Struggling with the terms of the struggle.

I watched a video, posted on twitter by someone complaining about BLM, and I felt the need to write this post.

The video -

First of all, nothing she says in this video is wrong. Second, I think the push back against it is based solely on people misunderstanding the terms that we use to describe things that occur in American society. So, let's discuss some of those terms that people seem to struggle with on a daily basis.

White privilege -  

White privilege is a term for societal privileges that benefit people identified as white in Western countries, beyond what is commonly experienced by non-white people under the same social, political, or economic circumstances.  

Source.

White privilege doesn't mean that all white people have things easier than all people of color. A rich black man, for example, may have more privilege than a poor white woman. The black man having the privileges of being male and rich vs the woman having the disadvantages of being poor and female.

Lots of white people seem to think that when someone says white privilege what they're saying is "You don't have to work for things because you're white." This is not what it means. It just means that you have the benefits of being white in a white country. I would imagine that being *blank* in a *blank* country is always a benefit, wouldn't you? Being Chinese in China, for example, would be more beneficial than being black.

The anger that I see at the use of the term white privilege brings me conveniently to another concept that people misunderstand. Ironically, the reason they misunderstand it is because of it's existence.

White fragility - 

White Fragility is a state in which even a minimum amount of racial stress becomes intolerable, triggering a range of defensive moves. These moves include the outward display of emotions such as anger, fear, and guilt, and behaviors such as argumentation, silence, and leaving the stress-inducing situation.

Source.

This isn't an attack on white people - the woman that wrote the book is white. It's just a term for a thing that happens. Here's an example of white fragility -

Melissa Francis was so overwhelmed by this conversation that she broke down into tears and effectively ended the discussion. This is exactly white fragility. This comes up often when discussing race with white people in America. I say in America specifically because honestly white people in other parts of the world are far more comfortable having conversations about race than white people in the United States.

This doesn't mean that all white people are fragile or that you're a weak person for experiencing this phenomenon. It's just a thing that exists in American society because of the history of racial tensions in the US and it's the reason that terms like white privilege cause white people here to bristle. 

And, speaking of terms that rustle jimmies...

White supremacy - 

White supremacy is the belief, theory, or doctrine that white people are inherently superior to people from all other racial groups, especially black people, and are therefore rightfully the dominant group in any society.

Source.

The United States of America was founded on white supremacist principles. This should come as no shock to anyone that has read the words of Thomas Jefferson or sung the song of Francis Scott Key. Hell, this is Washington, D.C. in 1925. 

Black people were barely people until 1964 and people are still angry about it today. White supremacy is part of the US. It's woven into the systems that people of color must navigate. It's the reason that being white in America is such a privilege and the reason that white fragility can even exist in the first place.

It's why this is a thug - 

And this is a patriot - 

It's why this is a riot - 

And this is a peaceful protest - 

And it's the reason that this is unacceptable - 

But this is a-ok - 

Simply saying these terms is not an attack on white people. Saying that white privilege, fragility, and supremacy exist is not the same as saying all white people are privileged, fragile, or believe in their supremacy. They're just terms to describe things that are. You do yourself a disservice by refusing to understand these terms. 

If you really want to help people of color in the United States, and the world, the first step is to listen. You can't listen if the terms we must use to describe the things that we must discuss shut you off from what we're actually saying. 

Knowledge is power. 

I love you, white people! Get on the bus! 

To serve.

He stared up at the sun defiantly as the moon began to move in front of it. Standing here atop Fort Knox his view of the eclipse was perfect. More importantly, his celestial alignment was at it's maximum potency for the ritual.

"Steve, your glasses."

He turned and blinked at his assistant, Reece. The poor boy was doomed. He was fine at assisting but that seemed to be the extent of his talents. He was holding everything Steve needed but in a way that infuriated him. His camera was pinched to his body with the right elbow, the strap hanging down near the ground dangerously. His coffee cup was in his right hand held from underneath precariously. He offered the eclipse glasses, held between two outstretched fingers, with his left.

