All those White people.
Son of Roxie

I have to admit that even among the histrionic ‘I see White people!’ SJW racialist pearl-clutching, which seems to exist as a whole separate sub-genre on Medium, this one is exceptional:

After speaking engagement after speaking engagement to overwhelmingly white audiences, I was tired. I just wanted to teach, and then I wanted to go home… You see, recently, I’d had trouble getting through readings of my work without crying. I really do not like crying about race in front of a room of white strangers… I remembered one time a few years back when I had been avoiding a movie review because I just couldn’t bear the thought of reviewing yet another film that participated in the erasure of people of color from the national narrative… I didn’t want to write this book. When my agent proposed it to me, my immediate response was, “I don’t want to be the White People Whisperer.” Now my world is still on fire, but people keep applauding my ability to describe the flames… My book is about race. Of course it is. I cried every day writing it. I hoped it might be a release. But there is no release from things that keep happening. I cried every day writing it. And now I cry at every reading. Did you know that it’s almost impossible to read while crying? The words blur and your throat closes and you are choking. You are choking on your own words. You are choking on your own reality.

Yikes! A hankie isn’t enough, somebody get this person a beach towel!

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.