Tag: racism

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My partners and therapists have been asking how I am feeling, post-election results. That’s the easy part: Disgust. Frustration. Rage. Determination and Resolve. Exhaustion. But out of all the emotions I can list, I can’t say I was surprised. A large part of me suspected the worst case scenario, and was proven right. And I hate it when my cynicism is justified.

My secondary feelings (the “emotions-to-the-emotions”) is an overwhelming… it’s not sadness. It’s resignation.

You’ve probably seen the images circulating around of the vote breakdown according to race. Most of the votes for Trump were overwhelmingly white– very similar to how 2016 shook out. And those numbers are damning. There have been various speculation as to why this happened. I keep tabbing out of this window and coming back, trying to sum up everything.

To be honest, I don’t want to.

I don’t see the point. Others have already said, and better. In a similar vein I permanently shelved a writing project debunking racist thought patterns that arrest potential dialogue because what’s the fucking point in adding another thinkpiece to the pile that is clearly getting dismissed?

I’m resigned because the vast majority of this country does not care to actually change things for the better. It would rather uphold Whiteness, and capitalism, and systematic oppression, and all the buzzwords the average Karen will tune out than grow and improve. Stacey said, if I may be glib, that there is no point in trusting white women, because performative pink pussy hats and blue bracelets are far more easier than turning the mirror on yourself and your culture.

I am resigned to the feeling that solidarity is so, so far out of reach. In my darkest thoughts, maybe it never was.

It would be so easy to isolate, shut down, don’t stick my neck out for nobody because fuck everybody else they don’t care about me. I am exhausted at defending my very existence, and for what? Those exit poll numbers? What was the fucking point?!

But I know that is wrong. My feelings are valid, yes, but me climbing into a hole of despair, disappointment, and bitterness won’t help anyone.

That’s what they want: to isolate myself.

So I will still not only exist, but be visible. I will help where I can, any way I can. I will still try to form community bonds and friendships and other ways of living in this world. I have family created and forged that I can rely on. I know who my people are.

And I will focus on that.

Outwardly, I am much more cautious and jaded.

I’m no longer extending the olive branch of my personhood and knowledge just so maybe I’ll be seen as human and treated as such. Perhaps every once in awhile I’ll get a bee in my bonnet and discuss this sort of thing, because that is just how I roll. But it won’t be in that outward, educating voice anymore.

I find myself exasperated as some are still insisting on “meeting in the middle,” trying to “change hearts and minds,” when that energy could be spent doing more productive things.

But.

It takes all kinds in a community, doesn’t it? If someone has more patience and energy than I in this endeavor, then I wish them the best. Maybe they’ll have more luck than I ever did.

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Sometimes I give in to the impulse to reach out to people I lost contact with. The results can be… jarring. Especially when the other party stayed the fucking same. Wait, no. That doesn’t seem fair. I suppose everyone is dynamic– it’s just a matter of how they changed.

If it feels like someone didn’t change at all, then what they always seemed to be is just more obvious. That was how I felt when one of the oldest friends briefly flared back into my life. With distance and growth, I saw them as they always were. The friend, on the other hand, was stunned at how different I’ve become (“Glowed up” was how an acquaintance put it). And I could see that, like, of course I did, and I was offended. I remember thinking What on earth did you do these X amount of years, stagnate?!

Well, no.

They just moved perpendicular to how I did. Our catching-up stories included eyerolls at the same pratfalls we keep making, but we laughed in delight as we traded news about a new hobby or love we found because of course we’d be into that, should’ve seen it coming.

Then again… the only person that underwent change could’ve been just me. I knew a friend group that’s frozen in time. A good damn almost-decade later it had shrunk down to the bare essentials and core folx. And oh, yo, have I outgrown a lot of shit. My prime objective no longer meshed with their mission, and our attempts to work around that fact caused significant friction.

And I think a lot about my post-college growing and learning when I was in my second Serious Relationship. Not only was I finding additional facets of my queerness, but I was putting words and concepts together about how I move around in this world and how it treats me. Frankly, my then-partner couldn’t keep up. We split due to the growing incompatibilities– and that included what I would no longer tolerate. We couldn’t make it work as amicable exes either, for the same reason.

Change happens, always, always in flux.

You either outgrow or grow into or reveal.

If you find us walking along the same beach, I suppose I’ll ask if you’ll change with me. I expect you to. I’d be worried if you didn’t.

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Bloganuary Prompt: What do you complain about the most?

The one thing I bitch about the most? Heteronormality.

Nah, scratch that; it’s how binary everything freakin’ is.

No, wait! How I’m expected to be androgynous because I’m non-binary.

No, wait, it’s how the [insert community here] has a racism problem it refuses to acknowledge.

