Hey man, Steelers and Pirates sucking remains to be seen (Pirates are going to suck, lets be real here). And the Penguins are beasting!
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The Black Culture Thread |OT3| Lighten Up
- Thread starter DY_nasty
- Start date
- Status
Hey man, Steelers and Pirates sucking remains to be seen (Pirates are going to suck, lets be real here). And the Penguins are beasting!
Byakuya769
Member
Why?
That show pisses me off with its contrived plot, but yet my friends have to tweet every dumbass detail.
I'm about to peep this episode to see if ol' girl is as bad as you say.
Some one should do an article on that. Shit is fascinating
Spring-Loaded
Member
What happen
Show came back from a hiatus. Black folk on twitter and beyond have been fiending for this.
middle 3
its ridiculous
#BracketBusters Promoted
#WhyISmile
#ImSoUsedToHearing
#E3ChloeNYC
#ScandalABC
#AskScandal
Olivia Pope
UNLV
Mellie
Huck
Taking over all the twitters.
nah i actually felt kinda bad for them. louisville was the worst matchup for them though.
Spring-Loaded
Member
Ooooh. Kerry Washington. I might watch this since we'll never get the extended Django Unchained with all her cut scenes
u killin me smalls
Spring-Loaded
Member
We'll get to see her cry some more in Peeples too, hopefully
in the tourney i root for black schools regardless.
I heard it was decent, but I haven't watched it myself yet.
Man, I'd actually watch the movie just for that.
Kitschkraft
Member
Jamie Dixon's entire philosophy to college basketball pretty much ensures that we will never make waves in the NCAA tourny. This dude is too fucking dedicated to the "fundamentals/team ball/play everyone" bullshit. I feel like it affects our recruiting and everything. We usually have "decent teams", nothing more and nothing less. Maybe I'm asking for too much but damn is he frustrating.
MorisUkunRasik
Member
Is there a BCT steam group?
ChamplooJones
Formerly Momotaro
CrushDance
Banned
Hello everyone.
So I went away for a while to try and hash things out after becoming an emotional wreck between my therapist telling me to stick to my own kind(Read: black people) when I tried talking about my difficulties in society where 99% of the people here are white. And no, that's not sarcasm. 99% of people where I live *are* white. But. Why is that a problem?... I'm not sure why I thought leaving the internet(A place even more venomous) would make things better. As real life had a lot more to deal me. I suppose the rationale was that reading internet comments and articles was only echoing the problem back onto myself. So I took a break, to try and find some...sort of peace, balance; whatever we all seek. And it didn't go well at all. Between getting rejected twice in a row when asking girls out and getting: "Sorry, no black guys" and losing my job over a friend who later betrayed me, things were tough.
My first thought after logging out of GAF, clearing my browser bookmarks, deleting all the essays, articles and videos that I'd viewed regarding racism and social ostracization; was "Approach people as if you don't know them. Don't fall into the same trap of judging people before knowing them. The same one that has affected you so." And so that is what I did. A month passed and I continued working out, studying, living the best I could while struggling with my depression. One day I woke up to take my medication and asked myself: "Why am I taking these? Because I'm depressed? Why?...because of what people say/do to me? Is it worth it, changing my brain chemistry just to feel happy? Joyful? Should I just not face reality and all it's harshness and truths instead?". And so I flushed them down the toilet and never continued with them. My energy was back, my sharpness, I felt great! But at the same time, I realized that I'd developed a very cynical and jaded view on life. I became somewhat of a jerk inside my head and even while talking to someone with a smile; I was breaking them down on all levels. This frightened me and I quickly gleaned that my self hate, pity, anger, frustration at my surroundings and the inability to move forward; was causing me to project all of that onto innocent people. In many ways, I was seriously cultivating racist attitudes as a means to "protect myself". I never thought highly of anyone, because then I could get disappointed. I never trusted anyone, because then the trust could never be broken, I never looked at any white girl(Read: All girls) even with a hint of interest because then I could not get my heart broken in the worst way possible. And all of those things, quickly piled up and became something so, twisted and malevolent. I frightened myself with the thoughts that would come into my head.
