White Guilt and Black Stuff(from LiveJournal)


Well, I have a feeling what I might say will end up a tome or something, but I guess since everyone is saying how they feel or thing I guess I will too.

I’m not a fan of white guilt. Not in the least, because in the vicinity of white guilt is it’s cousin, unfounded dislike. Or it’s sister: gotta have a friendship race quota. Because when a person feels guilty because of being white, it allows the dumber folks of the group to do things like become overly pc or go on the opposite side, try and avoid me all together because they are afraid of what I might do as a Black Female. Yes, I said it. All of this is based on fear and misinformation. Instead of getting to know me as a person I am known as either a quota or as a possiblity that I’ll drag everything down to hell.

The irony is that my family taught me from the beginning of my life to never EVER accept handouts(except in the forms of school loans, scholarships, and mom’s home cooking). Try to eschew the whole quota thing. Force them to see you as an individual. Well, because of those lessons, I can admit that I’ve had a better education career than some of my other black friends. But there are even those smarter than me. But they usually went to private school where is I spent a good time in public. Anyway, I can say that White Curiosity is good though. If someone has NEVER seen a black person in their life outside of tv, I understand their hesitance to talk to me. What I really don’t like is the “Well I guess I have to be her friend because she’s the only black here. I don’t want to appear racist to her.”
Newsflash: Don’t friend me if you don’t want to. I can smell resentment.

But don’t friend me because I look exotic or seem different. I’m really really really not. I spent a good bit of my life in the suburbs and will only talk about the main culture. Don’t really listen to rap or hip hop. Never felt the need to. Give me John Mayer! Oh, sorry..got distracted again by what I was trying to say!

But where there is that person who friends you only for the reason of not appearing racist, there is the guy or girl, who in effort to either lash out at their “stuffy” parents will either try to use you to force change in said parents or in themselves(Because for some odd reason, they think they are latent racists).
Those folks really get on my nerves. They always start a sentence with “I’m not a racist but,….”

I’m sorry, but what ever you were about to ask me got totally siderailed by the fact you had to put that in the front of your sentence or question. Ask what you want, and then I’ll determine if what you asked was stupid or not. `Thank you.
Or they get overly interested in what “black people do”. I’m sorry but I am not a damned different species. To approach me in that manner makes me think two things: 1) You think I AM a different species or 2) Woefully behind in things that go on in the world. I let it pass in High School because I enjoyed answering questions on how long it took my braids to get done or can I name a good bit of my ancestors. Those were simple, soft questions. But the adults would pull me aside(I was the “safe” black) and they would ask me about things I had no idea about. Like why does rap only talk about getting money, doing drugs, and sex. My answer was “well, I guess that in the ghetto those are the only three things that folks can’t get enough of. I have no clue. I’m from the burbs. Please ask someone who listens to rap. I like country. Thank you and goodbye.”

But sometimes, it gets mean.
“Oh you can’t be black Monica(yes, that is my very nondescript name) because what I read about black culture, you don’t fit AT ALL”
“Oh, why do you try to be white? I mean don’t you like being black?”
“Oh, so you must be a self-hating black. I’ve read about that”
These folks are not so much feeling guilty of being white, but more like think that because they are white and they have read a couple of books about the plights of different groups that they can tell me about myself. I personally want to kick them in the groin. Anyway, moving right along.

What I am trying to say, overall, White Guilt is a mental handicap that needs to be worked on. How do I know it’s a handicap? Anything that places me, a woman who has had varying levels of racism happen to her in the same group as a slave who was owned and beat senseless…is a mental handicap. It tries to even the playing field but all it does is make the intelligent of the race you try to “save” pissed off and the dumber of that same group think that is perfectly okay to call you a racist for things you can’t either control or are in the past.
Oh, and a little family history: My mother’s side of the family OWNED SLAVES. Yes. My family started off as Rich Englishmen then started intermarrying Native Americans/Blacks and slaving the rest. Do I feel guilty as the great(too many greats) granddaughter of a slave owner? Honestly, not so much. I mean, what am I to do? Pay reperations to myself? That’s fine and all, but no thank you. I do admit slavery is a bad thing(unless you’re talking about it in the BDSM scene then whatev) and it did and still does effect folks. But the truth of the matter is, sometimes you have to say “I am going to please myself and my ancestors and do what they wanted to do but couldn’t.”

In my case it is to finally get out of college, become a therapist or a minister, start a family, write books, and maybe own a few shops or something. Every person has a dream inside of them, and to allow the past to really dictate your future is not the best idea. Yeah, you might have to push against your programming, but if it is that bad, get a damn therapist. The taste of getting what you worked for should override any pain in the past.
Now, about the hair thing, I and my friends get relaxers. I don’t like having nappy hair. It’s just unmanageable. To give a hint of how thick my hair is naturally, go find a sheep with the poofiest hair. Then try to run your fingers through. That’s MY hair. My mom has really thin hair while my grandmother’s hair is naturally curly. I envy them both. But they envy the fact that I have long, thick hair. So I guess the grass is greener on the other side.
What I do for my hair is for me alone. No one else. Well, maybe for my boyfriend too because he likes to play in my hair.

And as for the whole anger among some Black women because Black men are “running in droves” to women of different races: who gives a bloody rip? If they date outside their race because that is what they are attracted to, then fine. But if it is because black women are *fill with every mean thing you can find here* then screw them. I wouldn’t want to be tied to a man who thinks I am less than he is because I am female, black, and outspoken(at moments). But that whole bs is because in B.C.(black culture) a good bit of us are told that we are Black Queens in training(trying to tie us to the Motherland..no thank you) for our Black Kings. Eh, that’s fine and all but what if my King is White? Does that make me any less of a person? Do I fail at black life? These people who may want to push that agenda to keep the race pure(pure? we ain’t NEVER been pure) is full of hogwash who have an idealized thought on what relationships should be like. Stay away from them. They are most likely bitter and have a dead end job.
Me, I love men and women from all races. But what really attracts me are the white nerdy guys. That is my kryptonite. Put a nerd in front of me, and I just lose it. If you really want to see me lose it, put a redheaded girl with a large rack.
But anyway, that’s just what I think.
Thanks ^_^


About All My Eggs

I'm weird. Really weird. And I tend to talk about things that interest me. That being religion, education,sex-related bits, and family. I talk about myself and my journey to disbelief also. Hense the name All my Eggs.

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