But I love my skin. Because I love being a woman. Because not hating myself as a black woman is considered radical. Because I’ve been called a racist for defending myself. Because all the major protests are for cis black men. Because I’ve been told that talking about the women who’ve died is taking away from the real issue of police brutality and a violent culture. Because I have to fight everywhere I go. Because everything is a struggle. Because my anger is never validated. Because white society doesn’t care about my pain. Because white society doesn’t believe in my pain. Because I’m not free. Because the awareness of it permeates everything. Because it’s not ending. Because they teach the children that it’s already ended. Because someone will assert their supremacy over me today. Because they’ll do it tomorrow. Because I want more. Because I deserve better, and I don’t have a single experience with white people that I could call “neutral” or “positive” because I have been conditioned that everything I’ve earned I may not have just received because of being black, or out of pity because I am black. …show more content…
And I listen to them too. And that listening is what makes a dialogue good for me. I feel that dialogue breaks down when people get tired of listening, and zone out. When the POC experiences are no longer valued or listened to, the dialogue fuzzes out. Also I feel like when there is a sincere lack of different opinions in the room because of a lack of speaking, the dialogue fizzes out. I’m scared that in this course there will not be anyone brave enough to come out and be “ignorant” or not conventionally politically correct in front of the group. I feel like there is a lot of harm done in political correctness – and it limits the benefits a free and open