It was then that I came to understand the truth. Racism isn't something that people can use you break you. It is a far more terrifying thing. It is at its core; akin to a poison that one ingests slowly over time until they succumb to it and spread it to others. Destroying themselves and everyone from the inside out. Very few times were overtly racist words or actions used against me in my life, in fact; I remember all those times *because* of their infrequency and the shock that comes with such boldness. No. It's the subtle things. The small minutiae of day to day life that is thrust upon a person until they eventually snap under it. You see, I asked myself a simple question: "What is the one thing you hate about yourself the most? That if you could change, would improve your life?". Because I'd been rejected for being "ugly", "big lipped", "Big black guy", "black", "African", "Nigger". There was never a single positive word that people used towards me that did not somehow reflect my nature. "You're pretty smart, are you sure you're black?", "You talk white!", "I thought you were white on the phone!", "I've always wanted to fuck a black guy!", "Is it true?". Even the compliments, were laced with the same poison. The insidious nature of true racism. I was always "The big black guy", but what about all the white guys around me the same size or bigger? They were never "The big white guy". It was something that I could never escape, and tragically; in that realization...I succumbed to the worse aspect of it. I placed myself and all people like me above all others. Because there was no way that *I* could be the problem. No. If I, we; were hated, despised, ridiculed and abused. It must be because they are afraid of us. Us. And them. No white person could say they were my friend unless they were willing to die for me. Everything suddenly became a test. Testing everyone and everything to find the slightest trace of imperfection. Any flaw of character so that I could write them off as a racist; ignore them. Because it would be easier than confronting reality. Daring, to be hurt.
Who do you trust? Why do you trust them? Those were the questions that plagued me for the next few months. I spent many days laying in my bed, unable to sleep peacefully and dreaming dark dreams. I began seeking out black people, people like me. I didn't care who they were as long as they were black people, poor, rich, ugly, beautiful, smart, dumb; kind or mean. I just wanted someone that I could talk too and vent my soul at. Someone other than my silly therapist who could never understand. My stupid classmates that got away with so much that I could never do. My so called "peers" that smoked weed, got drunk, had sex, said and did as they pleased. Because they were young. They were living. And yet it was I who when the call came around as to the cause of their behaviour, I, was guilty. Me, with my "rap music", "Thug culture". And so I internalized it. I said "I hate rap music! Why do those stupid people make such music? Why am I being labelled a thug because of them?!". And I lashed out against people who listened to rap, called them losers, drop-outs, failures. I took the hate projected at me, and threw it at others. And that is the genius of racism, it is a weapon whereby one has to simply attack one person; and it ricochets.Whereas rock music or metal, country; never idealized stardom or sex and drugs. No, it was only rap music and hip hop. Because their sons and daughters could never, would never in a million year; possibly do any of those things without someone pressuring them; guiding them. I was continuously held guilty, responsible for things that I never did. And it made me angry. Because I knew that if I even did any of those things, the trouble that I would catch would not make it worth it at all. But what does ones taste in music have to do with their actions?
Then I found myself smiling. A truly wicked smile. As I watched my peers come and go. Smiling at the failures and faults of other people. The girl who's relationship with her boyfriend was in peril, the guy who got drunk and smashed his car. The guys tumbling on campus grounds in a flurry of fists and kicks over some words. I started to relish in seeing people suffer, enjoyed their pain and tears. Begged and prayed that they would hurt more. But still I could not enjoy it without immense feelings of guilt and shame. I felt broken. Why could I not hate people? Detest them? Everyone always told me: "You have to grow a thicker skin", "Stand up for yourself", "Find the right girls", "Find the right friends". But I kept finding myself drawn back to the same people. The average people. I stayed up texting with the girl who's relationship was rocky and told her to talk to him. To try and work things out and save their 4 years of dating when she tried to invite me over. I drove the guy who'd smashed his car the week prior back from the bar when he'd called me and said: "Hey Crush, can I still take you up on that offer of a ride?", and I'd exclaimed to the two guys in a frenzy on the ground that it was just a mistake. Why? I still don't know. It burned me. Was it being done for acceptance? To feel needed? Wanted? To be a "nice guy"? None of those answers made sense.
