what if the worlds/were a series of steps/what if the steps/joined back at the margin

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Is the United States Drug Policy High on Cocaine?

TV Junkie (2006) is one of the most disturbing documentaries I have ever seen in my entire life. As I have watched A Film Unfinished which features among other otherworldly documentations of human suffering, starved dead bodies being thrown into a pit, so when TV Junkie left me clutching my throat and gasping, I was surprised to saw the least. The cliche “watching a train wreck” was completely applicable. But the back story of why this documentary is more significant than Rick is what is so tragically and ironically incredible.

According to Rick, he interviewed George HW Bush about the dangers of crack cocaine and drug addiction while high on crack cocaine. This means that the white people who were importing the raw cocaine that was then distributed throughout the country, the white people who held corporate jobs and got off on being “adrenaline junkies” while outsourcing the real dangerous illegal black-market narcotics jobs to African-American inner city men (Rick attests several times to going to “the hood” to buy crack cocaine) were creating propaganda about the evils of cocaine while both personally benefiting and destroying themselves. George HW Bush is an evil man. He is a man who saw a way to manipulate a black market for his political benefit at the calculated expense of untold millions of lives and then denied justice, liberty, and freedom, and safety to humanity. Rick is not an evil man, he is human, fell victim to becoming a monstrous Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde where the overwhelming chemical dependency of cocaine distorted his character and integrity. While interviewing the very man who controlled The United States of America, who secretly was importing cocaine, this man interviewing him, who was secretly using crack cocaine, were creating a distorted reality that has had unending consequences for billions of people. The hypocrisy of Rick’s actions is ironic, disgusting, and all too human when a person has a drug addiction. The interview makes us watch these two be Master and puppet, president and press, importer and user, truth and escape.

Some people can use drugs such as cocaine in a recreational manner. Some cannot. Rick drank and used cocaine, which caused volatility in his personal life. He hit his wife in front of his child and scarred his pre-verbal baby so that at his first birthday party he cried when everyone yelled “yay” because he had seen his parents fight and yell right before his father was taken away by police for domestically abusing his mother. But Rick engaged in a cycle of hypocrisy, dominating others at the expense of both them and yourself, like using crack cocaine while interviewing the president about the evils of this drug. I cannot help but see his identity as a straight white man being the pinnacle of why this disaster was allowed to go on for so long. He was portrayed in his media career as an “adrenaline junkie” and that made him a fun, edgy guy! This was also during the ’80s and ’90s, when it seemed like white male news anchors were somehow viewed as somewhat infallible people. But there was such darkness, and because of his position of power people were willing to overlook his abuse of crack cocaine because he was so talented within his industry. For the black kids in the New York City projects who he bought the crack from, no one ever argued for their futures because of any talent they may have had. No one in the media gave merit any alternative narrative George HW Bush and American politicians of both parties were asserting that prohibiting narcotic substances and causing them to become black market products is a better policy than regulation, and certainly not good ol’ Rick. Why would he rock the boat?

“its almost euphoric, hard to speak because of the rush type high. it becomes a very sexual in a way, not in a good way in any means, very raw, very animalistic, very lustful, a very primeval sort of way. at least in my experience with this rotten drug how can something so euphoric and good be so terrible?” Rick is not a sympathetic character. And his insistence of documenting his ever spiraling out of control reality, including abusing his wife and smoking crack cocaine a whole bunch of times, his complete divorce from reality is even more exacerbated than the average crack head. He is completely obsessed with documenting his life. And with all these documents of reality, he cannot see that the source of his addiction lies somewhere in his constant desire for adrenaline. He cannot sit with his sons in day to day life, he gets clearly depressed while sitting around in what looks like suburban bliss. He takes his anger and frustration out on his family in extremely scary ways. Apparently, he has press credentials for the Dallas police despite the police being regularly summoned to his dwelling for domestic disputes. The Dallas police most likely knew of his drug abuse, yet he continued to have press credentials.

