Every so often, I hear the term "white privilege" being thrown around. It's been repeated so often, it's known as fact among most people, whether of color or not. I ran across two articles that demonstrated what I mean perfectly: 17 Deplorable Examples of White Privilege and White Privilege Explained in a Comic. They express a lot of common ideas about white privilege, the main one being that more people of color are incarcerated than Caucasian individuals. A lot of these ideas are myths or symptoms of a different problem. The 17 examples article is a good one to dissect.
I will be using African American, black people, non-white, people of color, and racial minority interchangeably in this article, because the majority of the people who are crying ''white privilege'' are black and want to keep the race discussion black and white.
A former friend once posted on Facebook that he was pulled over by a cop one time. Instead of remaining in the car, he chose to get out of the car and try talking with the cop. He claimed later it was due to his white privilege. It sounds more like stupidity to me. Anyone with half a brain knows that cops are armed, and if someone tries to get out of a car when pulled over, they are likely either trying to run or confront the cop. If you're a cop, being leery of someone getting out of their car when you've pulled them over makes sense, regardless of the person's race. Cops are not discriminating against black people anymore than white people when it comes to traffic stops, being pulled over, stop and frisk operations, drug busts, or any other crimes. Crime is crime, and if you commit a crime, you deserve to be punished, black or white.
The reason why there are more black people in prison is due to two things: history and gang culture. African Americans did not have the same opportunities Caucasian people did, as early as fifty years ago. At the time, black people did suffer from ''systemic racism'', and they had to work harder to reach the same place as their Caucasian colleagues. Affirmative Action policies only helped get a few minority families into suburbia, but once there, they provided enough middle and upper class minority employees to fill race quotas, and poor minorities were again being skipped over. This large gap led many people to crime, out of desperation or rebellion, and many were arrested. Soon, though, criminal activity became popular among the poor non-white communities, and gang culture became much more wide-spread in the nineties. With many minority parents not having the time to raise their kids, many minorities were raised by gangster rap, believing it was how they were supposed to be. The story of a rags-to-riches kind of guy is a powerful draw for someone who has nothing, so it makes sense that a lot of minority kids turned to gangs to try to make a life for themselves. Unfortunately, many of them end up in prison. Gang culture and poverty combine to create this result, not racism.
A lot of people think white people aren't judged by the way they dress. This simply isn't true. If you go into a store looking like trash, store owners and other customers will be leery of you because you look like the kind of person who is more likely to rob the store and patrons than someone else. Being suspicious of someone who looks different from you is human nature, and has been scientifically proven time and again. If you look like a meth-head or a gangster, you'll be the target of suspicion. The only reason this part of human behavior has been lumped into ''white privilege'' is because gang culture made dressing like trash popular for black kids.
A lot of people think racial minorities are less likely to be hired because they are black. The exact opposite is true. Affirmative action policies give people of color an unfair advantage, as do scholarships and colleges designed specifically for people of color. Racial minorities actually have more opportunities for advancement than Caucasian people do, when comparing two people of equal social/economic status. The only reason black people seem to be hired less is black people, on average, and due to the reasons already mentioned before, tend to be poorer than their white counterparts.
People think people of color are the only ones who are poor. Not true. While the poor black kids may be in the inner cities, the poor white kids are everywhere in between the cities, working the farms or the tiny businesses that happen to stay afloat in the areas between cities. We have nothing more to look forward to than the local gas station or fast food restaurant, simply because, like inner-city black kids, we had the misfortune of being born into poor families. We have no more ability to move and live where we'd like to than poor black people. We have no more ability to get a job or education than poor black people. A lot of this nation's poor are white, and we don't get to have these 'white privileges'.
Let me show you what actual racism and privilege looks like.
White people do not have congressional committees, civil rights organizations, affirmative action policies, or race-specific institutions designed to advance our needs. We simply get by with what we have. Having these is a privilege black people and other racial minorities have that we don't. This is Black Privilege.