I continued to struggle silently as I sat down one day and saw an article by accident that minorities faced much higher levels of stress, heart problems and early death. Even if they were well off in other aspects of life. And it scared me. I didn't want to die or feel that way forever. And then, in a moment of utter madness. I said: "Maybe I should go to Africa!". But where? Who do I know? What would I do? What is it like? Is Canada my home or is Africa? Are the people who say that I don't belong, am not Canadian; any more Canadian than I? Who's country is this? Where are they? And so I researched. I looked into the horrific history of this country that was glossed over in history class. The broken native peoples, generations separated, shamed; "civilized". That even I, the black. Was somehow more "acceptable" than them. Those "Indians". Nothing but drunks, rapists, murderers, drug dealers and losers . Than I looked at America. Those blacks. Australia. Those natives. Nothing but drunks, rapists, murderers, drug dealers and losers. Everywhere I looked that had been colonized, it was the ones being subjugated, colonized; that were the worse off. The so called, "plagues" of society. And so I asked myself: "Well. How can this be possible that all these people, across different continents and oceans; were all somehow just inherently wicked, broken and bloodthirsty? Just worse than white people?". There had to be a common element. Something that worldwide, from the most secluded villages to the largest skyscrapers; that made some people good, and others bad.
Without the night, the stars would not be as beautiful. We are blessed with great intellect as human beings. Capable of greatness and relentless in our destructiveness at the same time. The same hand of the doctor that heals a white boy in Tuskegee, is the same one that infects a black man in Tuskegee. Our brains, these spongy blobs of tissue have split the atom and forged spears. We are analytical, curious, observant...remembering ancient stories; and forgetting recent history. As I delved deeper into this weird pattern of behaviour. I saw that it was not necessarily a "racist" thing of "we're better and that's true" as it was simply a means to control others. Europeans captured and enslaved one another. As did Arabs, Asians, Africans, Americans. One group would come in, dismantle another and take over or destroy outright. Because you see, there was always this fear. A fear that the ones once subjugated; would rise up and seek retribution unless they were either assimilated or destroyed. That the sons would rise up and kill their fathers. So for the longest time around the world, conquering literally meant that. Whether peoples had green eyes, blue eyed; one was better and the other was wicked. Whether people had red hair or brown. One was pure and the other wicked. Any difference between peoples was always seen as a symbol of their greatness or a symbol of their weakness. And these things have changed over time. Even the colour of ones skin.
After weeks of painstaking research, I came to a simple conclusion. Racism, sexism...all these things are not evil. Or wicked. But simply the refuge of those that are weak in their own self worth. It is a tremor that shakes from the very core of their being, to their hearts and onto their tongues. A severe inferiority complex as could ever be. For if one is truly confident, strong in their superiority; what need is there to boast? To hold others down, prevent access to learning? Health? *true* freedom? What ever could those of us too weak minded or bodied ever hope to accomplish against such true might? If a white man were truly superior to a black man, then would he not say to the black man: "Come! Let us settle this matter once and for all!" And give the black man the exact same resources and conditions that he gives his fellow man to succeed? To prove beyond a doubt his superiority? But. Those who go down that path know this all too well. That is why they shout from their living rooms and around the world: "*WE*". "*WE*. DID THIS." Because *they* have not. For all their speech of accomplishment, achievement and wonder. Such people talk only of the past and are ever so fearful of the future. A future in which all are given the same freedoms and opportunity. Where no longer can a person born with a silver spoon sit atop a perch and claim: "Look! At all that my history has done! I may have not done anything myself, but look! Look at all that has *been* done!". Because the people will listen, then look amongst themselves in confusion and ask him or her: "And you. What have *you* done?".
