imran

I have a question. 

From where i stand, it seems like in your country, race and identity are manipulated in order to foster division within the working class. Which could explain why America has not transitioned into a social democracy yet, because subjects like socialized healthcare, employment security, public services, ecology etc transcend race and identity, and since they do, they’re not considered a priority contrary to race and identity-related problems. 

Since the working class is divided, since there is a lot of hostility between some of its members, and a hostility that is encouraged by today’s activists of every political leaning, then it can’t unite, can’t define priorities and in fine can’t achieve progress on the social field.

I explain to her it isn’t racism, and that she shouldn’t feel guilty? Or is she right?

Hey, sorry for the late reply!

Well, it seems those teens need to be educated on some things. But as for your white friend…TL;DR will be at the bottom.

She shouldn’t feel guilty for being white but rather address being white and having white privilege (which she does and that is good). However, white people don’t experience racism because it has to do with a combination of many things such as: 

History of oppression

Oppression by institutional and systematic discrimination through social, political, economical, and other means

Power to control society and enforce oppression, or the lack of power

And etc.

A white person’s feelings being hurt through stereotypes or assumptions is NOT racism. This is known as prejudice and does not have the institutional or systematic oppression behind it. Racism is not the same as prejudice so white people need to stop confusing the two. This isn’t to say prejudice is okay but they’re not even close to being the same.

The reason why white people can only feel racial prejudice at most and NOT racism is because society as a whole still benefits white people while discriminating against everyone else who isn’t white.

And NO: scholarships, programs, or media castings that call for People of Color are not racist towards white people. That is an effort to uplift People of Color because all throughout history (and even today), we have been denied the basic rights to pursue life, liberty, and happiness.

And NO again: just because some People of Color are rich or have positions of power does not mean white people can now experience racism. Class privilege for a few People of Color does not mean institutional or systematic oppression against white people. Nor does class privilege mean that racism against People of Color is over.

And NO for the third time: making up random scenarios where People of Color are in control of the whole world does not make white people experience racism. Hypothetical situations of one’s imagination doesn’t work here.

TL;DR: Your friend may experience prejudice from individuals at school but the rest of society and all the institutions that make it are not going to discriminate against her simply because she’s white. Therefore, she doesn’t experience racism but does experience prejudice.

Gay rights activists aren’t working against straight marriage. Homophobes are working against gay marriage.

Pro-choice activists don’t want everyone to get an abortion, they want everyone to have to option to. “Pro-lifers” want nobody to get an abortion, whether or not the pregnancy is safe or the parent is ready or well equipped.

People fighting for racial rights aren’t asking for to be treated better than white people, they’re asking to be treated the same as white people, while white supremacists/racists want minorities to have less rights than them, or for other races to be straight up eradicated.

A storyteller. That’s what you are, you know. You’re a storyteller. We all are. This world was made for stories.

Our stories run through our veins. The broken glass from our homes, the aromas of vanilla sugar cookies baking in the oven, the sunrises and the sunsets, the shared giggles, the bullies who tormented you, the friends who saved you, the teachers who loved you, the bus drivers who hated you… Like water, we need those things to survive. What is life if there is no one to hear about it?

Whenever I began to share my story I was afraid. Because sharing means signing up for the judgement, and criticism, and heart ache - airing those skeletons meant they were in the open for everyone to see. And while it is common knowledge that no one is perfect, detailing those imperfections was not high on my bucket list. But I did it scared. With shaking hands and bated breath, I wrote. I wrote about the awfulness and the joy. I wrote about fear and hope and the redemptive power of love. The process was not graceful. It hurt. I fell. I continue to fall.

Cracking open your heart is not an easy task. Ripping those chains from your shame and allowing your secrets to breathe is hard. It is devastating to place your fragile heart in another’s hands. It is even more devastating to watch them crush it beneath their fingers. But it is all the more freeing to remove that weight from inside of your chest. Especially when it is given to someone who needs to fill a hole inside of their own.

The first time I shared my spoken words instead of written ones I spoke so quickly and my hands shook so violently that I had to pause in the middle of it. I had to take a deep breath, lift my chin, and brace myself for the inevitable hard glances. Because where there are faults there are judgments. That is a simple evil of life.

But I did it anyway. I did it scared. And because I tightened my bootstraps and squared my shoulders, I changed lives. Some young women approached me and explained that my vulnerability taught them it was okay to be afraid. That it was alright to have messed up a little (or a lot). That, ultimately, their life was theirs to leave - not anyone else’s. 

Whatever it is you’re so afraid to tell, tell it. Speak of the knives in your back and the stitch in your side and the chip on your shoulder. Share stories of grief and solitude and overcoming. Tell the world about the terrible things inside of you. Remind the world that those things will never win.

Whatever your story is, share it. The broken places are where the light gets in. We love to talk about our scars, but so rarely do we ever show them.

Do it scared. Chances are, there’s someone out there who needs to know there’s someone out there just as afraid as them. You are treasured. You are valuable. You are sacred.  All of those things you’ve been through mean something. All of the things you will go through mean something. 

Share your truth. Even when you don’t think you can. That’s when you need to do it the most.