Grandma is a racist. Not an uncommon phenomenon, but disconcerting to say the least. Actually, I don't really have a problem with racists, so long as they aren't extraordinarily powerful. You see, lots more people are racists than it might seem. They're like potheads. It's cool for a while when its just you and your friends that are into it. Then you start to realize that if you are going to keep it up you're going to have to keep it under wraps.
Grandma is a racist. She was lecturing me about my beard and how I look like one of "them" (Muslims) and how I have a responsibility to look "nice" because I am white and there just aren't that many white people around anymore.
Oh grandma, don't you know? Your grandson is a multiculturalist. He grew up in a society of "them". He is "them" and soon you will be, too. Skin color is just one of many cultural tags for him to read, of no greater or lessor value than many, many others.
Grandma is a racist. She was lecturing me about my beard and how I look like one of "them" (Muslims) and how I have a responsibility to look "nice" because I am white and there just aren't that many white people around anymore.
Oh grandma, don't you know? Your grandson is a multiculturalist. He grew up in a society of "them". He is "them" and soon you will be, too. Skin color is just one of many cultural tags for him to read, of no greater or lessor value than many, many others.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home