This, is the answer that I have come too. The definition of judgement by character and not judgement of the physical. But rather of the capable. Because let there be no mistake. There is a narrative that is being pushed, whether consciously or otherwise. And it is not that of true equality, but of obscurity. Of a zero sum game. And it is that fear of losing the perch, of no longer being special because of ones ancestry, sex, gender or otherwise that continues this perversion of innocent minds in the form of racism. However. It is by that same insidious poison that deals it to others, that the dealer hurts them-self. Because by ignoring their own failings, by pretending that they do not have any whatsoever and shining a harsher light on others and embarrassing them, challenging them; calling them out for the slightest of mistakes; that those under the light grow. Those who cast the light on others and laugh, laugh only at the shadows surrounding them. This is why so many young white people continue to struggle with drug use, pregnancy, delinquency and mental scarring. Because the society we live in is too far vested in keeping an eye on minorities; in supporting that narrative. That they fail to see that they are about to drive over their own children on the road.
This is the fallacy of racism. Of blind hate. Nobody wins. The legacy of slavery specifically in the America's is not a chain that has bonded those of African descent only; but also that of whites. I am of African descent. I have never been a slave, my family has never been slaves. But I am treated as if I am incompetent, talked to like a child. Given a burden with such weight and history that I can never work it off in all the days of my life. And there are many white people as well that have never been slave owners or like my family, are recent arrivals. Yet they too are burdened with a history. And so shall their children and their children's children. It is nothing short of a curse that humanity has inflicted upon itself. Anywhere you go around the world, you will find ethnic conflict and mistrust. But there is a dangerous problem if we are unable to judge one another, criticize and grow if at any incident, it turns into a colour issue. Everything, is a colour issue. And so maybe when the cashier gives me my change in a haughty manner, she is just having a bad day, or when a teenager drives by and calls me a nigger; he or she doesn't know history because we gloss over it? Because the truth is, there are racists. Pure and dangerous. But there are also people, people who don't necessarily think about every action or word that they utter and can make honest mistakes without realizing that their words may hurt.
If anything, it is in knowing that you have done something wrong and not acknowledging it; that makes a person bad. Not in making a mistake and then attempting to rectify it. There are days still where I wake up and say: "I wish I was somewhere where colour wasn't an issue.". Then I smile and realize that if it wasn't colour, it would be something else. As history has gladly proven.
Where I am now, I'm uncertain. But I am clear on my initial thoughts. That people are just trying to get by in most cases and not out to purposely harm others. It is incredibly difficult not to take hate, internalize it, blame people similar to you for "being the bad ones" and or turn it back on your attackers. But I'm thankful, glad; that the empathy I'd tried so hard ot get rid of. Figure out how to lose or destroy, has never left me. Because it helps me when I reach those low points to remember that the people who hurt me, are not the people I want to lash out against. And I think that's the point where most people fail. It takes a truly mature and discerning mindset to not fall sway to emotion and rush off to "get back" at ones attackers or defend people that you don't even know; simply because you share something in common with them physically. I almost made "friends" with some bad people because I just wanted to feel a sense of belonging, to be wanted, desired. And while we all do go through that at points in our lives; it can be easily distorted by those able to see through your pain and corrupt that sense of wanting to belong into something else.
So I'll keep trying. That's my goal for the year. Keep trying. Judge on character and action, not on looks and talk alone. Because there are many people that talk and do nothing, and many that are silent; but do much. So. It's good to be back on GAF I suppose. "Home away from home" and all that. In a way I feel a little disingenuous posting it here though because admittedly, I feel that you all will understand this better than the rest of GAF. As most of you in here are black/African/other minorities and can understand the frustration on a deeper level(Not to say that white people don't go through the same things). Echo chambers are never really good for honesty...
So I went away for a while to try and hash things out after becoming an emotional wreck between my therapist telling me to stick to my own kind(Read: black people) when I tried talking about my difficulties in society where 99% of the people here are white. And no, that's not sarcasm. 99% of people where I live *are* white. But. Why is that a problem?... I'm not sure why I thought leaving the internet(A place even more venomous) would make things better. As real life had a lot more to deal me. I suppose the rationale was that reading internet comments and articles was only echoing the problem back onto myself. So I took a break, to try and find some...sort of peace, balance; whatever we all seek. And it didn't go well at all. Between getting rejected twice in a row when asking girls out and getting: "Sorry, no black guys" and losing my job over a friend who later betrayed me, things were tough.
