Left for dead in the comments...

I am opinionated.  I know this.  I am Black.  I also know this.  Navigating the world with all of my intersections can be challenging at times.  I have found that to exist harmoniously on the internet, namely social media sites, I had to create some boundaries that manifested in the form of rules for myself to follow.  One of these rules is that I have the right to post whatever I want on my page, but I am not to engage in discourse on anyone else’s posts.  I have a long history of people going out of their way to be rude, loud and even downright abusive to me and usually it is when I have broken that rule and engaged on someone else’s page.  ​

The other day, a friend of mine posted a status that explored why the BLM movement was held responsible for the activities of all looters and rioters, but the NRA was never held responsible for school shooters.  I agreed with the sentiment of the comparison, and went to explore the comments section.  I found several dissenting opinions and some very angry backlash from her friend group. I wasn’t surprised. Not even a little bit.  Well, let me adjust that.  I wasn’t surprised that there was anger.  I was surprised at the amount and the fervor of the anger.  I debated for a long time about whether or not to post anything on the thread.  After all, rules are rules, and the rules I implemented are for my own peace of mind.  I decided to comment (against my better judgment), just to let my friend know she was seen and supported.

I was careful not to reply to any other comments on the thread.  I didn’t want to be mistaken for trying to dialog with any angry person. I left an affirming comment for my friend apologizing for the backlash she was receiving simply from sharing her opinion.  I told her that it was my experience that when people have reached a certain level of anger, especially when arguing on the internet, they are unable to be moved from their opinions. I then went on with my life.  For awhile anyway.  

Before I knew it, I was getting notifications for angry comments made in response to my comment to my friend.  I knew who the culprit was immediately, but I was surprised by his level of anger.  It turns out my plan to avoid any retribution by creating my own comment was thwarted.  The angry fellow replied directly to my comment multiple times before I had even had a chance to check my phone.  The exchange was never mild on his end, and eventually, over the course of the 4 hours we went back and forth, he became downright abusive.  I have learned over the years how to defend myself verbally, and so I can engage in a good argument now and again, but I actually don’t enjoy it.  Sometimes I have run into the false idea that I enjoy myself in these situations.  I don’t, but I won’t be bullied either. 

Over the course of this argument, the man showed his hand several times.  He had no working definition for racism and accused me of being racist because I identified him as being white.  He also stated that my lack of response to a comment he posted proved him right in assuming that I was racist.  Truthfully, I was driving and that’s why I hadn’t responded to him.  That is neither here nor there. He proceeded to call me “girl” on a response he made.  I told him that I found that offensive and asked him not to do it again. He did it again on the next post.  I know what you may be thinking, “why didn’t you just walk away?  There is nothing to be proved by staying..”  You may be right.  But it is in situations like this that the Taurus in me comes out.  I dig my heels in and accomplish whatever task is at hand.  Also, people who attempt to steamroll others with their opinions need to encounter someone who will stand their ground now and again.  At least that’s what I tell myself.  In short, I didn’t choose this life, it chose me haha.  

Once “girl” was off the table, this gentleman proceeded to weaponize every name he could find. Sweetheart, princess, babydoll.. He used whatever he could to try to hurt me. I do find it important to note that although I did go back and forth with this man, I eventually switched modes and operated on “petty level” replying to his poorly written posts with gifs and puns using figurative language… exerting my dominance.  I used gifs containing Black folks whenever I could just to add an extra layer of irritation. I eventually got the last word by reminding the man that this whole exchange could have been avoided had he stayed in his lane and not tried to handle me on the internet. I was never talking to him, but he had unwittingly proved my initial point that no progress can be made on the internet with people so angry as himself. 

But honestly, I didn’t come here to talk about that.  I just needed to set the stage so you could hear where I’m going.  

At some point during this tirade, the friend who’s page this was all posted on DM’d me to ensure that I was okay. I minimized my feelings as I was fuming, but let her know I would be okay.  She apologized for the man’s behavior and we went on with our lives. 

