearl Harbor, or the Holocaust like black people are told to get over slavery.

A white mother never has to have a conversation with her son at age 10 about how he should behave around older white men and communicate with police.

A white person is labeled as "quirky and eccentric" for doing the same things that get black people labeled as "ghetto".

A white person can almost know for certain that if they are pulled over or followed around a store for no reason, it is not because of their race but because of the mistake/boredom/etc. of the officer.

A white person may never wonder too hard about their culture(s) because white history is taught in schools and published in books. (All of the text books I've read have plenty much skimmed over black people. Of course slavery and civil rights are mentioned, but their is hardly any cultural information included. (African American studies is usually an elective, if even an offered course.))

A white person is much more capable of learning about their ancestry, where the files and records of an African American's family lineage rarely goes back past Antebellum, as slave records were not kept or maintained very often. Ancestry.com wouldn't do much for me.

A white person can see people meeting European beauty standards on television and in the media regularly, where I always search for the people of color in a cast or in a magazine.

A white person never has to see their peers in blackface or hear them say "nigga/nigger", and be told to "calm down" or "take a joke".

A white person never gets surprised looks when they prove to be articulate or intelligent.

A white person never has to hear, "Wait, your dad still lives with you?".

A white person never has to sit through a lecture on Martin Luther King or Barack Obama and have the entire class stare at them.

A white person is never assumed to be violent a terrorist (even though some of the most violent crimes in history have been committed by white people *sips tea*).

I could go on and on and on.

I am not asking for or expecting an apology from white people. They shouldn't have to apologize for the privileges history and society has granted them. I don't think they should feel bad for these privileges. I don't think they should feel guilty for taking advantage of them. I don't think they should feel ashamed for the actions of other white people in the past and in the present - they have nothing to do with those people. All I would like is for them to acknowledge their privilege. And to take advantage of any opportunities they have to make a difference.

I may be writing about race relations/racism for a while, as it is one of the most influential aspects of society, and due to all of the race-related stories in the news.

R.I.P. Eric Garner. R.I.P. Tamir Rice. R.I.P. Michael Brown. R.I.P. John Crawford. R.I.P. Trayvon Martin. R.I.P. Oscar Grant. R.I.P. ...

Open Letter: Let's Call Racism What It Is

Dear Reader,

If you do not believe racism exists...

I have a dilemma. I'm thinking that you may be able to help me.

You have recently stated that racism is no longer a problem for African Americans. You so kindly reminded us that we've won the battle for civil rights. This is great news! I mean really, it's a relief.

The problem is, Reader, my little cousin (14) was on the phone weeping to me the other night.

My cousin has experienced a lot at a young age. Too much, honestly.

Once he was riding home with a group of friends, all of them white, and they were pulled over for no apparent reason. He was sitting in the passenger seat, and asked to step out to be searched while the rest of the boys he was with could wait inside the car and were asked no questions. Eventually, when the cop was finally done harassing him, he was able to return to the car and ride home in the awkward silence.

My cousin has been told by his crush that her dad would not let her date black guys.

My cousin has been accused of shoplifting because he had his hands in his pocket while walking around a convenience store.

My cousin has been told that he is ugly because his skin is too dark.

My cousin, who is brilliant, and the only black person in his science class, constantly has to look at the shocked expression of his chemistry teacher whenever he is as successful as or more successful than his white peers.

Even though my cousin has had these experiences, and many more, this is not why he was crying to me.

My cousin, who never cries, was crying for Eric Garner's family. He felt so bad for his mother and his wife and his children. He was so deeply saddened by the fact that a man could be killed by an illegal chokehold caught on tape without justice. He said that he couldn't even imagine how devasting it must be to lose a loved one to murder, and then to hear that that murder was okay.

He claims that this is why he cried, but I know better. Yes, of course he felt sorry for Eric Garner's family. But he was crying for his own. He was crying for his mother and his family. He was crying for me. He cried because he knew that the name "Eric Garner" could easily be switched out for his own. As could Tamir Rice's. As could Michael Brown's. As could John Crawford's. As could Trayvon Martin's. As could Oscar Grant's. And a slew of other names belonging to black men who have died without justice. He cried because he knew that these situations were not at all personal. These men did not die because they were bad people; these weren't thugs, or threats to society. These men died because their black skin causes society to view them as dangerous; as deadly; as violent. Racial profiling and prejudice had ended their lives, before they even had a chance to defend it. My cousin cried, Reader, because he knew that he wouldn't have had a chance either. And that his killer would probably walk free too. And that his family would suffer the same way Eric Garner's had. He wept for his family. For us, and for himself.

And near the end of the call, he kept asking me "why". "Why does this happen?" "Why can this happen?" "Why won't it stop?". I wasn't able to answer his question, and he went to bed believing that he was living in a racist society, and that he would have to learn how to survive in a country where the legal system does not value or defend his life.

But, there is hope! According to you, Reader, he should not feel that way because of all of the civil rights we've won.