Okay, let’s go with that one. It hurts my heart when I’m hit with racist microaggressions when I exist in queer-forward spaces, on top of the general history of Whiteness marginalizing anyone that isn’t white.

Wait, no, let’s take it a step further with [community] has a [bigot] problem it refuses to acknowledge, if not actively encourage. And it really hurts when it feels like these peers should get it, you know?

Because why the fuck is biphobia still a fucking problem in the overall queer community? I’ve friends who are currently shouted down and erased because they’re never seen as queer enough.

And all of my Black peers stay away from the Hoteps of the diaspora because they insist on hetero normativity, and toxic masculinity.

You know what? It’s bigoty. That’s what I complain about the most.

That’s it, that’s the post, because I’m tired of repeating myself ad nauseum. We’ll be here all day with the long list of examples I can illustrate.

A bitch is tired. I’ll probably expand on this at a later date, complete with personal anecdotes. But for now, just allow me to get to the point:

Solidarity ain’t shit when you’re still a fucking bigot.

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Two panels. The first is a Batman sketch done by Amber, but is accompanied by the text "drawing out for you the same ol' microaggressions and straight-up harassment that has made up the majority of my internet adventures." Second panel: We see Amber now; she has brown cropped hair and glasses. She is holding up her sketch to the other party, a man named Arch who is visibly disturbed by her output. Arch says, "Th-that art makes me feel uncomfortable." Amber, with an expression of weariness, replies "Welcome to the background radiation of my life."
I’d apologize to Willis, but I’m not particularly sorry about this. Amber’s line is just too relatable. SRC: Shortpacked by David Willis.

While Twitter is having its meltdown (due to sabotage or genuine ineptitude, or both), Mastodon is another microblogging service receiving a massive influx of new users. Some are just trying it out; others plan to migrate permanently, and you’ve probably heard about it by now.


It had certainly been a learning curve away from Twitter’s centralized style, for Mastodon is made of individual instances (think: different servers) that can “talk” to each other. And the Mastodon instances can also “talk” to other decentralized services within the Fediverse! Check out Fedi.Tips, by the way; that site can explain things better than I could.


There’s been some… issues. Some users have been calling it “growing pains” or (cue eyerolling) “Eternal September: Mastodon Version.” The problem with these red herrings is the implication that the current problems are just the effects from the deluge of new users. And that said problems are a recent phenomenon.


It really isn’t, and I’m not talking about the technical stuff.


A marginalized person enters a space and realizes it is intolerant of their lived experiences and right to exist. This isn’t just limited to blatant declarations– microaggressions, the papercuts of experience, can add up over time. The prevalence of the overculture allows the same harmful attitudes to carry over because someone refuses to see beyond the tip of their nose (and, you know, unpack their privilege).


And it has become apparent that Mastodon (among other things) has a racist problem. Here are some recent examples, and certainly not limited to…


  • the Content Warning debacle: requests to put politics behind a content warning, ignoring the fact that sometimes, entire lives are politicalized (another version of “censor your life for my comfort!”),

  • the history of PoC-led instances being harassed and even shut down (Look up what happened to PlayVicious; I’ll wait.),

  • Black people being told to “just move instances/block” instead of admins/moderators doing the necessary work to ensure spaces are safe from the get-go (it’s giving strong “segregate yourself” vibes, for starters, and the onus on the marginalized to change their behavior),

  • not to mention how one instance’s “I’ll allow it” is another person’s “WTF?!” Unfortunately, sometimes that “wtf” has been trolling, hate speech, and other unsavory topics that’ll get them defederated from more decent instances.


Marginalized identities, in general, don’t have the luxury of “just picking” one or “starting fresh” in a new place. It has to have policies that align with their comfort and safety, and hopefully the moderation to reinforce it. And it sucks if we pick the wrong one: shitty mods, toxic culture, or just a petri dish of grossness.


This wasn’t “just a migration” for a lot of people, self included. I lucked out on discovering an instance that was explicitly queer-friendly, anti-fascist, and so far has been a safe(r) space for people of color– but this would be my third time moving in my 6 years of using the Fediverse, and I may move again. So it goes.


Background radiation, indeed.


So, as always, Black people are having to carve their existence into a space. Like what we’ve done on Twitter and the many platforms before it. We’ve been finding each other and talking. We’ve been remembering servers come and gone and still holding on despite the insidious grip of casual racism. We’ve drawn boundaries. We’re comparing notes. We’ve been having dialogue. We are claiming space.


For Mastodon to not only supersede Twitter but to thrive in its own merit, it needs to not only listen to the vulnerable among us, but implement changes for a better Internet culture. The tools have been there, and so have been their highlighted shortcomings.


Now what will they make of it?