The documentary is bizarre to say the least. Between his obsession with crack cocaine, complete inability to cope with real life, obsession with documenting his every waking moment, the moments of dark honesty of what drug abuse does to a family, and how privilege works in a way that does no benefit to those who hold the privilege and those who suffer as the result of not having the privilege (in this case, I believe Rick’s privilege as an educated talented charismatic white male helped in the cause of his ultimate downfall because so many people were willing to overlook his horrific behavior due to the standard of how white men are treated in this society) the film is a mindfuck.

People with serious addiction issues such as Rick’s must be dealt with in a medically appropriate manner where both physical and mental health are rebuilt. Rick constantly talks about the shame of drug use. The abuse against his family is horrifying and unfortunately, completely normal for them. Rick is able to get around law enforcement consequences because of his status within the community. Treatment for drug abuse is piss poor in America. Crack cocaine has been described to me as a “full body orgasm” which explains why people who do it sit for hours constantly smoking. Watching Rick struggle with this addiction is as brutal a reality as a documentary can portray accurately.

This documentary would later be used as a “Don’t Do Drugs, Kids” message. The documentary ends extremely awkwardly, with Rick speaking to a group of random graduating high school seniors that he used to do drugs but he doesn’t now and isn’t that great don’t do it kids look at my children here they are. His two sons, around ages 9 and 13 it looks, awkwardly come out on to the stage, let their father embrace them, and then run back off stage. Tammy, Rick’s wife, is also present. It is as painful and bizarre as the rest of the documentary.I felt like they missed an opportunity here. Just like everything else in his life, Rick uncritically excepts the status quo narrative that has been presented to him, and misses his opportunity to create any positive change and effect.

Tammy eventually divorced Rick, and with the use of Google I haven’t been able to figure out what Rick is up to if anything at all. There is an incredible number of documentaries about drugs, because fascination with altering states of consciousness is a normal part of being human. Unfortunately, this is recognized now globally in a very limited way. As a direct result of the United Nation and United States of America, narcotic substances are a billion dollar underground economy, the likes of which are never taxed, the reality of which never goes away, and the destruction of lives like Rick and his family and all the dealer’s who dealt to Rick is monumental.

The argument that global prohibition of narcotic substances is a working policy is a destructive delusion. TV Junkie shows this completely accidentally, in one stroke of the irony that sometimes the universe swirls upon the unsuspecting people of the world.

I wonder what happened to Rick’s little boys, one of whom screams “why did you hit my momma?!” during one of Rick’s tirades. But most people know what happens to young black boys who end up in the narcotics trade: dead, jail, or reformed, and people in power are more inclined to engineer the first two instead of the third.

Cocaine makes you feel euphoric, aggressive, egomanical, and a little delusional. A lot of cocaine makes you all those things and the worse version of yourself you’ve ever known. I think the United States’ global policy on narcotics is clearly high on blow.

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The Sight Is Dismal

I’m a white lady who historically has been passionate about coming to a non-white solipsist movement toward giving racial identity the respectful integrity it deserves. People are diverse, and diversity is part of what makes the Earth beautiful. Whiteness dominance degrades the diversity of humanity.

For some white people, it is difficult to understand why I would be willing to give up privileges of whiteness, an objective I honestly do not always know how to preform.

But the sight is dismal. The systematic use of murder against black people in this country is well documented. For example the government of the United States of America murdered Fred Hampton in his bed. Eric Garner was murdered by the New York Police Department, forty odd years later. These people both, in varying capacities, asserted that they had civil rights and the right to not be harassed by the police force. They were both murdered in cold blood

I don’t know what to do about the blood in the street.

I can breathe, unlike Eric Garner. I can confront white men about their racism without fear of getting violently assaulted, although that is always a possibility of male rage when living female. I know that there are other people who want to end this, who are also white, but I do not know what massive action we can take. I feel so helpless, sitting at my computer typing this feels silly, because it feels so small and unimportant. But I can’t shut up, because I get to breathe, and all these people who have darker skin than I do can’t breath because there is something seriously sick with the authority in this country.

What I do know is this: silence on this issue is violence against every black person in this country who has died at the hands of psychopathic white genocidal violence. Silence is violence when there is blood in the street. 

What do we do with this information?

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Murder is An American Value

If a person is declared murdered by a medical examiner, then they have been murdered.

Eric Garner was declared murdered by a New York medical examiner.

