Friday, June 11, 2021

White for Life


The skin covering my entire body is not white but more of a tannish color, with some pink in a few areas like the palms of my hands and my lips. Since birth I have been told I am a white person and have accepted it as no big deal, it was just me. Now I find out I am terribly racist just for walking around like this, which I thought is the exact definition of Racism: judging someone by the color of their skin. Apparently I'm supposed to not only not be racist, but be actively anti-racist, and my ignorance about what that entails is just further evidence of my racism.

Long ago I had several close black friends, back when I lived in New York City and Washington, D.C. Now I live in Maine and have none, since they are few and far between here. Does that make me a racist? I'm not sure what I'm doing wrong. Until I find out I guess I will continue to be white, and thus by the popular woke definition of today, a racist. 

Sorry.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Pity the Poor Pacifist

Despite the fact that no fighting is taking place on our shores, to be alive today in America is to live with the knowledge of the continuin...