We cannot participate in any sort of racial diversity activities as examples of diversity without being shamed for being white. We cannot claim to be proud of who we are as white people, for fear of being labelled racist. These are things racial minorities do not have to worry about. This is Black Privilege.
We are as legitimate a target for racism as anyone else, but our concerns are never heard. We're excluded from job opportunities because we're not a racial minority. We don't have mobs of people going after police because a white person was shot for doing something stupid. Racial minorities do. This is Black Privilege.
Every discussion on 'white privilege' conducted by racial minorities discusses neighborhoods being ''under attack'' by white cops and white privilege. Every discussion is less about changing things for the better and more about blaming white people for everyone's problems. Where have I heard this before? Oh yeah, the same things have been said about gay people by conservative Christians for years. This is racism, performed by racial minorities against Caucasian people, and not only is it tolerated, it's embraced in ''diversity'' circles. Racism against racial minorities is very widely frowned upon, but the opposite, ''reverse racism'', is embraced. This is Black Privilege.
Black people can beg society to treat them the same as white people, all the while using slavery as a means to get whatever they want, claiming reparations for the sins of the father. Black people can use slavery as an excuse to continue Affirmative Action policies, to keep all-black colleges open, to justify every privilege black people have that while people do not. White people can't do this. This is Black Privilege.
I invite everyone to look upon the real victims of racism in 2015. I invite all people who cry "white privilege" to check their own privilege at the door. I ask everyone to use your brains and approach these issues like adults. If we don't, issues of poverty and crime will never be fixed.
Saturday, August 1, 2015
I'm Gay, and I'm Proud to be a Man
Somehow, I stumbled across the following Queerty article: Why do Masculine Men Look Down on Feminine Gay Men? Many familiar themes are expressed in the article: masculine gay men are only masculine to try to hide who they are when it's convenient, being masculine and gay is so much easier than being masculine and effeminate, effeminate gay men are stronger and have more courage than masculine gay men, there's no such thing as gender norms, masculine gay men are not being authentic and true to themselves. I've heard these many times over the years from effeminate gay men who are simultaneously telling me to ''be myself'', with their idea of ''myself'' being an effeminate, flaming queen.
What if I told you that when I'm being masculine, I am being true to myself? You probably wouldn't believe me. You'd think any one of the opinions expressed in the referenced article. You'd look down on me as being self-loathing, cowardly, and hateful.
Let me correct you: I am a masculine gay man, and I'm proud of who I am.
I began to realize who I was in high school. Before this point, thanks to society, I believed being gay was the same thing as being a man who acted like a woman. Then freshman year of high school happened, when I had this combination of crush and ''man crush'' (admiration, not attraction, toward another man) on a guy in my science class. He was a defensive lineman, and I found his physique to be attractive. I realized I wanted to have a body like his and I wanted him in bed next to me. I wasn't influenced by other people to think this way. I simply found that I liked how he looked. I knew I found him attractive, but didn't want to take on the 'gay' label, as I still felt it meant being effeminate.
As I came to terms with who I was over the next few years, including coming out to my family, I realized that I didn't fit in with the effeminate gay men at our school. I wasn't out yet at school, but I knew I wasn't like them in some way. I loved going to the gym, and loved the idea of joining the wrestling team. I felt like a man, and wanted to be treated like a man. For a long time I was, but only because I was closeted.
College came, and I came out.
As a recently out gay man, I wanted to find other gay men, to have a community who would be accepting of my sexuality. I thought I'd found one in the local GSA. What I found were a bunch of effeminate gay men who had driven any non-effeminate gay men out of the group by openly mocking masculinity and straight men. Many didn't believe I was actually out until I started dating my ex my sophomore year. When I tried to join the local chapter of DLP, I really began to see how much I was being rejected for doing exactly what everyone in the GSA was telling me to do all along: be myself. Fed up with the bigotry, I left the organization, and eventually the school, hoping to find greener pastures in Kansas City.
No such luck. Where anti-masculinity was confined to the LGBT community in Rolla, it was wide-spread in Kansas City. Where I could find other men to be men with in Rolla so long as I wasn't flaming, no such men existed for me in Kansas City. I went from super-conservative Rolla to super-liberal Kansas City, and found I had no place in either world. After losing my funding for college, I moved back home.