The people who are videotaped murdering Eric Garner, a video that is accessible on the internet, have not been indicted by a Staten Island grand jury. These people happen to be police officers.

If a person is declared murdered in the state of New York and that person is black,and that murderer is a white police officer, then there is a likely chance that the murderers will not be indicted.

This is what this decision means. We are not in Mississippi in the 1800s where black men’s mutilated bodies sway from trees, and for all intents and purposes, those murders were legal. The United States of America has a long standing history of instituting legal murder against black men and women through the use of people granted the manifestation of it’s monopoly on state power.

This is the definition of genocide.

Genocide against black people in Mississippi was a domestic terrorist experience for black men, women, children, and families. Genocide against black people in New York now is the same domestic terrorist experience, with absolute submission required in order to walk away with one’s life. And as Eric Garner shows, who was not in any way shape or form acting threatening to officers, even being completely non-violent can still result in your murder.

Murderers are walking free, with liberty, able to pursuit their happiness, in New York City. In New York, my home state, we wonder how one of the most policed states in America (stop and frisk, NYPD being a standing army, the absolute submission we give to police, the total and complete disregard of black men and women as human beings with civil rights) has actually let several people walk free after they murdered, on camera, a human being.

This is not my country. This is not my country. If this is what it is like to live in America I will do everything I can to make sure your horrific version of reality fails.

Bernadine Dohrn, the mother of the Weathermen Underground, once stated, “We live in the most violent society history has ever created. I am not committed to non-violence in any way.”

I cannot, in good standing as a person of morals and ethics, call for the people of the United States to not resist in every way we can possibly to this genocide being perpetrated against our fellow citizens. We do not have to act violently, but we cannot continue to allow the genocide of people of color by the police force to continue. I cannot state any endorsement of violence on this public forum because it could be used against me in theory, because I have also lost my right to freedom of speech within the cyber sphere due to militant surveillance by the American spy apparatus.

Perhaps no one will ever read this. Perhaps no will will ever care about my words or ideas, or my absolute fear that we are about to tear our society apart and participate in our own destruction because we are too afraid to let love and tolerance prevail.

But what I know, is murder is an American value, and I will not be a part of it.

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His Name Was Michael Brown

He was a man and he was our brother. He was not perfect. He liked to smoke marijuana, he may have committed a crime that day, he may have not always been perfect. That is why he is one of us. None of us are perfect.

I have smoked marijuana, and I may or may not have committed crimes. With all the legislation that binds us in this police state of America, it is doubtful to find very many American adults who have not committed crime in one capacity or another. It is certainly none of your business, as I am innocent of all crime I may or may not have committed until the state can provide a solid case against me to commit me to jail or prison, and it most definitely is not a reason for me to be shot. The difference between me and Michael is that I am white and assumed to not be dangerous.

Michael Brown may or may not have argued with a police officer, and may or may not have acted in the less than perfect manner. But I have acted out around police, and I have not only lived to tell the tale but was helped by the police officers I was difficult toward. I am not the only white person who has been helped by police whereas my black peer counterparts are afraid of the sight of a police vehicle. I am not a perfect human being. Michael Brown was not a perfect human being. Neither of us deserve death over our mistakes.

The only perfect people are Darren Wilson. The only perfect people are Robert McCulloch. The only perfect people are the people who say that this is not about race. The only perfect people are those who believe that it is reasonable for Wilson to have feared for his life due to a demon wearing a black man as a suit.

His name was Michael Brown and he was a human fucking being.


Consciousness of Segregation

The other morning I was watching Morning Joe sipping my coffee, and he featured a segment discussing which state is the most segregated in modern day America. What do you think it would be, somewhere in the South? Somewhere in the Mid-West?

Wait for it….
It’s New York. My home state, the place I love, where I come from and the place that made me me. I’m from upstate New York, a place of freezing winters (but gorgeous springs, summers, and falls), small towns, rolling hills, and delicious craft beers.  New York City, the worlds greatest city, is a wonderful place to visit and I always have a great time whenever I’m there (Second on Second gay bars in Manhattan, Brooklyn all day holla, even Staten Island shanenigans). I really do love New York. While the culture of New York is rich, but apparently, also, one of unprecedented racial segregation.

