I struggle to write about racism. I know how I feel, I know what I think and I know what I wish people knew. My struggle is in translating my thoughts and emotions into something palatable for the people in my life. My struggle is in not coming across as angry, because people don’t like to hear about racism in the first place, and when it comes through to them in an angry voice, they want to hear about it even less.
Maybe the next time someone says or does something racist toward me, or my family, or my friends, or my co-workers, or someone in the news, I should tell others about it with a tone of cheer in my voice or with winky face emoji.
I *am* angry. I have a valid reason to be angry. I have many valid reasons to be angry. I hear about new reasons to be angry every single day. Every. Single. Day.
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Let me give you today’s example of why I’m angry:
“Omg! This isolated incident of racism perpetrated by someone who exists on the fringe of our society is so terrible! I can’t believe this sort of thing still happens!”
“How terrible – an isolated incident of racism was perpetrated by someone of my grandparent’s generation! How can this happen in today’s day and age?”
“You are kidding me! An isolated incident of racism perpetrated by someone who is CLEARLY mentally ill has happened again. What is this, the 1800s?”
“EXPRESSION OF DISBELIEF! AN ISOLATED INCIDENT OF RACISM HAS HAPPENED BUT NOT BY ANYONE WHO RESEMBLES MY PARENTS OR NEIGHBOR OR CO-WORKER OR FRIEND OR BOYFRIEND OR PASTOR OR BOSS OR ELECTED OFFICIAL OR RESPECTED AUTHOR OR REGULAR PERSON LIKE MYSELF! I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS IS STILL HAPPENING!!!!!”
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Exactly how many isolated incidents have to happen in order for them to not be isolated anymore? At what point will they believe that this is happening? Why did they think it stopped?