My first thought after logging out of GAF, clearing my browser bookmarks, deleting all the essays, articles and videos that I'd viewed regarding racism and social ostracization; was "Approach people as if you don't know them. Don't fall into the same trap of judging people before knowing them. The same one that has affected you so." And so that is what I did. A month passed and I continued working out, studying, living the best I could while struggling with my depression. One day I woke up to take my medication and asked myself: "Why am I taking these? Because I'm depressed? Why?...because of what people say/do to me? Is it worth it, changing my brain chemistry just to feel happy? Joyful? Should I just not face reality and all it's harshness and truths instead?". And so I flushed them down the toilet and never continued with them. My energy was back, my sharpness, I felt great! But at the same time, I realized that I'd developed a very cynical and jaded view on life. I became somewhat of a jerk inside my head and even while talking to someone with a smile; I was breaking them down on all levels. This frightened me and I quickly gleaned that my self hate, pity, anger, frustration at my surroundings and the inability to move forward; was causing me to project all of that onto innocent people. In many ways, I was seriously cultivating racist attitudes as a means to "protect myself". I never thought highly of anyone, because then I could get disappointed. I never trusted anyone, because then the trust could never be broken, I never looked at any white girl(Read: All girls) even with a hint of interest because then I could not get my heart broken in the worst way possible. And all of those things, quickly piled up and became something so, twisted and malevolent. I frightened myself with the thoughts that would come into my head.
It was then that I came to understand the truth. Racism isn't something that people can use you break you. It is a far more terrifying thing. It is at its core; akin to a poison that one ingests slowly over time until they succumb to it and spread it to others. Destroying themselves and everyone from the inside out. Very few times were overtly racist words or actions used against me in my life, in fact; I remember all those times *because* of their infrequency and the shock that comes with such boldness. No. It's the subtle things. The small minutiae of day to day life that is thrust upon a person until they eventually snap under it. You see, I asked myself a simple question: "What is the one thing you hate about yourself the most? That if you could change, would improve your life?". Because I'd been rejected for being "ugly", "big lipped", "Big black guy", "black", "African", "Nigger". There was never a single positive word that people used towards me that did not somehow reflect my nature. "You're pretty smart, are you sure you're black?", "You talk white!", "I thought you were white on the phone!", "I've always wanted to fuck a black guy!", "Is it true?". Even the compliments, were laced with the same poison. The insidious nature of true racism. I was always "The big black guy", but what about all the white guys around me the same size or bigger? They were never "The big white guy". It was something that I could never escape, and tragically; in that realization...I succumbed to the worse aspect of it. I placed myself and all people like me above all others. Because there was no way that *I* could be the problem. No. If I, we; were hated, despised, ridiculed and abused. It must be because they are afraid of us. Us. And them. No white person could say they were my friend unless they were willing to die for me. Everything suddenly became a test. Testing everyone and everything to find the slightest trace of imperfection. Any flaw of character so that I could write them off as a racist; ignore them. Because it would be easier than confronting reality. Daring, to be hurt.
Who do you trust? Why do you trust them? Those were the questions that plagued me for the next few months. I spent many days laying in my bed, unable to sleep peacefully and dreaming dark dreams. I began seeking out black people, people like me. I didn't care who they were as long as they were black people, poor, rich, ugly, beautiful, smart, dumb; kind or mean. I just wanted someone that I could talk too and vent my soul at. Someone other than my silly therapist who could never understand. My stupid classmates that got away with so much that I could never do. My so called "peers" that smoked weed, got drunk, had sex, said and did as they pleased. Because they were young. They were living. And yet it was I who when the call came around as to the cause of their behaviour, I, was guilty. Me, with my "rap music", "Thug culture". And so I internalized it. I said "I hate rap music! Why do those stupid people make such music? Why am I being labelled a thug because of them?!". And I lashed out against people who listened to rap, called them losers, drop-outs, failures. I took the hate projected at me, and threw it at others. And that is the genius of racism, it is a weapon whereby one has to simply attack one person; and it ricochets.Whereas rock music or metal, country; never idealized stardom or sex and drugs. No, it was only rap music and hip hop. Because their sons and daughters could never, would never in a million year; possibly do any of those things without someone pressuring them; guiding them. I was continuously held guilty, responsible for things that I never did. And it made me angry. Because I knew that if I even did any of those things, the trouble that I would catch would not make it worth it at all. But what does ones taste in music have to do with their actions?
