There’s a deeply inconvenient truth that the Black Lives Matter, Inc. left does not want Americans to hear. Anyone can be racist and anyone can be the victim of racism. We’ve seen this over the past months with multiple videos of black people attacking white people because they are white, even with police investigating some as hate crimes. The media doesn’t care to report those, but fortunately they are not the lone informational gatekeepers anymore.
This bookends with obvious racist acts against black people. The true number of incidents on both sides are small, but the point is they are on both sides and involve other ethnicities as well. This is just an ugly part of human nature — not a one-race-specific act, which is a racist assertion.
But you don’t need to be physically attacked — or even killed, as the young man in Milwaukee was — to be the victim of racism.
I grew up in Flint, Michigan in the 1960s and 1970s. Flint was a racially divided city in those years, experiencing the riots of 1967 and general racial distrust. There was just a lot of racism to go around.
In elementary school, I was a majority but there was a sizable and growing minority of black kids. In around fifth or sixth grade — it was a long time ago — I was over and over again chased home by two black kids, one who was my size and one who was huge for our age. They made it abundantly clear they hated me because I was white. More than once they caught me. I recall being held down and punched under some bushes next to a corner house one time. I wasn’t the only kid to get this treatment, and pretty sure it went the other way, also.
Pretty ugly stuff and obviously reflecting what they heard in the home and by other adults and kids in their milieu. But I also remember some dads talking, frustrated with the rioting and destruction, and one of them said, “I’ll vote for any president who will send three shiploads of them back to Africa.” Also pretty ugly stuff.
We moved out of that neighborhood and to Flint Township before junior high began because of the fights I was getting in. By 1982, I graduated from Michigan State University with a degree in journalism after working sometimes full-time while carrying a full load, just to get through. White privilege, you know.
Like The Revolutionary Act on Facebook
In the late 1980s, we wanted to live in the Twin Cities and I applied and was interviewed for a job at the St. Paul Pioneer Press Dispatch newspaper. At the end of the interviews, I was sitting in the office of, I think, the Managing Editor, but I don’t recall for sure. He was an old-time newspaper guy with a jar of cigars on his desk and one in his mouth. And he let slip — and by slip, I mean he straight up told me — that I seemed like a good reporter and qualified, but I would not be getting the job because it was reserved for a minority journalist as part of affirmative action. I think he was trying to make me feel better, but it really didn’t.
For the second time, I had been victimized by people or a system for having white skin. I strongly suspect this happened more in my newspaper career, but I have no evidence of it.
While it is possible that whites face less racism than blacks, I strongly doubt that is the case in journalism and other fields dominated by leftists. But as I understand the current most woke thinking, which may change by the time this column is completed, “lived experiences” trump any of that data.
I don’t really believe that of course, because I operate in the realm of common sense. But the reality is I am far from alone in experiencing racism that is utterly counter to the dominant cultural narrative. My story, and thousands like it, put a stake in the heart of white privilege. I represent one bookend of the lie of white privilege and one-way racism in America. Sasha and Maya Obama already have the “lived experiences” representing the other bookend.
And in between the bookends? The lie remains a lie.