**I want to make sure that before you read further, you understand that I am in no way being critical of anyone’s heart or their intentions.  I believe that the hardest thing to tackle when talking about white supremacy and systemic racism is that even when our intentions are great, our behaviors may fall into a pattern that support the status quo which is white supremacy and patriarchy.  As a Black woman, I can often see the big picture of how white people I love fall into the systems that oppress Black folks. I can see them and I can see the system, but because the system is bad doesn’t mean that those people are bad.**  Now that we got that out of the way…

Once the DM exchange was over, I felt yucky. I felt triggered, and I worked to figure out what was causing me so much discomfort.  I found that the situation felt familiar. I could recall a number of times where I was involved in a heated exchange, usually about some racially charged issue and the owner of the conversation privately DM’d me to show support.  It has happened time and time again.  And I’ve finally been able to name why it causes pain. 

I am currently reading Me and White Supremacy.  I’ve been super curious about the book although it is written for white people. In addition to reading it out of curiosity, I am reading it because when I recommend books to my white peers, I want to know what is in the book as well.  Just as I wouldn’t be able to give the best recommendation for a restaurant I’ve never visited, I also wouldn’t be able to completely confidently recommend a book I haven’t read. But I digress.  There is a part of the book that talks about what anti-Blackness against Black women looks like.  As I read that chapter and looked back at these experiences, it all made perfect sense.  Black women are often expected to be strong and adored for their seemingly super human strength.  This perception of strength seems to be the hook folks hang their hat on as they pass right through an abusive conversation.  The thought pattern seems to be, “well, it looked like you were holding your own, so I didn’t say anything.  You had it handled!  Go you! You’re so strong! That’s why Black women are awesome!!! *fist bump*”  Although I can follow this train of thought, it's problematic. Black women are strong. They’re beautiful and majestic and all of those things. The problem is, we would often love to be helped. Not rescued, but helped.  Not one person came to help.  There was the occasional “like” or “care” emoji, but nobody came to amplify the voice of a Black woman being publicly abused online.  

Later, the owner of the post came and replied to some of the posts the angry gentleman had made.  She was so patient with him and explained so much to him.  Another person praised her for her patience.  I know I was already in an escalated state and the comment was not even about me.. Yet I internalized it.  I have been tone policed before tone policing had a name.  I have been made to feel that because I wasn’t presenting information with a warm and maternal tone, that it was unusable; in a format that couldn’t be accessed by white people *Error, File type not found- please convert to a form without righteous anger*

The cost of self-awareness is knowing the names of the arrows as they pierce you.  And realizing that knowing their names does not protect from the pain they cause. 

Let me be clear.  People who abuse are not worthy of the energy it takes to present difficult information in a warm and welcoming tone.  And every time we let them abuse and meet them with full-on acceptance and no accountability, we reinforce that behavior.  One thing I have learned is that white supremacist ideals are intrinsicly linked with patriarchy.  They’re in an entanglement.  This became all too clear when I asked this abusive man not to call me “girl” and he went straight to “sweetheart” and other terms that focused on and attacked my femininity.  When white supremacy struck out, patriarchy was next at bat.  Honestly, the only thing that might be more American is America’s pastime, where I borrowed these references. 

So what am I saying?  I’m saying call out abusive behavior.  Call out white supremacy.  Call out patriarchy.  But please don’t retreat to the safety of an inbox.  It is impossible to amplify Black voices from your DMs.  Standing up for Black lives doesn’t just mean standing up when they are being killed.  It means standing up when they’re being disrespected and abused. Allyship is a hands-on activity.  It will require a lot of you.  I get it.  I was pooped after this interaction.  But sometimes things just need to be said.  Most normal people would not pass by someone being berated and disrespected and give them a thumbs up or a head nod to show support.  Apply that way of being to your online environments as well.

Okay. I feel better now.