Then I found myself smiling. A truly wicked smile. As I watched my peers come and go. Smiling at the failures and faults of other people. The girl who's relationship with her boyfriend was in peril, the guy who got drunk and smashed his car. The guys tumbling on campus grounds in a flurry of fists and kicks over some words. I started to relish in seeing people suffer, enjoyed their pain and tears. Begged and prayed that they would hurt more. But still I could not enjoy it without immense feelings of guilt and shame. I felt broken. Why could I not hate people? Detest them? Everyone always told me: "You have to grow a thicker skin", "Stand up for yourself", "Find the right girls", "Find the right friends". But I kept finding myself drawn back to the same people. The average people. I stayed up texting with the girl who's relationship was rocky and told her to talk to him. To try and work things out and save their 4 years of dating when she tried to invite me over. I drove the guy who'd smashed his car the week prior back from the bar when he'd called me and said: "Hey Crush, can I still take you up on that offer of a ride?", and I'd exclaimed to the two guys in a frenzy on the ground that it was just a mistake. Why? I still don't know. It burned me. Was it being done for acceptance? To feel needed? Wanted? To be a "nice guy"? None of those answers made sense.
I continued to struggle silently as I sat down one day and saw an article by accident that minorities faced much higher levels of stress, heart problems and early death. Even if they were well off in other aspects of life. And it scared me. I didn't want to die or feel that way forever. And then, in a moment of utter madness. I said: "Maybe I should go to Africa!". But where? Who do I know? What would I do? What is it like? Is Canada my home or is Africa? Are the people who say that I don't belong, am not Canadian; any more Canadian than I? Who's country is this? Where are they? And so I researched. I looked into the horrific history of this country that was glossed over in history class. The broken native peoples, generations separated, shamed; "civilized". That even I, the black. Was somehow more "acceptable" than them. Those "Indians". Nothing but drunks, rapists, murderers, drug dealers and losers . Than I looked at America. Those blacks. Australia. Those natives. Nothing but drunks, rapists, murderers, drug dealers and losers. Everywhere I looked that had been colonized, it was the ones being subjugated, colonized; that were the worse off. The so called, "plagues" of society. And so I asked myself: "Well. How can this be possible that all these people, across different continents and oceans; were all somehow just inherently wicked, broken and bloodthirsty? Just worse than white people?". There had to be a common element. Something that worldwide, from the most secluded villages to the largest skyscrapers; that made some people good, and others bad.
Without the night, the stars would not be as beautiful. We are blessed with great intellect as human beings. Capable of greatness and relentless in our destructiveness at the same time. The same hand of the doctor that heals a white boy in Tuskegee, is the same one that infects a black man in Tuskegee. Our brains, these spongy blobs of tissue have split the atom and forged spears. We are analytical, curious, observant...remembering ancient stories; and forgetting recent history. As I delved deeper into this weird pattern of behaviour. I saw that it was not necessarily a "racist" thing of "we're better and that's true" as it was simply a means to control others. Europeans captured and enslaved one another. As did Arabs, Asians, Africans, Americans. One group would come in, dismantle another and take over or destroy outright. Because you see, there was always this fear. A fear that the ones once subjugated; would rise up and seek retribution unless they were either assimilated or destroyed. That the sons would rise up and kill their fathers. So for the longest time around the world, conquering literally meant that. Whether peoples had green eyes, blue eyed; one was better and the other was wicked. Whether people had red hair or brown. One was pure and the other wicked. Any difference between peoples was always seen as a symbol of their greatness or a symbol of their weakness. And these things have changed over time. Even the colour of ones skin.
