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My Thoughts and My Opinions
BLOG POST FROM AN OCCASIONAL BLOGGER
“I’m not here to appease, comfort, coddle or pacify your white fragility, your so-called white supremacy nor your so-called whiteness or your so-called white privilege.” Excerpt from the book Parasitic by Michael J. Williams
Why I Write
There are many reasons why a person decides to write. The many reasons why vary for each individual person. Whether a person writes because they enjoy telling vivid stories about different people and cultures or they enjoy educating people after vigorous research about specific topics, people, and cultures that need to be told. Others may write so that they can create a world that takes them and their readers to a different place, time, and world, away from the stresses of everyday life and turmoil that they and their readers may experience. There are those who write to inform the masses about politics, music, art, science, and healthy living. Writing could be a hobby or the opportunity to earn an income and actually make a living by being a professional writer, it may even be a necessity for some as writing helps them deal with difficult issues that they may be facing alone or at least feel like they are facing alone. To each individual writer, it is a matter of choice in most cases as to that specific reason why. Whether the writer is choosing to listen to the voice inside of them that constantly tells them that writing is in their DNA. It could be their passion for storytelling that burns in their essence that informs them internally that writing is their calling. It could be their conscience that keeps telling them that their part, their legacy, their contribution to society is telling the stories of those whose stories are always ignored, forgotten, and outright disregarded as relevant in a society that has a history of telling certain races of people, that they are less than human or not worthy of the world’s attention. That their voices do not matter. That their history, their stories are irrelevant and do not matter. That their lives do not matter. The reason behind my writing is that my conscience and soul could no longer bear the predictable and whitewashed stories that are being told in publication, in Hollywood on the big screens and written in books and novels. Stories that have been burned into our minds and consciousness as society has systematically indoctrinated us with the falsehoods, fallacies, and lies about Black people and people of color being unworthy or uncivilized so their stories, their history does not matter. The constant disparagement about Black bodies, our lips, our intelligence or lack thereof, our skin color, our hair as if we are here to be trivialized by the same people telling the stories who would have you believe that Blacks were nothing more than slaves. That Blacks lacked the intelligence to build great empires, create sophisticated languages, discover science and invent political systems and structures that the so-called western world emulated, stole, then claimed as their own. Representation matters because without representation, those in power with the economic power and ability to produce and publish the stories that many of us read, watch and listen to systematically enforced the racist ideology that Blacks and dark-skinned people were nothing more than slaves. Our true stories, our creativity, our true history, and our ingenuity was whitewashed and completely rewritten to fit a false narrative and enforce a racist and vile ideology. The need for different points of view is imperative if the world, the people living on this planet is to evolve and educate themselves by learning other races and marginalized communities’ fear, anger, disgust, and vulnerabilities. That is impossible if the one telling the story financially, physically, and emotionally benefit from their lies and most importantly not being called out on their lies and falsehoods. Stories help us learn and see a different perspective from others, people of color, who have to deal with life, society in different ways. The harshness and fear that Black people deal with every day can be expressed through these stories and hopefully bring compassion and hopefully some understanding and maybe enlightenment as to what it is really like to navigate society, a country that does not place value on your life and the lives of those who look like you. Writing may be my sanctuary but it is also a place where I can dream, write about my disappointments and write about my hopes, in an attempt to show a different perspective in order to maybe not change minds but inform and educate people in understanding that being constantly disparaged and bombarded by hate, racism, and evil, the anti-Blackness that infected society, is taxing not only physically but spiritually and mentally as well. Many may be sensitive to the topics that I write about but that is an internal issue that they have to work through themselves. Dealing with race is a traumatic and complex issue that Blacks have to deal with every day, not being heard or believed and constantly learning how to deal with a society that places no value, no worth on the lives of Black people is far bigger than some readers’ feelings, hurt emotions or sensitivity. We as a nation, a world, will never be truly humane or civil without hard in your face reality or facts. Although my stories are fictional. There are hard truths to my storytelling and I will not whitewash, pander, or coddle, to appease someone’s white fragility. It will probably cost me readers, followers, and money but my unwavering dedication to telling stories from my perspective and my viewpoint is what is important to me. I write so that stories from and by people of color could be told and hopeful one day be normalized in society and not just seen as an anomaly or outright rejected or dismissed by the masses and those with the power, the influence, and the economics to produce these stories, the gatekeepers, as unintelligent or not ideal or profitable because of racist views and stereotyping deeming works created by people of color as unmarketable. I perhaps like other writers of color write to have our stories heard. Even now.