“White man in a suit and fancy shoes drops a $20 on the subway platform. I made a decision, but what would you do? Give back to him? Or to the homeless vet by the stairs?”
Last night three millionaires crafted a bit of racial theater for the masses. It went over exactly as planned.
Equality can feel oppressive to the formerly privileged.
I am lucky. I am privileged.
This line of thinking is completely backwards.
To pity Africans, and to essentialize and constrict our stories, is to believe that we are inferior.
One sentence, three words, changed the course of my life. I left my job in search of something else, something authentic. I made a promise to “find something authentic.”
I couldn’t seem to grasp the concept of how privileged I was.
Sometimes, when I’m walking down the street, the blessing of where I get to do life really strikes me. I’m struggling right now — but I get to struggle here.
When are we going to treat everyone equally in our own damn country?