After weeks of painstaking research, I came to a simple conclusion. Racism, sexism...all these things are not evil. Or wicked. But simply the refuge of those that are weak in their own self worth. It is a tremor that shakes from the very core of their being, to their hearts and onto their tongues. A severe inferiority complex as could ever be. For if one is truly confident, strong in their superiority; what need is there to boast? To hold others down, prevent access to learning? Health? *true* freedom? What ever could those of us too weak minded or bodied ever hope to accomplish against such true might? If a white man were truly superior to a black man, then would he not say to the black man: "Come! Let us settle this matter once and for all!" And give the black man the exact same resources and conditions that he gives his fellow man to succeed? To prove beyond a doubt his superiority? But. Those who go down that path know this all too well. That is why they shout from their living rooms and around the world: "*WE*". "*WE*. DID THIS." Because *they* have not. For all their speech of accomplishment, achievement and wonder. Such people talk only of the past and are ever so fearful of the future. A future in which all are given the same freedoms and opportunity. Where no longer can a person born with a silver spoon sit atop a perch and claim: "Look! At all that my history has done! I may have not done anything myself, but look! Look at all that has *been* done!". Because the people will listen, then look amongst themselves in confusion and ask him or her: "And you. What have *you* done?".
This, is the answer that I have come too. The definition of judgement by character and not judgement of the physical. But rather of the capable. Because let there be no mistake. There is a narrative that is being pushed, whether consciously or otherwise. And it is not that of true equality, but of obscurity. Of a zero sum game. And it is that fear of losing the perch, of no longer being special because of ones ancestry, sex, gender or otherwise that continues this perversion of innocent minds in the form of racism. However. It is by that same insidious poison that deals it to others, that the dealer hurts them-self. Because by ignoring their own failings, by pretending that they do not have any whatsoever and shining a harsher light on others and embarrassing them, challenging them; calling them out for the slightest of mistakes; that those under the light grow. Those who cast the light on others and laugh, laugh only at the shadows surrounding them. This is why so many young white people continue to struggle with drug use, pregnancy, delinquency and mental scarring. Because the society we live in is too far vested in keeping an eye on minorities; in supporting that narrative. That they fail to see that they are about to drive over their own children on the road.
This is the fallacy of racism. Of blind hate. Nobody wins. The legacy of slavery specifically in the America's is not a chain that has bonded those of African descent only; but also that of whites. I am of African descent. I have never been a slave, my family has never been slaves. But I am treated as if I am incompetent, talked to like a child. Given a burden with such weight and history that I can never work it off in all the days of my life. And there are many white people as well that have never been slave owners or like my family, are recent arrivals. Yet they too are burdened with a history. And so shall their children and their children's children. It is nothing short of a curse that humanity has inflicted upon itself. Anywhere you go around the world, you will find ethnic conflict and mistrust. But there is a dangerous problem if we are unable to judge one another, criticize and grow if at any incident, it turns into a colour issue. Everything, is a colour issue. And so maybe when the cashier gives me my change in a haughty manner, she is just having a bad day, or when a teenager drives by and calls me a nigger; he or she doesn't know history because we gloss over it? Because the truth is, there are racists. Pure and dangerous. But there are also people, people who don't necessarily think about every action or word that they utter and can make honest mistakes without realizing that their words may hurt.
If anything, it is in knowing that you have done something wrong and not acknowledging it; that makes a person bad. Not in making a mistake and then attempting to rectify it. There are days still where I wake up and say: "I wish I was somewhere where colour wasn't an issue.". Then I smile and realize that if it wasn't colour, it would be something else. As history has gladly proven.