I love working with tools. I love lifting weights. I love wrestling. I love building things. I prefer bourbon because beer and wine are too weak for me. I wear work boots and wranglers instead of pastel-colored jeans. I am masculine, not because someone told me to be, but because it is who I am.
And no one will accept me.
Effeminate gay men have a community. Masculine gay men do not. Effeminate gay men aren't asked by other gay men whether they're actually gay. Masculine gay men are. Effeminate gay men can have girlfriends with whom they can be effeminate and be accepted. Masculine gay men can not. Effeminate gay men are represented in every media outlet. Masculine gay men are not.
Most masculine gay men are out of the closet, and we'll never go back in. The difference between us is whether we gently opened the closet door and let people see us or whether we kicked the door open so hard that we racked every straight guy around with the door knob. Most masculine gay men have the maturity to know that our sexuality is not relevant at three in the morning when ordering burgers, or when we're trying to stay awake while a professor teaches a boring subject. Most effeminate gay men do not.
Masculine gay men have the courage to be more than just a stereotype. We be exactly who we are, not just another caricature of the stereotype. We have the bravery to try to be men amongst other men, who are far more capable of beating the living shit out of us than effeminate men's girlfriends are.
We are not cowardly.
We are not hiding.
We are masculine gay men, and we are proud of who we are!
What if I told you that when I'm being masculine, I am being true to myself? You probably wouldn't believe me. You'd think any one of the opinions expressed in the referenced article. You'd look down on me as being self-loathing, cowardly, and hateful.
Let me correct you: I am a masculine gay man, and I'm proud of who I am.
I began to realize who I was in high school. Before this point, thanks to society, I believed being gay was the same thing as being a man who acted like a woman. Then freshman year of high school happened, when I had this combination of crush and ''man crush'' (admiration, not attraction, toward another man) on a guy in my science class. He was a defensive lineman, and I found his physique to be attractive. I realized I wanted to have a body like his and I wanted him in bed next to me. I wasn't influenced by other people to think this way. I simply found that I liked how he looked. I knew I found him attractive, but didn't want to take on the 'gay' label, as I still felt it meant being effeminate.
As I came to terms with who I was over the next few years, including coming out to my family, I realized that I didn't fit in with the effeminate gay men at our school. I wasn't out yet at school, but I knew I wasn't like them in some way. I loved going to the gym, and loved the idea of joining the wrestling team. I felt like a man, and wanted to be treated like a man. For a long time I was, but only because I was closeted.
College came, and I came out.
As a recently out gay man, I wanted to find other gay men, to have a community who would be accepting of my sexuality. I thought I'd found one in the local GSA. What I found were a bunch of effeminate gay men who had driven any non-effeminate gay men out of the group by openly mocking masculinity and straight men. Many didn't believe I was actually out until I started dating my ex my sophomore year. When I tried to join the local chapter of DLP, I really began to see how much I was being rejected for doing exactly what everyone in the GSA was telling me to do all along: be myself. Fed up with the bigotry, I left the organization, and eventually the school, hoping to find greener pastures in Kansas City.
No such luck. Where anti-masculinity was confined to the LGBT community in Rolla, it was wide-spread in Kansas City. Where I could find other men to be men with in Rolla so long as I wasn't flaming, no such men existed for me in Kansas City. I went from super-conservative Rolla to super-liberal Kansas City, and found I had no place in either world. After losing my funding for college, I moved back home.
I love working with tools. I love lifting weights. I love wrestling. I love building things. I prefer bourbon because beer and wine are too weak for me. I wear work boots and wranglers instead of pastel-colored jeans. I am masculine, not because someone told me to be, but because it is who I am.
And no one will accept me.
Effeminate gay men have a community. Masculine gay men do not. Effeminate gay men aren't asked by other gay men whether they're actually gay. Masculine gay men are. Effeminate gay men can have girlfriends with whom they can be effeminate and be accepted. Masculine gay men can not. Effeminate gay men are represented in every media outlet. Masculine gay men are not.