I know that downstate New York is a place unlike any other, specifically Long Island, New York. For those of you unfamiliar with the geology of New York, Long Island is basically the conglomerate of rock matter formed from the glaciers that cut through upstate New York to that created my beloved rolling hills. It is basically what happened as the result of the glaciers taking a dump, something us upstaters like to point out to often times self-righteous Long Islanders who think that upstate New York is one great bumblefuck. New York City is very racially segregated, but Long Island is the section of the state that is primarily responsible for the massive segregation. Indeed, it is the pattern in Long Island that one town is white, the other non-white, one town is white, the next town is non-white. The non-whites often work in the white towns, and the people in the white towns usually work in the city.

This pattern of racial segregation has allowed low-income socioeconomic status of non-whites to continue and has created a racial barrier to equal education due to the way the tax-code funds schools. If you even think of trying to have a conversation with a white Long-Islander about redistribution of the tax-code with regards to schools, you will get a long-winded denial to the legitimacy of this idea (I know this from attempting to have the conversation with several Long Island white people during my college years). The idea simply does not hold clout amongst the most segregated part of America.

There is a lot of talk about how “races” “naturally” “want” to live amongst each other. Personally, some of my most favorite moments have been with groups of people where racial diversity was the operating factor within the context of the social interaction. While it is true that it is “easier” to identify people with similar thoughts and beliefs, this does not have to boil down to race. Social phenomenon such as youth culture, sub-cultures, or alternative ways of living can bring people together regardless of previous ways up upbringing. I know this personally from experience, having lived a fringe and alternative lifestyle for many years. My experience was multi-racial and my ability to relate to others transcended my whiteness because I was aware of my privilege, and as a result of willingness to give it up, I was able to take and heed criticism that I believe other white people would not be able to tolerate. A lot of white people accuse people of color of not wanting to interact with us, but my rebuttal to that is that in the majority of white people, there is a willful ignorance while paradoxical embrace of the social workings of white privilege. And who would want to hang out with people who are actively committed to denying your equality while denying that that is their intention? It has been my experience that beecause I am willing to give these social workings up, people of color have remarked to me that it is easier to interact with me than most people of my race. I take this as a huge compliment.

It is a conscious, calculated move to structure a society where inter-racial interactions are limited and depersonalized. Downstate New York has mastered this consciousness, to the detriment of embracing an outlook on life where interactions with others who are not completely like ones self are valued.

While writing this post, I’ve been listening to Reem’s newly dropped ill track titled “Chicago Conscious (Remix” featuring Lil Herb, King Louie, and Spenzo. Like most drill rap, the beat is haunting and invigorating.

The rappers talk about a uniquely Black experience in this country, that of having no other options but to conform to a gangsta lifestyle in order to put food on the table. Reem raps “comin’ from where I’m comin’ from/you’d probably loose it”, “to my niggas is my brothers/and I treat ’em like my brothers/to my brothers is my niggas/so I treat ’em like my brothers”, Lil’ Herb raps “dropped out of school cuz I knew I wouldn’t be shit” and “my niggas either in the streets sellin’ drugs/or they sleepin'”, King Louis raps “don’t talk to the police/no talk” and “touch me you die/no worries/lyin’ niggas no stories”, and finally Spenzo raps “nigga I’ve been self-made since twelfth grade”. These men talk about reliance on your squad, your niggas, your brothers, while remarking “lookin’ in the mirror only nigga that can relate”. The juxtaposition of having close friends, “my niggas”, while remarking the omnipresent feeling of isolation is stark and disarming to the listener. If this song does not illustrate the effects of a social situation engineered and executed to cause isolation of a racial group, I do not know what song possibly could. These rappers come from Chiraq which I have wrote about a few times, a Black neighborhood of Chicago completely segregated as a stronghold for intra-racial violence, murder and mayhem.

The rappers also make it a point to show that they dropped out of school, or simply disregarded it, for lack of personal benefit. This is also a phenemeon shown in New York where only 58% of Black and Latino students graduate from high school in the New York City area. If you click the link, the article is a New York Post piece titled “An Unconscionable Silence”. I very much would like to dispute this. This is a very deliberate and calculated effort on the part of White America, to be silent about the interworking’s to deny equality of opportunity, achievement, and advancement to non-whites.

