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I’m just going to be real with you, white America, y’all don’t seem very comfortable with being called what you are: white.

I get it. Being white in this country is the default, so you never have to think about yourself in terms of race. You just are.

For POCs, it’s the opposite. Race is intertwined in every interaction, all day, every day, until the day we die. Just think about the word race for a moment. What are you picturing? Black folks. Hispanic folks. Asian folks. Indigenous folks. Non-white folks.

Why is that, you ask? Because white is the default. The standard. The norm.

The only time we notice race is when people are not white. That’s the foundation upon which systemic racism has managed to flourish for hundreds of years in this country. And it’s why you get so damned itchy when a POC calls you white.

Recently, an Asian friend of mine posted something on Facebook about an incident involving a lot of racist bullshit when she was just trying to enjoy herself one evening. She included an article that explained Asian fetishization and white supremacy (which she absolutely did not have to do, but POCs are forever hoping they’ll be able to educate, even when they are the ones constantly barraged with inappropriate and racist crap). I read the article and, as is my way because I am Queen Word Nerd, I quoted a particularly moving sentence that started along the lines of: ‘The confusion of my white friends…’

One woman took immediate issue with the quote, because of the word white. It was divisive, she claimed, and then continued to advise that my friend educate these friends and if they refused to be educated, they were not friends at all (she seemed completely oblivious to the fact that the incident mentioned in the original post did not involve a friend at all, but a stranger).

Hmmm. Okay. So the onus is on the POC to breakout a comprehensive lesson plan whenever a white person does some racist bullshit? Funnily enough, my friend had already done just that by providing the article that accompanied her story of racist fuckery one fine spring evening. Yet the white woman (yeah, I said it; I’ll shout it from the rooftops: WHITE WOMAN) insisted on making the narrative one in which my friend (or, rather, me since I quoted that portion of the article) was being divisive. As y’all know from one of my earlier blog posts, when a white person uses the word divisive when talking to a POC, that actually means STFU.

Listen, y’all, there’s nothing wrong with the skin you’re in, be it white, black, brown, or whatever. Just own it. Don’t be afraid of it. And acknowledge the way you’re able to move through the world because of it.

Call me black, because that’s what I am, and it’s what I call myself. And I’m going to call you white if that’s what you are. If that makes you uncomfortable, you have some serious shit to process on your own time. I can’t imagine the discomfort that would have to be simmering inside in order to make me flinch at someone calling me black.

The history of this country is ugly in so many places, and we see it reflected in the way we’re treated–good or bad–due to the color of our skin. The dialectic of oppressor vs. oppressed is everywhere apparent. It issues forth in all kinds of fucked up situations that make us question just how far we’ve come as a nation.

Is that why the woman went nutso at the use of an appropriate adjective in a quote that was not even about her?

POCs don’t have the luxury of forgetting what we look like. We are acutely aware of what color we are, mostly because of the way white folks treat us. If that reality makes you uncomfortable, I honestly can’t find a single fuck to give. But if you really want to have a tough conversation that doesn’t devolve into you calling me divisive the minute you’re made to feel the slightest bit uncomfortable, I’m usually in a talking mood…

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It’s a pretty normal morning. I’m online, cruising through my social media feeds, just getting my feet wet before I start working for the day. I click open an article with a headline announcing that yet another man has been removed from his high profile job due to multiple allegations of sexual harassment. I roll my eyes as I read through the story, muttering expletives about creepy, entitled men and the damage they cause. Before I move on, I leave a comment under the news outlet’s post that contained the article.

Men need to do better. This shit is getting ridiculous.

My appetite for news and friends’ status updates satisfied for the moment, I dive into my freelance work. Later, when I come up for air, I see that someone responded to my comment on the article. It’s a man, of course, and his reply is so cliched, I actually chuckle under my breath as I read it.

I think what you meant to say is that some men need to to better.

Spoiler alert: I meant what I said the first time.

And, anyway, there are certainly many instances where its imperative that we speak with measured precision, but Twitter ain’t one of them.

Now, I could respond with my usual snark (and I have, falling down a deep, dark rabbit hole that burns through precious minutes of my life that I will never get back, though I’m often laughing hard enough to send tears streaming down my face at how upset my little old vagina-fueled opinions are making this random male stranger), but my newly drafted 2018 protocol instructs me to immediately delete comments and/or block accounts, because who needs that kind of negativity in their lives?

If y’all have Twitter accounts older than a few years, you’ll remember the first time a movement similar to #metoo swept through the online platform. It was called #yesallwomen, and it felt pretty powerful to read through the stories of women who had faced sexual harassment and abuse and to have an opportunity to share my own tales. The point of the hashtag was to illustrate that all women had these kinds stories, and though it didn’t cause quite the widespread cultural upheaval that we’re seeing today, it did give a name to a new kind of argument: #notallmen.

What does this often used, but rarely delineated tactic mean, you ask? Honestly, this is classic re-centering, pure and simple.

Here’s how it works:

Instead of discussing my actual concern–the culture of men using their physical strength and professional or social influence to harass, assault, brutalize, and rape women–the dude decided to take issue with a matter of semantics in a blatant attempt to turn the focus away from a worthwhile conversation, and onto a much less important matter. We then start arguing back and forth over my choice of words instead of talking about the issue at hand. Well, not really, since I now block with unadulterated glee, my maniacal laughter waking my dogs from their mid-morning naps. Come at me, faceless, fragile bros of social media! See how many fucks I don’t give!

Spoiler alert: it’s a great deal.

What’s endlessly interesting to me is how many men feel the need to interject in this way the instant a woman utters the shocking statement that men have a lot of work to do to reverse the damage toxic masculinity has wrought on our culture. And, honestly, this tendency perfectly proves my point that men–including the one above who just attempted to school a female he’s never met before–need to do better.

Re-centering an argument is a way to silence an opinion you don’t want to hear. That’s the motivation behind a #notallmen argument that insists we focus on the shiny object produced out thin air instead of talking about rape culture, rampant sexism, and how we can make this country a safer, healthier place for women and girls.

In other words, fellas, if your response to a legitimate concern is to whip out your trusty #notallmen retort, you need to reassess…unless of course you also take issue with the flagrant overuse of other generalizations. If I said, for example, dogs don’t like cats or Americans like watching baseball, would you find a way to condescendingly respond with not all dogs or not all Americans? I’m guessing probably not.

We tend to speak in generalizations, and we rarely find a reason to slow our interlocutor’s roll, unless we don’t agree with her. And when the discussion centers around sexism, you can expect to be called out for daring to besmirch the collective good name of men, the poor darlings. But knowledge is power, and now that we see #notallmen for what it is–a way to silence speech men don’t value or want to hear–we can keep on keeping on with our bad selves.

And, seriously, use the hell out of those delete and block functions, ladies. You will not believe the absolute joy it brings…

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