Paul Rojas,
Tulsa, OK.
I’m going to come out and say it…the same thing thousands, probably millions of people in this country are feeling, at this point.
I don’t care about black people’s problems anymore.
Don’t get me wrong, I care very much for the black people I known personally. I care about them as people, as much as whites, Asians, Latinos, and every other human being on earth.
But I no longer care about the special set of issues that many black people hold so near and dear, and that seem to define them as a group…though thankfully, not as individuals.
I’m simply worn out with them. Exhausted by their constant demands, their neediness, their helplessness, their hypocrisy, their never ending problems, their inability to take advantage of the myriad opportunities practically delivered to them, their ungratefulness, their refusal to take responsibility for their own lives or accept the consequences of their actions.
I’ve just thrown in the towel. I can’t keep caring about problems that I obviously can’t do anything about. Especially when they have brought at least some of it on themselves, or when they won’t make the lifestyle changes necessary to succeed or to overcome or avoid their problems.
There comes a point, where I just quit listening. When racist graffiti is discovered on a college campus, or on a black person’s house, my reaction is no longer outrage, disgust, and sympathy for a victim of a hate crime. It’s outrage and disgust alright, and it comes a few days later when it is almost always revealed to be yet another racial hoax perpetrated by black people. I really don’t want to hear them tearfully recounting that heartrending moment when they “discovered” some mean white KKK member had snuck into their laundry room, completely unseen and invisible to video cameras, to scribble “Trump ’16” and “Die niggers” on the wall. At this point, I’ll turn the channel.
I applaud those who are successful, and overcome challenges, and I wish them well. But just like my white colleagues, if they make poor decisions, spend their money foolishly, refuse the free education available to them, have children they can’t afford, get involved in drugs and criminality, I have little sympathy. And I’m not likely to make an effort to be friendly with them or get to know them. I’ll be polite, but I don’t particularly care to associate with them, white or black.
I no longer excuse or rationalize violence, criminality, laziness, indolence, careless babymaking, willful dependency or degeneracy among blacks, any more than I do with whites. If you’re a thief who doesn’t support his child, and spends his days drinking and whining about how his life sucks, your black skin doesn’t get you a pass from me. You’re just as much of a piece of garbage as your fellow white bum. Doesn’t equality feel good?
Perhaps it’s the hyper-sensitivity, the arrogant and unabashed racism toward other races, and the self-entitlement. Could be the willingness to drop everything to riot, loot, burn and destroy personal and public property, menace, threaten and physically attack innocent white people. Or the propensity towards cowardly mob attacks on vulnerable whites, especially the elderly, women, any white person they catch alone and defenseless.
70 years ago or more, white men did beat up or occasionally murder blacks they suspected of wrongdoing…just as they did to other whites who “needed killin'”. Vigilante “justice” was an injustice, nobody argues the point. It was wrong, and the civil rights era exposed these as shameful and reprehensible acts. Black and whites marched together and lobbied their political leaders to put a stop to racial injustice, to shame those guilty of racism, and to codify and enforce equal rights for all. A noble and righteous cause, one which was long overdue.
But here it is 50 years later, the president, attorney general, and a disproportionate percentage of the top government executives are black. The mayors, commissioners, police chiefs, and other local adminstrators in most, if not all, major cities are also black. Black Run America has not brought prosperity to its constituents, rather, its Democratic policies, programs and spending have driven once majestic and prosperous cities into bankruptcy, decay and abandonment.
I just can’t bring myself to feel for the people who scrawl vulgar graffiti on the sides of stately brownstones, or who break the subtly rippled glass that a craftsman, white or black, had carefully glazed in an ornate linteled window a hundred thirty years ago. There’s no part of me that yearns to reach out to people throwing garbage onto what had been a tidy, manicured patch of decorative greenery flanking a grand marble entrance with exquisitely carved doors. I just don’t have it in me, anymore. I do wonder what has become of the respectable, genteel families who were displaced by the social engineering policies of the New Deal, leaving their architectural legacy to the ravages of neglect and deliberate defacement.
I’ve left the “dialogue”, which turned out to be nothing more than a one-sided, accusatory tirade, berating me for unspecified harm I am to bear responsibility for, and denying me the right to respond with my own, civil point of view. There’s simply no point having “the conversation” any longer. You smugly assert that I have no right to my views because I can’t possibly know what it’s like to be black. Yet you claim in the same breath, to be the arbiter, the expert on my own race, and therefore I have no right to speak for myself. So, have your own “dialogue” with yourself. I’m out.
No matter what I do, no matter what I say, you say my whiteness makes me racist. So there is no longer any point in considering it. Fine, you say I’m “racist”. I don’t care anymore.
I’m sure there are those who will say in rebuttal that they are “tired of” being the victims of racism every walking minute of their lives. And to this, I say…”Ok, I am willing to accept that you are being victimized by the inherent racism absorbed by simply being in proximity to white people. But you must accept that my response will be to avoid you, and to decline to involve myself in your issues, lest my whiteness somehow damage you further.”