While towns on Long Island do not have the violence problem that Chiraq has, but there are markedly more economic opportunities for everyone in that area. This does not stop the downstate drug trade, of which has historically ripped Black sections of Brooklyn with gun violence and gang vendettas.

The typical white experience simply does not include the knowledge of illegal activities as a normal way of life to make money. Most white people I know who have gotten into the drug trade have done so out of desire for excitement, though obviously lower income whites do participate in illegal activity for economic gain. However, social phenomenon such as racialized segregation cause these racial disparities in what is considered normative life to continue for lack of active social acceptance of the underpinnings and causes of the criminalization of being Black. It can more than definitely be read that historically and in modern times it is a crime to be Black, and white structures have done and continue to ensure this is a lived truth.

I unfortunately do not see New York changing any time soon. With denial of white privilege and its interworking’s, it will probably only get stronger. In New York, you go hard. I encourage my fellow whites to go hard in the other direction, to embracing racial diversity, and looking at their experience of privilege to the detriment of their fellow New York citizens.

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Can White People Rap?

My father is an avid blues and jazz fan, and growing up these were the musical genres most heard in the house. Famously, there is an essentialist question within blues, that being,

“Can White people sing the blues?”

For those crying “racism!” or “reverse racism!”, please relax. In previous posts I discussed why I as a White person see it necessary for my people to participate in the destruction of a system of privilege that wholesale benefits us (a later post I am planning will hopefully demonstrate the mechanics of superficial white privilege benefit for Whites while actually causing large scale harm to the entire society). I am not trying to attack White identity in this post, but pose a question about how our identity works.

The essential nature of the blues is human despair translated into haunting music, beautiful sounds evoking the ultimate sadness the conditions of human misery can cause. Listening to the blues is a wonderful experience because of the richness of the music but also an ongoing understanding of how people can create in the face of adversity and despair. The blues is based on the causes and conditions of Black Southern life; poverty, hatred, barriers to advancement, general terror and the threat of rape/murder. Black Southerners faced constant degradation, and in many instances had to participate in their own degradation in order to economically survive, which is reflected in Blues. While there were certainly poor Whites who endured conditions of poverty and misery, it should be noted that the experience was not the same. Without this extra layer of despair, White Blues performers have often been noted to lack a certain intrinsic musical quality that is found in all Black music performers.  

There is some debate as to the origin of rap/hip hop music. Some assert that rap music started in the Bronx during the 1970s as a direct result of Black political power. However, the Watts Prophets are widely credited with being the first hip hop group, formed out of the disarray of the Watts Riots, a race riot that took place in Los Angeles in 1965. In any event, this music is directly tied to Black political power and has roots in its story-telling quality of Black life and philosophy standing in contrast to ruling White privilege and power. Like the Blues, classic hip/hop and much of later hip hop takes the subject matter of what Black life consisted of. As I argued in Chiraq, that tradition still continues though it is often misunderstood because the lyrics may not be understood as political, intellectual, or significant.

Two of the most significant rap/hip hop figures in history, Tupac and the Wu Tang Clan, are collectively the most significant lyricists in the history of hip hop. Tupac was born to a Black Panther who months before his birth faced a three-hundred federal prison sentence. The Wu Tang Clan are a group of Staten Islander gangstas (and Brooklyn, holla Ol Dirty Bastard) who could be described as enlightened warriors.

From the Wu, “I bomb atomically, Socrates’ philosophies/and hypothesis can’t define how I be droppin these/
mockeries, lyrically perform armed robbery/Flee with the lottery, possibly they spotted me/Battle-scarred shogun, explosion when my pen hits/tremendous, ultra-violet shine blind forensics” a song called “Triumph”. If you don’t think that is pure poetry, you have clearly never been very literate.

From Tupac, “This time the truth’s gettin told, heard enough lies/I told em fight back, attack on society/If this is violence, then violent’s what I gotta be/If you investigate you’ll find out where it’s comin from/Look through our history, America’s the violent one/Unlock my brain, break the chains of your misery/This time the payback for evil shit you did to me/They call me militant, racist cause I will resist/You wanna censor somethin, motherfucker censor this!/My words are weapons, and I’m steppin to the silent/Wakin up the masses, but you, claim that I’m violent” a song called “Violent”.

