So am I now considered a racist because I don't like grape soda? Or maybe because I have never dated or been attracted to a black man, despite having had many black male friends over the years? (The one exception was Gregory Hines, who's dead now and has been for years, sadly.) Could it be because I refuse to capitalize the word "black" in my writing? (I don't because the word black indicates a color, like green or yellow or red or white or purple or ochre or tan or magenta or cyan, and not a proper noun.) And I absolutely detest collard greens and also fried chicken. That might be proof enough.
Hmm, the case against me is growing. I do not have a Black Lives Matter sign on my lawn, in fact I consider them embarrassing examples of virtue signaling by people who possibly have never even met a black person, especially here in Maine. I won't vacation in the South, unless you count Florida which is more like going to New York, although I did go to Haiti and loved it. (That should help my defense.) I never saw 12 Years A Slave because I find slavery extremely depressing so why would I sit and watch it in a movie? I also never saw Hidden Figures, Fences or Hamilton -- no interest.
Oh well, once Biden and what's-her-face -- I don't use her name because I'm afraid I'll pronounce it wrong and be accused of racism -- take over and average white Americans start being tried for racism and thought crimes, I guess I'll find out what I've been doing wrong. Until then I'll keep wondering why my son says I am a racist.
No comments:
Post a Comment