December 13, 2015
The White Panther
While I do commend this white person for taking an interest in black culture, but merely majoring or taking a class in black studies does make you an expert in all things black. I live this every day. I don't just stroll into a classroom. I don't care how many Maya Angelou quotes you have memorized, how many Angela Davis posters you have hanging up in your apartment, or how you think you identify with the black struggle, you're not black. At the end of day all you have to do is turn in a term paper and go back to enjoy being white. So, yes ace your class in black studies but don't try to lecture me about my race.
The Low-Key Racist
White girl problems are to the Becky as abortions are to Catholic schoolgirls; they're mutually exclusive. They travel in packs, think glitter is a color, and always sound like they're asking a question. Pretty doubtful that the Becky will see past her own world, since this requires her to stop going totally postal over her white girl problems that range from missing the sale at Barneys to her pumpkin spice latte not being pumpkiny enough. The worst, right? Do listen to her white girl problems long enough to get into the club and enjoy that bottle service thanks to her daddy.
From America to hip-hop, the Columbus will sprinkle blonde hair on anything and call it a discovery. It's no secret that black culture and entertainment has been and still is creative fodder for the majority. Good luck convincing this Anglo otherwise. You'd have a better chance at convincing Bambie you graduated. Just because it's in an Iggy Azalea video and featured in Vogue does not mean it's new and cutting edge, maybe new to you. It's not inspiration. It's not motivation and it sure in the hell isn't any partnerships. It's appropriation.
The Curious Cat
"Did you read that New York Times article about Shonda Rhimes?" "What are your thoughts on Fox News and its Obama coverage?" "Is it politically incorrect to refer to Michelle Obama as fierce?" "Watermelon spears or cubes, do you have a preference?" "I don't know about that Tavis Smiley." Did you get that article I left on your desk about Ferguson?" "Have you been following the #poormichelle hash tag, it's hilarious?" Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh make it stop! Who elected me as the ambassador for united Negro relations? If curiosity could really kill, this cat has died, risen, and came back asking more questions. At the appropriate space and time, I'm all for having an open dialogue about race, not many people do it enough. But damn, I'm not the resident Negro expert on all things from pop culture to politics. I mean hell; my favorite station on Pandora is Royksopp.
Blame it on my lack of imagination, but I just couldn't find a more fitting label for this white person other than Idiot. According to this Idiot, we've profoundly progressed from our past. Black people can vote now! We have a black president! Ya'll little pickaninny kids can go to school with our kids now! Huh!? To the backdrop of what's currently going on in the world, specifically America, terming this as progression is equivalent to saying, "Ok, well Jeffrey Dahmer only killed and ate 10 boys, not 17 like we thought, so that's not as bad, progression right?" Um no, don't piss on my leg and tell me it's raining.
Excuse me if I'm not jumping for joy just because I have equal, civil rights let alone recognized as a human being. What the Idiot fails to recognize is that granting equal rights is not progression it's restitution. Plus, last I checked I don't get rewarded for just being mediocre. So, let the Idiot live in La La land where sequin colored swans crap smiles and Klansmen are hosting probate shows.