2017 IS THE YEAR WHITE FEMINISM CHECKED HERSELF INTO HOSPICE AND REFUSED TO DIE
May white feminism stay and die in 2017.
They have really outdone themselves. My newsfeed curation is constantly being managed by my trigger-happy fingers that have turned ‘unfollow’ into a reflex reaction. Yet, I can be laughing uproariously at some delicious black comedy and I know on the horizon Becky Conquistador waits in her boat being rocked by the waves, salivating at the opportunity to colonize my mind and place herself at the center of my thinking AGAIN!
These are the descendants of suffragettes who were irate at the idea of black men receiving the vote before them. Those who had the cheek to try to turn Sojourner Truth into a tokenistic afterthought compelling her to ask “Ain’t I a Woman”. In 2017, their offspring made them mighty proud.
Here is a round-up of the hills white feminists chose to die on in 2017:
Pink pussy hats
The booming erudition of Linda Sarsour, Janet Mock and many other women of color emboldened me to think that we could endure 45 and that intersectional feminism would be allowed the free rein to coagulate us into meaningful conclusive action. But no, the Becky coalition giddy from guzzling grande green tea lattes decided that pink pussy hats should become the ultimate cringe worthy accessory to their resistance. Even the most sophisticated capitalist and maker of those ‘bloody shoes’ Christian Louboutin has enough sense to court the money of those who covet his designs with the catchy moniker that “nude is not a color, it’s a concept”. Becks doesn’t think about sisters with lips that are brown or sisters without pussies. So, we got the message. You don’t think or care about us.
The insincerity of Darth Becky aka Taylor Swift (Brotha Damon Young of Very Smart Brothas is evidently blessed and highly favored to come up with a title that is so spiritually accurate) is monumental and deserves a statue. Right next to the one where her ‘Reputation’ lies. “Ooo, look what you made me do!” became an anthem for the alt-right, and I can also confirm this is the song that Satan Becky aka Carolyn Bryant, who got Emmet Till killed, has requested for her funeral.
The Erasure of Tarana Burke
Tarana Burker, THE FOUNDER OF THE #METOO MOVEMENT, was omitted from Time Magazine’s Person/People of the Year, “The Silence Breakers” cover. Jane Fonda admitted that you get more sympathy for being a survivor who is “famous and white”. Again, we got the message, most of you don’t think or care about us.
When Hipster Becky sits down, takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, I am now quite certain her guided meditation mantra commands her to repeat “I am trash. Believe in being trash. Be the trash. Traaaaaaaaaash!” There are enough examples of Lena Dunham being worthy of a dumpster fire for years to come. People often wonder why we survivors don’t come forward. It’s often because we know that there will most definitely be those who use their power to denigrate us.
It just so happens that the only victim of assault Dunham chose to gaslight and not believe is Black. Imagine being so disgusting that you state: “our insider knowledge of Murray’s situation makes us confident that sadly this accusation is one of the 3 percent of assault cases that are misreported every year.” This after Aurora Perrineau has been ripped to shreds by writer Murray Miller’s attorneys for being a money-hungry liar (which they then retracted because it was false). That term ‘insider knowledge’ is the kicker. Those two words are the damning dog whistle communicating to us, that if we knew what they knew, we too would agree that “this gold-digging whore is a liar”.
Such treatment, women of color in the public eye have been forced to get used to. Lupita Nyong’o was the only woman Harvey Weinstein had the temerity to respond to stating that he had “a different recollection of events” — followed eventually by Salma Hayek. When women of color get publicly attacked we see the tumbleweeds on the pages of white feminists from whom one could expect outrage and a think piece or two. I mean Rose McGowan gets standing ovations and an army of Twitter soldiers at the whisper of a threat to her good name being besmirched. But no, crushing avocados for one’s toast is all rather labor intensive and thus we get the message. You don’t think or care about us.
It’s almost as if the former editor of British Vogue sought to drag herself by giving an interview to The Guardian which revealed her to be jealous of her Black replacement in the same way 45 is jealous of his Black predecessor. Oh, and it’s clear that she feels the average British Vogue subscriber is quite aligned with the average Brexit voter and hates the idea of buying a magazine with a Black woman on the cover. It’s a cacophonous car crash of an interview and a real coup for the interviewee who elicited such gems as:
“She’s the perfect mixture of mixed race…”
“You would sell fewer copies. It’s as simple as that.”
“…it’s so stressful, that whole thing about models – black – the whole thing.”
There is a particularly insidious form of erasure behind white liberal posturing in being innocuously color blind. It barely conceals the fact that you don’t think or care about us.
White women will vote for male sexual assault perpetrators, pedophiles, pro-lifers and any other man who promises to do everything he can to boost their white privilege. You can come for me in the comments trying to state otherwise, but just be prepared to be superbly embarrassed in the rebuttal process because the arsenal is fully stocked with facts. Particularly galling was the cheap gratitude of people stating that Black women voters sought to save white people from themselves. No, Mammy retired. If you need “the help” you can call Omarosa because she now has the time.
In 2018, we will continue to be too busy thinking and taking care of ourselves. Oh and of course, RECLAIMING OUR TIME!