Drunk Ramblings about BLM

One thing I really like about this movement is that the victims matter. The victims are treated as martyrs. Did they want to be martyred? No. They wanted to live a full life. Almost everyone does. And that’s the thing, these victims, Trayvon Martin, Eric Garner, and Michael Brown among so many others, they were us. That’s the thing, these are people we know, they are who we are. We can relate. It’s deeper than just skin tone, it’s something that should speak to all of us. I mean, even if you were white and lost your child, you could semi-relate to the victims’ parents. I know it seems like a lot to ask people who aren’t of the same skin tone to sympathize with a plight that has been going on for centuries, but we can all relate on a human level.
In almost every culture, there has been a stigma of having a darker skin tone. In Asia, in South and Central America, in Africa and even in Europe people with darker skin tones are thought of as inferior. In the past, the reasoning behind that has been that those with darker skin have been farmers or laborers, a category designated to the lower class. While those with fairer skin are typically considered to be a part of the upper class, for they didn’t have to be out in the sun for long hours slaving away. These people were plumper and had cushier lifestyles that didn’t revolve around working outdoors.
Carl Jung had this psychological theory called the collective unconscious. According to this theory, humans pass down archetypes through generations, without ever explicitly stating them. These thoughts are transmitted unconsciously, from parent to child. Archetypes can easily be replaced by stereotypes. These are unconscious tendencies to relegate certain people to certain stereotypes. All of it having a basis in how our ancestors thought. I don’t know if I believe in this theory. But it would help to explain why racism seems to come by so easily in the human race. Though, honestly, I’m not even sure if it would be racism. Even in Europe, pretty much everyone was of the same race, white, but those who had darker skin had it because of their work outside. It was a defense mechanism against the harsh UV rays of the sun, but others, the richer and fairer, saw it as a sign that these people had to work hard in the sun because they were poor. I don’t know if I believe in the collective unconscious, but it would explain why so much racism occurs nowadays.
Of course, that is no fucking excuse. We are all human. All of us, of the same fucking species. We deal with different things, we have different capabilities, different disabilities, but none of that is dependent on skin color. Skin color is nothing more than our defense against the goddamn sun.
And the BML movement? I am 100 percent with it. I am mixed, and actually look very white. Technically, I am 3/8s black, 1/8 Japanese, and half white. This movement, while I support it and defend it, I know I still have that privilege. That white privilege.
When I was in eighth grade in GA, a little white boy asked me out. I said no. He looked me dead in the eyes. He told me that that was okay, but to promise him I’d never date a black boy.
Before then I had never heard such racism. I was stunned. I told him my dad was black, he didn’t believe me. I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself. I wanted to sock him in the face. I didn’t. I calmly showed him a picture of my dad, and he moved seats, rarely if ever speaking to me again.
Racism exists, I’ve never been a true victim of it based off my skin color, but I have that little white card where people think it’s appropriate to spew their ignorant opinions at me. And I am mixed, so it’s almost like I’m a minority in a minority. What’s that song? Unaccepted by the whites and rejected by the blacks. Yeah, that could have been me. But I fell in with the weirdos who honestly don’t give a flying fuck about skin color.
I am with BML a hundred percent. And anyone who isn’t? Well, they just need a history lesson. Or a present lesson. Open your fucking eyes. I have a very special glimpse because of my ethnicities. But it’s not hard to see the injustices.
Anyway, sorry went off on a tangent that turned into a life story, but I like BML so much cause its about the victims. I can almost draw a some what weird parallel with serial killers. So in the case of serial killers, we know the killer, by either their name or nickname. But the victims? How many of you can name the victims of say, the Zodiac Killer or Jeffrey Dahmer? Unless of course your a serial killer buff. But most people don’t know the victims. I sure as hell can’t name one. And if you think about it, we can relegate cops to that title. What are they doing? Pretty much serial killing African Americans (I use African Americans because I’m talking about what’s going on in America). Sure it isn’t just one person, it’s a whole occupation. Not to say there aren’t good cops. I’ve met good cops. One gave me a reason not to end my life. Anyways, so we pretty much have an entire profession serial killing African Americans. But the difference here is we know the victims’ names. And not just their names. We know their faces. Their families. They will not be forgotten. And that’s a powerful thing.

-Drunk Ramblings of a Stoner

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