"Fuck it." Steve sneered, turning his attention back to the spectacle above. "Did you do the thing?"

"Yes..." Reece replied. "Why did you make me d-"

"I didn't make you do anything." Steve snapped.

"Ok." Reece said quickly. "But it was weird. At first, the doll wouldn't burn and then it suddenly caught fire. It burned so quickly and brightly. But only... After I..."

"After you said the words."

"Yes."

"Good." As the eclipse reached it's climax above them he held out his hand to Reece, who then handed him the coffee cup. Removing the lid, Steve threw the contents, ashes created by Reese's ritual, off of the roof and into the wind. "Seder pe’ulat ha-yetsirah." He said.

"Seder pe’ulat ha-yetsirah." Reece muttered, automatically.

Steve's eyes stung as he watched the sun reappear from the moon's shadow. Probably destroyed my eyesight, he thought absently. Good thing Moshiach was near. None of it mattered anymore. He looked out across the water and sighed.

"Reece, what is your purpose?" He asked him.

"To serve you, sir." He replied immediately and with absolute conviction.

"Good." Steve said, nodding. He stepped towards Reece swiftly, grabbed him by his belt and his collar, and tossed him from the roof. To his credit, Reece fell silently to his death. As he smashed fatally against the ground below Steve admired him for that. So many die screaming and without dignity.

"You're welcome." He said down to his lifeless body. Doomed, he thought, but at least he had a purpose.  So many more would die clawing for that and never achieving it. Reece had been lucky. Suddenly, his pocket was full of Wagner. He reached into it and retrieved his ringing cellphone.

"What?"

"Did you see the news?" It was Miller, his man in the White House, and he never called with good news.

"What did our naked emperor do?"

"He stared directly up at the eclipse like a dumbass. Three times. The press is having a field day with his senile ass."

"Is that all?" Steve laughed.

"This stuff is adding up. It matters, Steve." Miller insisted.

"Oh, I don't know." Steve said. He looked down over the edge of the building and saw Reece staring back up at him. He was standing in the pool of blood he'd created after he'd been thrown completely motionless save for the movement of the wind in his long black hair. "Maybe he's like me. Maybe he's just saying 'Fuck it.'."

Miller began to speak again but Steve hung up and returned the phone to his pocket. He spoke down to Reece in barely more than a whisper.

"What is your purpose?" He asked him, again.

"TO SERVE YOU!" It roared back up to him in one voice that sounded like one hundred.

"That's right." He told it with a grin. "Now, go get the car."

He gave the sun a final glance. It was finished. The sun was whole again and blinding as always. For now, at least. Crescent shaped artifacts danced across his vision after he tore himself away from it.

"Fuck it." he said, and headed for the stairs.

In case you want to give me money for no reason.

First of all, thank you for reading this far.

My goal for my blog is to take the show on the road. A lot of my writing is related to current events and racial tensions within the US. With additional funding, I'd be able to travel to actual hot spots in the United States to not only write about but record the things I think people need to see and hear. Social media is a great tool for modern day writers but there is no substitute for actual boots on the ground.

I also want to use this funding to start and maintain a not-for-profit organization that helps my local community, Houston, Texas. Community outreach has always been a goal of mine. Now, with the devastation wrought by Harvey, it seems like time for me to step up and do my part. I'm currently working on a project with this in mind that I'll be unveiling in the next few days. I'm very excited about it and I hope you will be, too!

I'm an artist, as well as an aspiring author, so I will on occasion post my artwork and fictional works. I'm currently writing a novel, a sort of cyberpunk post-apocalyptic western adventure, that I hope to be able to make available to people soon. Still lots of writing to be done but it's coming along nicely.

I have many irons in the fire and being able to monetize my writing would go a long way towards me completing my goals. Anything helps and I'm thankful for it.

And, of course, feel free to give me absolutely nothing and read my blog anyway. I'm not blocking anything off. I'll be thinking about rewards for patrons but I figured we'd cross that bridge if/when we came to it.

Here's the link - 

https://www.patreon.com/user?u=7521698