Both the Wu Tang and Tupac can be viewed as warriors. Both are regarded in the classic gangsta rap genre, but they are more than “gangstas”. They are poets who reflect the situation Black people have faced in the reality of the complete destruction of Black political power that was engineered by COINTELPRO, a government counter-intelligence program that is worth researching to understand the politick of White supremacy within American policies. Without legitimate power, lack of economic opportunities, and an unequal education system, rap music took the place to tell the dire story.

As a footnote, I exempt Eminem from this question about “Can White People Rap”? Eminem cut his teeth in Detroit and is a skilled lyricist and recognized as a legitimate rap talent within the hip-hop community. While lacking the experience of Blackness, he was raised in poverty, crime, and by his own acknowledgment participated in illegal activity in order to survive. I believe that like myself, Eminem calls bullshit on the White privilege system, “surely hip-hop was never a problem in Harlem, only in Boston,/After it bothered the fathers of daughters starting to blossom” from the song “White America”.

The White rappers I’m talking about are people like Macklemore and Iggy Azalea. They both make me want to vomit. Macklemore, for his righteous co-op of the problems of marginalized peoples and Iggy because she is ear-meltingly without talent, admonishing how she is a “bad bitch” while coming nowhere close to the likes of Lil’ Kim (the queen bitch, the supreme bitch, and the mistress of Notorious BIG and a skilled lyricist herself) or her contemporary Rihanna, who really is only considered a “bad bitch” for loving blunts. Iggy just seems to like to show off her beauty, and uses Black people as props in her videos. So edgy.

Kendrick Lamar and Azalea Banks, both of whom are Black, could be considered their counterparts. I am not going to link to Iggy or Macklemore, but here is Kendrick and Azalea

Kendrick Lamar lost to Macklemore at this past years Grammy’s. As Ol’ Dirty Bastard had historically pointed out (Wu Tang is for the Children!) the Grammy’s know shit about hip/hop when they chose Puff Duddy (sorry, Daddy) over Wu Tang. It was insulting and irritating in both instances. Iggy Azalea and Azalea Banks are compared mostly for sharing a name, but also because they came out at roughly the same time. Azalea Banks has had trouble releasing another album because, in her words, old white men don’t understand her music, a statement that may have a fair amount of merit to it. Banks historically has been through much hardship, spending some of her young adulthood as a stripper, and Lamar is from Compton and grew up in relative poverty. On the contrary, the White artists do not appear to have grown up under much hardship. It appears the greatest hardship Iggy endured was being rejected as a model for having a fat ass. Macklemore seems to have grown up in complete and total privilege.

Azalea Banks and Kendrick Lamar are not Wu Tang Clan or Tupac. Their music is without much political influence and they are not as lyrically talented. But such is that current state of hip hop. It appears that the glory days of early ’90s hip hop have been gutted commercially which started to take place in the late ’90s. There is still talent here; for example I am a big fan of ASAP Rocky, an artist who almost comes close to the glory days because he is funky and his lyrics are well crafted, but again he is no Tupac.

I titled this post “Can White People Rap” to be provocative. I’m sure many will find it offensive. I find it a little offensive myself, honestly, that I am positing that there is something intrinsic about a person’s race that enables them to do certain things better than other people of a different race. However, I’d like to get a little bit beyond that and conclude with the question of, what part of experience of identity of race causes a genre like hip-hop to be dominated by people with a common identity experience? What causes the dominant people within the racial dynamic to lack oomph within this genre? Is it because of hip-hop’s starting point was out of the Black political movements of the 1960s and 1970s and hopeful empowerment of Black people, that then turned into poetic witnessing of Black life, and then was commercialized by White record label owners? I do not know the answer to these questions, but I do know that Macklemore should not have won that Grammy, and that if ASAP Rocky wanted to ride with a fine bad white bitch, he should’ve called me and not Iggy Azalea.

Wu Tang Forever!

