Boo-boo unless you live it, you don’t know it.
How do we know? Through conversations with our bosses and coworkers and neighbors and even our white friends. You know right up until we have one of *these* conversations.
Its when people, just like you (and I can see what a really nice Jewish guy you are) have no problem telling adults and correcting adults on what their lives are, what their lived experiences are, what their perceptions are.
You, nice guy though you are, and ostensibly trying to have intelligent conversations with (black people?), have continually placed himself in a superior position during these exchanges. You’re the judge. You’re the jury. You’re deciding what’s real and what’s not.
We just told you. And you corrected us. We just told you. And you scolded our perceptions. We just told you. And you reprimanded us on our wrongheadedness. We just told you. And you demanded proof and decided whether it met your standards. We just told you. And you told us how we should live, and think, and perceive, and feel, and how to raise our kids.
*This* right here. Right now is a perfect example - you
Yeah, you, nice Jewish guy, that you are, just scolded a bunch of adults who live their experiences everyday. Ones you’ll *never* have because they’ll be coming from a different place.
How do we know what white people think of us? Because they tell us. They say things like. “You’re so articulate!” (You speak standard English with appropriate grammar and pronunciation.) “You know, I don’t think of you as a black person. You’re so different.” (You’re not thuggish or ghetto — whatever the hell that means.) “You wrote this???” (A business letter written in standard business English or maybe an excellently written term paper.) “You live *there*!? Its a nice neighborhood!!!” (Any neighborhood that ain’t the ghetto.) ‘You’re really smart!” (You just did something any half-competent person should be able to do.) “Did you understand what was said in the meeting?” (Why wouldn’t you? The meeting was conducted in English, your first language. Was Swahili being spoken just now?) “How do you know how to do that?” (Its arithmetic. You just calculated your annual salary from the hourly rate. You calculated how far a thunderstorm was based on light and sound travel. Uh, grade school?) “Why is your tongue red, like mine?” (Let’s let this one lay there, stinking up the joint.)
I could go on, but its exhausting. And, yes, every single one of those comments have been made to me — in the workplace, no less.)
But here’s the last one. Proving to white assholes like yourself, who have convinced themselves they’re good guys, enlightened, and simply trying to reach across the color divide but expect black people to *prove* their lived experiences to *your* satisfaction. I have one question — Just, who the hell are you??? Yeah, we encounter people like you all the time, too.
So, you just joined *those* white people. Bet you didn’t think you were one of them, did you? Next time you want to have a conversation. Have one. Next time you want to scold and correct and teach, go find one of your kids, if you have any, to impart your superior wisdom.
Now you can tell your white friends. Gee, I tried talking to *those* people, but they’re impossible.
But, you weren’t talking to us. Hence, I’m impossible. Yeah, we know you, too. Thirty years ago, I would have been patient and polite. Now, I’ll tell you and people just like you to go fuc…yourselves.
Go work on *you*, first.