Most masculine gay men are out of the closet, and we'll never go back in. The difference between us is whether we gently opened the closet door and let people see us or whether we kicked the door open so hard that we racked every straight guy around with the door knob. Most masculine gay men have the maturity to know that our sexuality is not relevant at three in the morning when ordering burgers, or when we're trying to stay awake while a professor teaches a boring subject. Most effeminate gay men do not.
Masculine gay men have the courage to be more than just a stereotype. We be exactly who we are, not just another caricature of the stereotype. We have the bravery to try to be men amongst other men, who are far more capable of beating the living shit out of us than effeminate men's girlfriends are.
We are not cowardly.
We are not hiding.
We are masculine gay men, and we are proud of who we are!
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
The Problem with Activism in America
I came out as a gay man the day after high school graduation. It was subtle, as all I did was change a bit of information on my Facebook profile and post a statement saying I'd be happy to field questions from anyone who wanted to ask some. My freshman year of college was the year I started to become comfortable with being out, and as I wanted to have gay-friendly friends, I joined the local gay-straight alliance. In order to fit in with the group, I participated in the activism efforts in which that group engaged. It was the first time I'd been able to actively fight for gay equality and rights, and it felt good to do so.
There was just one problem: activism in America is all-or-nothing. An American activist can't fight for gay rights without also supporting the trans activists, the feminists, the racial minority activists, the poor activists, atheists, environmental activists, special needs activists, vegans, and any other group that would fit under the commonly accepted umbrella term of 'liberal', without question. There's nothing necessarily wrong with any of these other groups, but if you aren't concerned with one of these particular movements or, god forbid, disagree with anyone who does support them, you're automatically labelled a horrible human being, labelled as opposing all of the 'liberal' movements that exist, and are no longer taken seriously when it comes to activism. By not fitting into the liberal label perfectly, you are shunned by those who believe they do, and the other side of the commonly accepted political binary does the same exact thing. This is the problem with activism in America.
I didn't notice this my first year or two of college. I was too busy trying to fit in with the members of the GSA to notice anything. Like many of the members, I wore shirts which said "gay? fine by me." in order to passively fight for LGBT rights and improve our visibility. I wasn't flaming, and I didn't make everything in my life about my sexuality, but I made it present enough to appease most of the people in the GSA. When discussions came up in the GSA about feminism, veganism, atheism, or any other liberal topics, I thought nothing of it. I even pledged for the local chapter of Delta Lambda Phi, the national fraternity for gay and gay-friendly men, seeing as most of the guys in the GSA were members themselves and I wanted to fit in. It wasn't until I started seeking counseling for the emotional and psychological problems that resulted from my upbringing that I started to place less value on what others thought of me. I learned to push through some parts of my social anxiety and express myself with less fear of the receiver's reaction than I once had, and with that breakthrough came a greater sense of independence with regard to what I thought and felt. That's when I started noticing problems.
I depledged a week before initiation as I'd noticed that I was being left out of a good deal of things DLP related. I didn't have a firm grasp of why I was being treated this way, but I eventually realized that trying to fit in with a group of people who didn't want me would be destructive. It wasn't until my next year when I began living in a house which hosted many DLP-related activities that I noticed the main problem: I was different. Where many members of the local chapter of DLP would make fun of straight and straight-acting men, I found myself feeling kinship. Where effeminate people were quick to blame masculine men for all of the world's problems, I would look for other sources. I'm a bear. I like bears. I'm the type of gay man who doesn't look down on being a man. I accepted and embraced my masculinity, and this pushed me away from the mainstream gay community. When I realized that having a female-to-male trans president the next year wouldn't help anything, I stopped being involved with the local GSA, but I continued to wear "gay? fine by me" and bear-related shirts so I could participate in activism without the need to be involved in the local clique.