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None of Your Business

In my previous post Imma Let You Finish I examined racial politics from the prime opportunity Don Sterling presented with his recent idiotic remarks. Originally I talked a lot about violence in this blog, not just physical violence but the metaphysics of violence and the intrinsic nature of a violent act albeit physical dominance. In this post, I’d like to use Don Sterling’s idiocy for something positive; an examination of the dominance politics when it comes to White women.

As I have stated in past posts, I am a white lady. This has not stopped me from dating Black men and a few Hispanic men. I have also dated women. I define as queer, not bisexual, but that is a topic for another post (you can read about it here).

Historically, law has been used by White patriarchy to ensure the “purity” of white women and prevention of miscegenation. White women were to be protected from Black men, for fears of retribution via rape and miscegenation that could threaten white power. All the while, White men as powerful as Thomas Jefferson have been raping and/or participating in miscegenation with Black women.

One of the ways to dehumanize a group of people is to compare them to animals. The Nazis compared Jews to rats as a way to discredit their legitimacy within state power. Here in America, Black people have been mocked as primates and debased into having sexuality that is “animalistic”. Since Black women were not fully viewed by the dominant White patriarchy as humans, their rapes were far less important and offensive than the rapes of White women. Conversely, White women were limited as to the extent they were able to express their sexuality without being admonished as a “whore”, ideally opting to be seen as “virginal”. Virgin/whore dichotomy, feminism 101, I know I’m boring you.

In Christie and Me I made a reference to why “My rejection of these codes of conduct [codes of Whiteness] run further than what I am willing to examine in this post, but surely I will explore them further at some point in the future.” The future is now (what a corny thing to say, unfortunately it is an apt phrase). I wholesale reject the codes of Whiteness on the conviction that no one, but me, owns my pussy. I own my pussy. Whiteness wants to own who I allow in there, under what circumstances, and who I show it off to. Whiteness wants to tell me to engage in heterosexual intercourse with a White man so that we can keep the “White race” racially “pure”. It is contingent on my pureness, not the White males, that Whiteness is furthered and perpetrated.

Don Sterling did not want his girlfriend to associate with Black men because he felt he should own her. It is important to note that she is not White, but Latina, and thus it is a little strange why Don Sterling, a White man with White man dominance politics manifesting within his identity, would not see a problem for himself with dating outside his race. But that’s what it is. It is about him. It is all about him because he must have absolute dominance over everyone around him, something he feels entitled to as a White man. History back him up. White men have historically had an odd tendency to legislate (anti-sodomy laws, anti-miscegenation laws) and control sexuality. Why is that? I believe it is because they know love is more powerful than hate. If some people get together and love each other, make some multi-colored babies, then their entire power structure will fall. Interracial love is one of the most threatening things to the white power structure especially when white women are in charge of their kitties.

White guys, I don’t want you to get upset. I got love for a lot of y’all. There are a lot of good ones of you out there. But the worst ones, the Don Sterlings of you, make it really difficult. So if you read my post, please don’t take this as an identity attack, but maybe just something to think of about how it relates to your experience of the world. How does who you are influence you experience of the world and your interactions with other people?

Indeed, I cannot ignore something else that is important relating to the politics of inter-racial dating. A few of the Black men I have been with have seen my Whiteness as a status symbol (not all). It was something for them to be proud of, an achievement of sorts. This was an interesting experience because it was an intersectionality of sorts that I do not often experience. It was as if they were able to say to White patriarchy, oh hey, I gotcha, I got one of yours and she likes it. I did not know how to react to that, and we cannot analyze everything that happens to us in the moment and act ideally. I’m not even sure I cared that they felt this way. Sure, I was being made into an object, but that is half the experience of being a woman.

When I got called a “nigger lover” by a passing car full of White men I didn’t even know because I was holding hands with a Black man, I was proud. I was proud that threats of hate were not strong enough to deter me as a White woman and all the White privilege I am entitled to to stop me from determining who I want to show my pussy to. No man can tell me what to do, except for my father but that is only because I respect him and am grateful to him for giving me life. But not even he could (or would, because my dads a cool white guy) tell me who to show my kitty to.

In conclusion, Salt’N’Peppa have summed it up nicely for me