Tonight I received a notification that I had a new comment on my blog on a post that I wrote around 6 months ago. And the first three letters of the name of the commenter was the same as someone who comments a lot, so I was excited.
As it turns out, it was from someone else. An angry woman. The comment started off with:
Are you 12 years old?
No. I am not actually.
Anyways, apparently in this blog post I had mentioned that I wanted to be friends with a sassy black lady.
This commenter found that statement to be extremely racist.
This was very difficult for me to read.
You know, basic psychology teaches us that we all have some inherent racist tendencies. It’s just natural. It doesn’t mean we are racist, but simply that it is there.
I never really worried about that before. I always just accepted that this was natural. But due to recent hardships I have gone through, I have really been making an effort to shed off some of my previous callousness.
I have worried about things that I have said in the past, but I have over 7000 tweets and 525 blog posts. I don’t know all that I have said, so I was just trying to move forward and work on being better.
But the reason this was especially hard for me to read was that I thought my desire to be friends with a sassy black woman was the opposite of racism. Even now.
This commenter said that I should just want to be friends with a sassy person not objectify them by being black.
Well, I am a sassy person, but I could never be the type of person I was describing simply because I am not black.
And in that way I thought by saying that I was celebrating the diversity between us, not:
exemplifying why racism exists.
The more I look at this situation the more I notice that I seem to lose no matter what I say.
But it’s even worse because this is something that I have been consciously worried about.
I mean, telling someone they exemplify racism…what a nasty thing to say to someone.
But then I realize that I am not a real someone to my readers. I’m just words on a screen and that one video I did once.
You guys don’t see the cringe on my face when I read a nasty, brutal comment like that one, which I do get nasty comments semi frequently, I just never approve them to be seen.
No one is picturing me driving home thinking about that comment and feeling like utter crap that someone would view me that way.
Because I am not real.
Tonight a friend of mine asked me a question that I have gotten before about why I didn’t section of myself for my blog. Why didn’t I stay anonymous and only show pieces of myself to my blog.
I never wanted to do that, because the thing I do best is be me. This whole blog started without followers and commenters, it was just me.
That’s why it’s my last name on these posts. Why it’s fully linked up to my social networks. And why it’s fully linked to my life.
But with that level of honesty and over such a long period of time, there comes exposure and vulnerability.
Newtons law, for every action there is a reaction.
So, in a lot of ways, this is what I get.Follow @corzgalore