And that is why I must ask a favor of you: tell my cousin why this happens. The real reason why, since it's not racism. He needs to know.

Thank you.

Sincerely

Assertive Does Not Mean Bitchy! (On Shaming Girls for Taking Control)

I'm channeling my inner feminist. Sorry, not sorry.

I am so tired of being called bossy. And bitchy. And stuck up.

It would be different if I was actually bossy, bitchy, and/or stuck up. I would not take offense to these claims if they were accurate. I'll wear any shoe that fits.

But the thing is: I'm not actually bossy. Or bitchy. Or stuck up. I'm stubborn, for sure; strong-willed. And yes, I'm sometimes a bit candid. I'm passionate. I'm assertive. When I have thoughts and opinions and ideas, I share them. I stick with my gut; trust my intuition. And because I am this way, I'm often labeled unfairly.

These labels are assigned to me simply because I'm a girl. That is literally the only reason. Throughout history, women have not been the leaders, but the conformists; silent and obedient and polite. For some reason, it seems as if young women are expected to still fit into that mold. And when she doesn't; when she dares to speak up or innovate or take control, she's bossy. She's a bitch. She's stuck up.

Why aren't women allowed to be assertive?

Anna Wintour is always called a bitch, and I absolutely hate hearing people call her that. An entire book/movie (that I admittedly love) was supposedly based off of her, called The Devil Wears Prada. The devil! Lucifer! Satan! Anna Wintour was compared to Satan! And for what? For being brutally honest? For not accepting mediocracy? For protecting Vogue's position as the most influential fashion magazine in the world? Here's the truth: there's no one on Earth who can do what she does the way she does it. No one. And she knows that. And she's proud of that. And if she's seemingly serious and harsh I can only imagine that it's in order to ensure the continuation of the success of American Vogue. She works hard. She means business. That does not make her a bitch. If a man had her job, he'd be called revolutionary and innovative and an inspiring leader. Let's treat Anna Wintour (and every other successful and assertive woman) with the same respect.

Why is it that any woman reaching for leadership roles is portrayed as power-hungry and men-hating?

Time Magazine's cover story one week was a feature on Hillary Clinton's success. The cover? A photo of a heel about to step on a man. The portrayal of Hillary was ridiculously inaccurate, considering the fact that man-crushing has never been on her agenda. Why is it that society thinks that women measure success by the shortcomings of men? Men: we are not out to get you (not all of us, at least). Out to get some of your jobs, maybe, but not you. There's nothing wrong with women wanting positions that are usually filled by men. If anything, it's beneficial to the job market, creating some healthy competition.

And another point: WOMEN ARE NOT OBLIGATED TO BE WARM AND CUDDLY!

Contrary to popular belief, not all girls are made of the perfect blend of sugar and spice and everything nice. Actually, a lot of girls are mostly spice. And that's ok. They cannot control their personalities. If they aren't necessarily the friendliest person in the world, that does not make them a bitch. Just because she's not talkative or touchy-feely doesn't mean she's stuck up, just introverted. 

Stop criticizing girls for not fitting into the mold society has made for us.

So yeah. I think I'm done ranting now.

White Girls Saying "Nigga"

If you are white, do not say nigga. I'm addressing white girls in particular, since I've noticed them saying it far more often than white boys.

I'm going to repeat myself, since this concept is apparently quite difficult for most white girls to grasp: if you are white, do not say nigga. If you are white, do not say nigga. If you are white, do not say nigga.

Under no circumstances should the word "nigga/nigger" come out of your mouth.

I do not care if your best friend is black.

I do not care if you're dating a black person.

I do not care if you grew up in a black community.

I do not care if you were adopted by black guardians.

I do not care about any reason you give me that could possibly justify your use of the word. It's never okay. Do not say it.

Yes, black people use the word "nigga" frequently and casually. It may seem "unfair" to you to see them use it so freely. (That's what the white girls at my school tend to whine about. They think it's "unfair" that we can say it whenever we want. *rolls eyes*) Whenever it seems "unfair" to you, shut the fuck up and remember hundreds of years of slavery and institutionalized racism. That's unfair.

It's really sickening to see white girls throw around "nigga" so easily. I mean, they're really comfortable with the word and honestly feel like they have a right to use it. And have a prepared mental list of reasons why they should be able to use it. That's crazy to me.

It seems like they're constantly looking for opportunities to say nigga; looking for reasons; looking for excuses. As I've said countless times before, and will probably say countless more times, if you are not black it is not okay to say nigga. Period. End of story. It will never be okay.

The day I allow white people say nigga is the day they decide to own up to the racism and hatred behind the word. It will be the day that they understand that there is dominance behind the word, and that using it belittles every black person that they know. It will be a day that they recognize white privilege, and their ability to embrace aspects about a culture that seem cool, like the word "nigga", without taking on the shitty aspects of that culture, like racial profiling and discrimination. When that day comes, then they can say nigga whenever they want. But until then, I will continue to check every single white girl (and boy, of course) that lets the word slip out of their mouth.