I transferred to UMKC during my fifth and final year of college. I'd heard it was a good school for LGBT people, and since I'd wanted to try living in Kansas City, I transferred. Unfortunately, this happened right about the time the Michael Brown case gained public attention, and with it came a great deal of racial friction between the African-American community and the Caucasian community. I wasn't too concerned, as I believed that a good deal of college-aged liberal people who had actually lived in the real world would be more reasonable than the overgrown children I'd gone to school with in Rolla. I attended the local GSA for a few weeks, noticing that my masculinity was more accepted there than it was in Rolla. However, I began to notice a few things. This GSA wasn't being a GSA; it was becoming more of a trans-activist group. I have no problems with the trans community or their fight for acceptance, but I believe the trans and LGB movements should have been separate, and the only reason they were together in the first place was due to the effeminate gay man stereotype. Something else began to crystallize in my mind when something interesting happened in one of the meetings. One of the students, who was of a racial minority, proposed the idea of creating groups specifically for LGBT individuals who were of racial minorities. The idea wasn't a bad one, but the justification was. He claimed the LGBT community wasn't doing anything for LGBT people who were racial minorities. No one in the group disagreed with him. It was at this point that I realized I couldn't participate in this GSA either, as this group, and the campus as a whole, was more focused on promoting a form of racial diversity that barely tolerated white people rather than fighting for gay rights. Neither the liberal or conservative areas were being reasonable when it came to activism. Because of this, I ended my role in LGBT activism and packed my "gay? fine by me" shirts away.
I had one last glimmer of hope left: the bear community. Being mostly separate from the college campuses and being celebratory of masculinity, I'd hoped I could find some acceptance among my fellow bears. It didn't happen. The third and final straw in my search for LGBT acceptance came with a problem which existed both in Rolla and KC: the belief in atheist superiority. I'm an agnostic, and have no problems with people having beliefs that are different from me, but the latter point is where I seem to differ a great deal from other people. I'd seen it in Rolla, in KC, and among the bear community: anyone with a belief in some form of God was looked down upon as not being a real gay person and not caring about the LGBT struggle. Theists were often viewed as foolish for believing what they could not prove, and they could find no acceptance in the LGBT community. I should know, because at one point I held this belief. One day, though, someone (I can't remember who) brought up a very good point: atheism is a religion in itself and acts like one. The fact that I seemed to be one of the only people who saw this alienated me from the atheist community and from one of the last fronts of the LGBT community I could participate in. That was when I stopped LGBT activism all together and packed my bear shirts away.
I won't try to label myself when it comes to my beliefs. I'm not liberal. I'm not conservative. I'm not easily categorized into a binary system. Because of this, I can no longer effectively participate in activism. Neither can anyone else who is the least bit reasonable. The only thing we can do is vote. But I fear that with hoards of people screaming for radicalism, the whisper of reason will be drowned out.
There was just one problem: activism in America is all-or-nothing. An American activist can't fight for gay rights without also supporting the trans activists, the feminists, the racial minority activists, the poor activists, atheists, environmental activists, special needs activists, vegans, and any other group that would fit under the commonly accepted umbrella term of 'liberal', without question. There's nothing necessarily wrong with any of these other groups, but if you aren't concerned with one of these particular movements or, god forbid, disagree with anyone who does support them, you're automatically labelled a horrible human being, labelled as opposing all of the 'liberal' movements that exist, and are no longer taken seriously when it comes to activism. By not fitting into the liberal label perfectly, you are shunned by those who believe they do, and the other side of the commonly accepted political binary does the same exact thing. This is the problem with activism in America.
I didn't notice this my first year or two of college. I was too busy trying to fit in with the members of the GSA to notice anything. Like many of the members, I wore shirts which said "gay? fine by me." in order to passively fight for LGBT rights and improve our visibility. I wasn't flaming, and I didn't make everything in my life about my sexuality, but I made it present enough to appease most of the people in the GSA. When discussions came up in the GSA about feminism, veganism, atheism, or any other liberal topics, I thought nothing of it. I even pledged for the local chapter of Delta Lambda Phi, the national fraternity for gay and gay-friendly men, seeing as most of the guys in the GSA were members themselves and I wanted to fit in. It wasn't until I started seeking counseling for the emotional and psychological problems that resulted from my upbringing that I started to place less value on what others thought of me. I learned to push through some parts of my social anxiety and express myself with less fear of the receiver's reaction than I once had, and with that breakthrough came a greater sense of independence with regard to what I thought and felt. That's when I started noticing problems.