Where I am now, I'm uncertain. But I am clear on my initial thoughts. That people are just trying to get by in most cases and not out to purposely harm others. It is incredibly difficult not to take hate, internalize it, blame people similar to you for "being the bad ones" and or turn it back on your attackers. But I'm thankful, glad; that the empathy I'd tried so hard ot get rid of. Figure out how to lose or destroy, has never left me. Because it helps me when I reach those low points to remember that the people who hurt me, are not the people I want to lash out against. And I think that's the point where most people fail. It takes a truly mature and discerning mindset to not fall sway to emotion and rush off to "get back" at ones attackers or defend people that you don't even know; simply because you share something in common with them physically. I almost made "friends" with some bad people because I just wanted to feel a sense of belonging, to be wanted, desired. And while we all do go through that at points in our lives; it can be easily distorted by those able to see through your pain and corrupt that sense of wanting to belong into something else.
So I'll keep trying. That's my goal for the year. Keep trying. Judge on character and action, not on looks and talk alone. Because there are many people that talk and do nothing, and many that are silent; but do much. So. It's good to be back on GAF I suppose. "Home away from home" and all that. In a way I feel a little disingenuous posting it here though because admittedly, I feel that you all will understand this better than the rest of GAF. As most of you in here are black/African/other minorities and can understand the frustration on a deeper level(Not to say that white people don't go through the same things). Echo chambers are never really good for honesty...
Crush, I like your post. You should make a thread with it. Somehow I think it would make for good conversation in the general forum. The thread title has to bee good though, and there needs to be a TLR.
I took it as kinda tongue in cheek.
R. I took it as kinda tongue in cheek.
that's a good distillation of the source of racism and sexism, just fear and weakness.
it's a huge discussion though. Why does one class of white beat the other down and use them as a buffer against other races? And it becomes even more clear when you see the history of the Brits the Scots and the Irish.
Great post, Crush, and welcome back. I'm with Timedog: I think your post would make for a great discussion.
I go through this a lot myself. Mostly back in high school, but even nowadays, I have to catch myself. At times, I don't feel like I can relate to black folk, and it causes me to - I guess - lash out. Like you said, it's an internalization thing. Like when people tell me, "ReiGun, you'll never date a black girl." Why can't I? I ask myself. Then, I find myself getting angry at all the thing I'm supposed to be and do as a black man. And getting angry at those people - even my friends - who embody those traits more than myself. And, well like you said, it ricochets.
I don't mean to hijack your post or bite you or anything, but that just really hit me and where I'm at right now. Really great piece.
I go through this a lot myself. Mostly back in high school, but even nowadays, I have to catch myself. At times, I don't feel like I can relate to black folk, and it causes me to - I guess - lash out. Like you said, it's an internalization thing. Like when people tell me, "ReiGun, you'll never date a black girl." Why can't I? I ask myself. Then, I find myself getting angry at all the thing I'm supposed to be and do as a black man. And getting angry at those people - even my friends - who embody those traits more than myself. And, well like you said, it ricochets.
I don't mean to hijack your post or bite you or anything, but that just really hit me and where I'm at right now. Really great piece.
Oldschoolgamer
The physical form of blasphemy
Yea, make the thread. Glad to see you're making progess. It's a long, and often times difficult, road.
talisayNon
Member
PartTimeWarrior
Banned
Vita brothers, the VHBL game has been announced!
VHBL?
PartTimeWarrior
Banned
Exploit to run PSP homebrew on the Vita
Byakuya769
Member
Damn, Crush. Glad you're making progress. That was an incredibly introspective post.
Jackben
bitch I'm taking calls.
Great post, Crush thanks for sharing. Spot on with your points. I'll echo that such writing is worthy of its own thread.
GotEmRunnin
Member
I read Crush post in Walter Cronkite voice making it that much more effective. I do think that would make a good thread also.
PartTimeWarrior
Banned
Dude you don't even know. He first appearance had him driving a car bomb.
You're joking...right?
I'm with you on the gun thing. If Superman can't a bald guy in a power suit, how some space cop gonna' take down a super villain alien with a hand gun?
Great post man. It was extremely well written, introspective in the best way possible and quite poetic at times. You have a great way with words!
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