By The Invisible Dragon
In the last seven days, I have been charged with being unconscious concerning race in America. To say I was surprise would be an understatement. I was shocked that in the 21st century I could be charged with Mutiny on the “Negro” Bounty. My accusers were swiftly forgiven along with their flawed reasoning; however they did not drop my charges. So, with malice and forethought, two felony counts of racial stupidity was read aloud in race court: Count one stated, I was ‘Not Black enough’ and count two said, ‘I lacked the unbridled hate against Whites and as a result could never be considered ‘Supremely Black’. These were serious charges; I was facing ten years in racial identity prison. I would need a good racial defense attorney…while watching Roots, I pondered along with a Samuel Adams Boston Lager about my fate.
Forgive my humorously metaphorical expression that must present this utter foolishness. Race remains one of the most unintelligent topics in society. Even so, I am serious about being charged as a sell-out and mis-educated because I do not abhor Whites. Did you know? Blacks can be ‘outed’ for speaking White, having a White wife or husband, or worse, being a Seinfeld fan. I’m guilty on the first and third charges. Let me be clear, my accusers’ premise is ‘hate’ and in no short order; they believe Whites are responsible for their predicament in America. Therefore, as a result, we (i.e., Blacks) should denounce our favorite Starbuck’s beverage and revolt. Without much effect I warned my racial combatants hate is the most self-destructive human characteristic.
Could you believe one argument from my dissenters was as old as the brakes off Moses’ chariot; (a) Blacks are the original people. I indicated my trouble with this flawed scheme as motivation for present day racial empowerment, you guessed it; I was labeled lost and confused. At that juncture, I was assaulted with rebukes like, “Why wasn’t I mad as hell at “White Folks” or “You lack an understanding to (Blacks) misery in America”. Yada, Yada, Yada (Seinfeld reference). Hey! To my distance racial warriors, with all due respect, I will not hate Whites to quantify Blackness, for you or anyone else.
Why I Don’t Hate White People
Race is a social construct (i.e., man-made) and is maintained through defective ideologists’ ramblings. The color of my skin remains a non-issue in the pursuit of peace and stillness. I owe this thinking to the biggest influence on my race identity, my parents. Thus, with much ado, I have a few reasons why hating Whites is not an option. First, I wasn’t raised in a racist home environment; I never heard my parents use racially insensitive words towards Whites. My parents never ranted on Whites or slavery being responsible for our racial stratification. In fact, the first White person I met was my mother’s friend, Diane. I have never forgotten her because she baked me an M&M chocolate cake for my fifth birthday. I also had a best friend in third grade (Thomas) who was White. He had freckles. But I never saw anything wrong with my friend. One could imply I was naïve in that I did not comprehend the world around me, I would say B.S. The world around me was my reality; thus I loved my improvised childhood, the many Blacks, and two Whites in it. Kudos, too my uneducated parents and the job they did under the circumstances.
My biggest role model outside my father was Muhammad Ali, a boxer formally known as Cassius Clay. He had such an enormous impact on my racial identity. Watching him was one of the greatest adventures of my life. He was a marvel of spirit and empowerment; his Bronze body straggled with self-confidence and glowed with intense Blackness. Ali spoke about the unfair conditions Blacks lived under in America, however his premise wasn’t hate. I never heard Ali rail on the ‘evil’ White folks coming to get me or that they could hold me down. Without question, America’s racism was and is one of the most brutal on historical record and Ali spoke about it with calm. His message and my parents were to love myself and I wasn’t a nigger and could never be made into one.
Another reason I do not denounce Whitey, I have never bought into the superior inferior skin pigmentation idea. You see, too maintain racial hate you must prescribe to a sort of mythology. In other words, you must buy into a false social construct that race is genetic. However skin color means absolutely nothing, biologically. Unfortunately, however, when some become married to racial myths, they become stuck in time. As a result, you literally are unable to forward their consciousness one bit in discourse. Finally, if you use race (i.e., skin color) as a motivating factor to the argument of down with Whitey and up with Blacks, you’re stuck in sort of thoughtless cement, screaming in the mirror.
Personally, and unfortunately, I comprehend racism as a normal process of human evolution. I come to understand had Blacks had the power we would have enslaved Whites. I mean just imagine we were enslaving our own people in Africa long before Whites arrived. However it appears to be a popular misnomer that Blacks had a utopia in Africa until the White man’s invasion, Bullshit. Whites enslaved us only with the help of African tribal chiefs walking us to those slave ships. By the way, there exist factual records African tribal leaders knew our fate also, there is no damn excuse, we sold ourselves into slavery. Without question slavery was a normal function in the evolution of humans. I fell to believe if the shoe was on the other foot we would not had Whites working in those Mississippi cotton fields.
Race is a social construct created by humans; it does not have a genetic marker. In reality, I have the potential to share genes with a White as much as my deceased mother. If Black supremacy bases their racial debate on pigmentation; “What contrast exists between the White idiots insisting Blacks are less than human because of skin color?” The individuals who questioned my Blackness are stuck in time clenching to an unconscious methodology. Also, Blacks who persist on using Whites as their inspiration to return to a mythical life are pregnant with emotional instability. Sadly, these individuals recklessly throw darts at other Blacks who do not regurgitate their Kool-Aid. To these (so-called, real Blacks) you either hate Whitey or you cannot enter the “The Real Black” club. Well, you know what; I do not want to join your (RHA) race haters’ anonymous club anyhow.