3 Types of Racists That Are More Dangerous Than What You Think a Racist Looks Like

24 Aug

Millions March NYC

My favorite comedian duo, Key and Peele, once joked that “‘Racist’ is the N-word for white people.”

While this phrase is highly problematic, as there is no white N-word equivalent, I can’t think of anything I could say that would piss off my white friends and associates more than to call them racists.

Call someone racist, and they’ll clutch their pearls and pull out a rolodex of friends of color who can vouch for their “wokeness.”

They’ll explain how they’re not voting for Trump, how they love diversity, and how they cannot stand to stay in the room when they go home for Thanksgiving and their old Great Uncle Jack gets to talking about the problems with “the coloreds.” They’ll admit they have older racist relatives, but they won’t dare have you thinking that they are anything like those relatives.

This reaction is pretty understandable. Other than proud white supremacists like Great Uncle Jack, who really wants to be called racist?

But many people are racist without even realizing that they are. This is because many of us have a skewed image of what a racist looks like.

Everyone tends to picture an older generation of folks who are card-carrying members of the KKK from the deep south who proudly wave confederate flag, still use the N-word, and keeps mammy figurines in the window sills of their homes.

We think of these folks as the small percentage of the population that is dying out

They may not enjoy wearing white hoods and publicly promoting white supremacy; however, there are several types of racists can be just as dangerous as, if not even more dangerous than, Great Uncle Jack.

Here are 3 types of racists that are even more dangerous than the typical image of a racist.

Do you fall into any of these categories? Read more at Everyday Feminism

Hey Fam. I originally published this article on Everyday Feminism. You can enjoy the rest of the article there.

Photo courtesy of The All-Nite Images via Flickr.

How I Confront Sex Positivity and Consent as an Asexual Feminist

2 Aug

Ace Flag 1

I was scrolling down my Tumblr feed the other day, when I came across a post in all caps that read, “THE ‘A’ DOES NOT STAND FOR ‘ALLY!’”

I immediately got the reference, and chuckled a bit, because it’s a common misconception about the LGBTQIA+ acronym I used to have. It wasn’t until I started to question my own sexuality that I understood the A represented a sexual orientation I hadn’t realized I was: asexual.

I first considered that I was asexual about three years ago, when I was still a virgin. I had met the perfect guy, but I couldn’t figure out why I didn’t want to sleep with him.

For some reason I thought I would feel something magical and intense, and in that moment, I would know it was the right time. It seems silly, but for someone who has never experienced sexual attraction, that is how I imagined people decided they wanted sex.

That feeling of readiness never happened. Eventually, I became impatiently curious, and figured I’d try it out. My first time was more of an experiment for me rather than a real desire to have sex.

As an asexual person, “ace” for short, I do not experience sexual attraction, which is what generally characterizes aces. As an added bonus, I also do not experience sexual desire and sometimes feel a bit sex averse. Asexuality has a spectrum, so there is a lot of diversity in the asexual community, people who experience varying levels of attraction, desire, and aversion.

I wasn’t ready to accept my asexuality three years ago. After misunderstanding it for about two years and reading about alternatives for why I had no desire for sex, I decided to take an online test that was supposed to tell me if I was asexual or not.

My results… read more at Slutist.

Here’s Why Refusing to ‘See Color’ Doesn’t Actually Mean You’re Not Racist

26 Jul

Blindfold

Whenever someone says “I don’t see color,” I think back to a time when I didn’t notice it either.

I was a little girl, excited to open Christmas gifts. One Christmas Eve, my parents were wrapping presents while I pretended to be asleep. I peeked through their cracked door as they pulled a life-size Kelly doll out of a box that had shipped earlier that day.

It was exactly what I’d asked for, and I was ecstatic but my parents weren’t pleased. Apparently, this wasn’t the doll they’d meant to order.

This doll was white.

I’d never noticed before that my dolls were a different color from the ones shown in commercials. I understand now that my parents only bought me dolls of color so that I could play with something that looked like me. I understand that they wanted to raise me in a pro-black household where I could love my complexion. But back then, I didn’t care about any of that – I simply wanted the Kelly doll, no matter what color… Read more at Everyday Feminism.

Photo courtesy of Mirko Tobias Schäfer via Flckr.

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