Separating the Art from the Artist

Separating art from artist has always been difficult for me. I almost consider them to be the same thing. After all, there is not one without the other. And even if the two could exist separately in my mind, I would still see the creation as a sort of extension of the creator.

If I do not like the artist as a person, it is likely that I will not like or support the art. And vice versa. There are so many extremely talented artists that I don't support because of their character/behavior/morals or lack thereof. I could fall in love with a painting but would not buy it if the painter was homophobic. I mean, if Solange (my spirit animal), were to make racist comments, I couldn't listen to her music anymore. And she's my spirit animal. However, I feel like work that comes from the mind, heart, and soul of someone hateful is tainted by that hate and weighed down with negative energy. And regardless of who that artist is, or what they create, I'm not capable of overlooking that.

But a lot of people I know are not like this.

For example -- Many of my friends are absolutely sickened by the fact that Chris Brown ever even considered putting his hands on Rihanna. They're disgusted by his rampages and tired of hearing about him being in and out of court. But they still buy his music simply because they see it as unrelated to his character. They do not like Chris Brown but do like Chris Brown's work. For another example, there are a lot of young girls that I've (unfortunately) stumbled upon on Twitter who overlook Justin Bieber's destructive and even racist behavior because he's cute. Because he's cute. (I wonder -- would Jim Crow laws still be in place if he had only been blessed with better genes?)

I can't do that.

Of course I don't expect artists to be perfect. I don't expect anyone to be perfect. And I understand that art is flawed and thrives in darkness and sorrow and even hatred; that it often comes from bad places. But I do not believe that art can come from "bad" people, or bad intentions.

On Blogging

The best thing about having a blog is also the worst thing about having a blog -- people always expect you to have something to say. And so, when something big happens, people flock to you for your opinion on it. I love this and I hate this.

Running my own blog has put my voice out there in a way far more effective than I expected. (The fact that people actually read this is insane to me.) Because I blog mainly about my opinions and thoughts on social issues, societal norms, etc., people look to me for reactions to a lot of what's going on in the world.

I love this, because it's led to so many great conversations with so many great people. I love that people feel like I may have something even remotely relevant to say, or that they feel like I could contribute to an intellectual or stimulating conversation. These talks have both strengthened my belief in something and led to me completely changing my mind. I have learned so much from these discussions, and I am extremely grateful to have been part of them.

But I hate it, because sometimes, I have nothing to say. Of course, I'm always willing to simply listen in on the discussion. And when I do this I learn and gain lots of knowledge and understanding. The problem is that a lot of the time, people want me to chime in. But when you ask me how I feel about yet another innocent black teenager being gunned down by the police, there is nothing I can say. I can't talk to you about the slaughter of children. I cannot talk to you about vicious hate crimes against the LGBT community.

I know I'm opinionated and rarely hesitant to participate in a good conversation, but I just have no words for certain situations. I'll have thoughts, opinions, ideas... just no way to form them in a way that anyone else will understand. Some things just hit too hard for me to articulate my feelings about them.

"Artsy White Girl Shit"

So my cousins from out of town came to visit for the weekend. They came into my room and looked around. Looked at the art and photography I have hanging up; looked at my collection of magazines; looked at the corkboard on the wall by my bookshelf and one asked, "So... what's up with all this... artsy... white girl shit?".

Artsy white girl shit.

The others laughed and agreed. Apparently, I was trying to be white.

It made me feel the exact same way I feel when people tell me that I "talk/act" white. Is speaking proper English a behavior that is reserved for white people? Along with reading, and writing, and now, being into art?

Believing that I have no business being interested in or appreciative of art, simply because I'm black is absurd. My melanin does not contribute to my interests at all. And even if the fact that I'm black did matter, it would only give me more of a reason to love art.

Black people are and  have been major contributors to the art world. From ancient African art, to the Harlem Renaissance, to the Hip Hop movement, to the works of present day. We've had a significant impact on fine art, photography, music, literature, film and dance. To suggest that art, and the appreciation of art, is exclusively for white people is ridiculous. I cannot stress the importance of black people's participation in the arts. We help push the limits and revolutionize art.

Like is it even possible to make a list of artistic, black geniuses? Should I even try? Is there even enough time to finish such an extensive list? I mean there's Maya Angelou, Simmie Knox, Spike Lee, Faith Ringgold. There's Henry Ossawa Tanner, Smokey Robinson, Lauryn Hill, Alice Walker, Jimmy Hendrix, Lorna Simpson, James Van Der Zee, Lee Daniels. There's Horace Pippin, Louis Armstrong, Erykah Badu, Jill Scott. There's Forest Whitaker, Toni Morrison, Mos Def, Talib Kweli, Langston Hughes, Ruby Dee, Sidney Poitier. Jean-Michel Basquiat, Stevie Wonder, Lorraine Hansberry, Ernest Gaines, Gordon Parks, etc., etc., etc. I could go on and on and on.

And literally all other races have been major contributors, too.

Art is not a "white" thing. Art is a human thing.