I depledged a week before initiation as I'd noticed that I was being left out of a good deal of things DLP related. I didn't have a firm grasp of why I was being treated this way, but I eventually realized that trying to fit in with a group of people who didn't want me would be destructive. It wasn't until my next year when I began living in a house which hosted many DLP-related activities that I noticed the main problem: I was different. Where many members of the local chapter of DLP would make fun of straight and straight-acting men, I found myself feeling kinship. Where effeminate people were quick to blame masculine men for all of the world's problems, I would look for other sources. I'm a bear. I like bears. I'm the type of gay man who doesn't look down on being a man. I accepted and embraced my masculinity, and this pushed me away from the mainstream gay community. When I realized that having a female-to-male trans president the next year wouldn't help anything, I stopped being involved with the local GSA, but I continued to wear "gay? fine by me" and bear-related shirts so I could participate in activism without the need to be involved in the local clique.
I transferred to UMKC during my fifth and final year of college. I'd heard it was a good school for LGBT people, and since I'd wanted to try living in Kansas City, I transferred. Unfortunately, this happened right about the time the Michael Brown case gained public attention, and with it came a great deal of racial friction between the African-American community and the Caucasian community. I wasn't too concerned, as I believed that a good deal of college-aged liberal people who had actually lived in the real world would be more reasonable than the overgrown children I'd gone to school with in Rolla. I attended the local GSA for a few weeks, noticing that my masculinity was more accepted there than it was in Rolla. However, I began to notice a few things. This GSA wasn't being a GSA; it was becoming more of a trans-activist group. I have no problems with the trans community or their fight for acceptance, but I believe the trans and LGB movements should have been separate, and the only reason they were together in the first place was due to the effeminate gay man stereotype. Something else began to crystallize in my mind when something interesting happened in one of the meetings. One of the students, who was of a racial minority, proposed the idea of creating groups specifically for LGBT individuals who were of racial minorities. The idea wasn't a bad one, but the justification was. He claimed the LGBT community wasn't doing anything for LGBT people who were racial minorities. No one in the group disagreed with him. It was at this point that I realized I couldn't participate in this GSA either, as this group, and the campus as a whole, was more focused on promoting a form of racial diversity that barely tolerated white people rather than fighting for gay rights. Neither the liberal or conservative areas were being reasonable when it came to activism. Because of this, I ended my role in LGBT activism and packed my "gay? fine by me" shirts away.
I had one last glimmer of hope left: the bear community. Being mostly separate from the college campuses and being celebratory of masculinity, I'd hoped I could find some acceptance among my fellow bears. It didn't happen. The third and final straw in my search for LGBT acceptance came with a problem which existed both in Rolla and KC: the belief in atheist superiority. I'm an agnostic, and have no problems with people having beliefs that are different from me, but the latter point is where I seem to differ a great deal from other people. I'd seen it in Rolla, in KC, and among the bear community: anyone with a belief in some form of God was looked down upon as not being a real gay person and not caring about the LGBT struggle. Theists were often viewed as foolish for believing what they could not prove, and they could find no acceptance in the LGBT community. I should know, because at one point I held this belief. One day, though, someone (I can't remember who) brought up a very good point: atheism is a religion in itself and acts like one. The fact that I seemed to be one of the only people who saw this alienated me from the atheist community and from one of the last fronts of the LGBT community I could participate in. That was when I stopped LGBT activism all together and packed my bear shirts away.
I won't try to label myself when it comes to my beliefs. I'm not liberal. I'm not conservative. I'm not easily categorized into a binary system. Because of this, I can no longer effectively participate in activism. Neither can anyone else who is the least bit reasonable. The only thing we can do is vote. But I fear that with hoards of people screaming for radicalism, the whisper of reason will be drowned out.
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