"Politically Correct" Doesn't Mean Right

"Politically Correct" Doesn't Mean Right

A letter to my politically correct friend and those like her.

On August 9, 2014, Mike Brown of Ferguson, Missouri was shot by a local police officer for allegedly grabbing reaching for Officer Darren Wilson’s gun. While this is not the main point of this article, this is an important moment in history to remember. Since the shooting of Mike Brown, there has been an unrest among society and it’s line between civilians and officers and people of all races have been put in a racial divide. While what I experience falls short of a serious matter, it is something that has become a bit of a nuisance when it is brought into picture.

This is to the girl in my journalism period, and to all those who undermine what people in trivial facts.

Before it is assumed, although I do not think I need to defend myself, this is not just because of “white people” jokes. I make them myself, and I do think that some lines can be crossed when the matter of race is brought into picture- those lines being discussed after a short story time. So without further ado, let us begin.

Every so often I find myself sitting in my journalism class by a friend whom I had only gotten acquainted with properly this year. She is a very sweet, very funny, gorgeous, and immensely talented girl just a grade below me and I love seeing her in class. We get along well, seeing as the two of us- and a couple others- are secluded in the back of the class as editors are every year.

Behind us sit two boys, both younger than the two of us although I am not sure what grade they are in exactly. One is black, and the other is white, (to avoid confusion, we will call the white boy Joey and the black boy Andrew) and they are both always fooling around on odd quizzes and bantering like a married couple, so myself and my friend (we can call her Tiana for the remainder of this story) always end up amused.

It is not strange to hear the two boys bantering about something petty, and the two are obviously saying it all in good fun. There was a time, recently, where Andrew had said that Joey’s hair had looked a certain way, although I can not recall the term he used but it was negative, I assure you. Of course, no offense is taken because it is a friendly joke. Because of this, Joey returns the favor and says “well look at yours!” to which my dearest friend makes a remark about that being racist.

Now, let it be known that I can tell a joke from serious offense, and she was joking- or at least that is how it seemed, so that is how I recall it. Of course, this gas lights the conversation about what is and isn’t racist. Joey states clearly, with a laugh to his voice, that he did not mean it because of his race but because he had said it first. To this, Tiana states that he can not say what is and is not racist, simply because he is white. This was phase one.

Moments later, the two boys are bantering again- they sound like a married couple, believe it or not- about which shoe is “gayer”- flip flops or Heeleys. It is important, for this story, to note that I am the only person who was paying attention that was part of the LGBTQ community, and I had been participating in it. The term isn’t offensive to me, although I could see where it would be offensive to someone… I suppose.

Either way, the conversation goes on and I chime in every so often, and eventually Tiana does as well. Let me reiterate- I am the only person who was paying attention that was part of the LGBTQ community.

Tiana answers the banter with “that’s really offensive.” which stops the conversation, but not in the way she had intended. So I look to her, and I tilt my head, I say to her “you can’t say whats offensive to gay people, you’re straight.” in the same way she had said before about race. She answers with “it’s offensive.”

My question is, why is the rule of “whoever is the minority decides what is offensive” limited to race?

There is another part to this story as well, and this is the part of the story that truly ignited the idea for the article I write today.

Every so often Tiana will turn to me and ask me if I know a certain name, and the moment someone tries to chime in- although, rest assured I know the answer- she tells them to be quiet as if it is a test. The name she had asked about was that of Trayvon Martin. This is not only limited to those of names, but shows in which a remark will be made about how one could not possibly know this show because it is a “black show”.

These are all petty examples, as I don’t experience true racial inequality against either of our groups- black or white- but it has become a nuisance to me in class to feel belittled because I am white, and therefor my knowledge of current events is questioned, or I can not pick what is and isn’t racist.

While I am not posing any serious claims of bullying, it seems to become more and more apparent within pop culture and social media. Take YouTubers like Kat Blaque, who, in her video “ F*** You Pay Me ” tells an anonymous message sender that she should not have to explain her cause, and often belittles white people, as seen in her videos (which are usually titled something similar to White Needs to Educate, if that is any indicator of the content she provides)

Know that I am not talking about jokes, as jokes are often funny because they stem from truth. What I am speaking about is the blatant disrespect of people who claim to want respect back. Generally, it should not have to center around race, however because of the circumstances, race happens to play a part heavily in these scenarios and today's conversations.

If we, as a civilization, are hoping to move forward with what is to be perceived as racist, whether I agree with what is being labeled as racist these days or not, we have to move forward as a civilization that does not belittle each other at all. Hate does not end hate, but breeds it; people do not want to be kind to hypocritical people.

Cover Image Credit: Pixabay

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A Letter To My Go-To Aunt

Happiness is having the best aunt in the world.

I know I don't say it enough, so let me start off by saying thank you.

You'll never understand how incredibly blessed I am to have you in my life. You'll also never understand how special you are to me and how much I love you.

I can't thank you enough for countless days and nights at your house venting, and never being too busy when I need you. Thank you for the shopping days and always helping me find the best deals on the cutest clothes. For all the appointments I didn't want to go to by myself. Thank you for making two prom days and a graduation party days I could never forget. Thank you for being overprotective when it comes to the men in my life.

Most importantly, thank you for being my support system throughout the numerous highs and lows my life has brought me. Thank you for being honest even when it isn't what I want to hear. Thank you for always keeping my feet on the ground and keeping me sane when I feel like freaking out. Thank you for always supporting whatever dream I choose to chase that day. Thank you for being a second mom. Thank you for bringing me into your family and treating me like one of your own, for making me feel special because you do not have an obligation to spend time with me.

You've been my hero and role model from the time you came into my life. You don't know how to say no when family comes to you for help. You're understanding, kind, fun, full of life and you have the biggest heart. However, you're honest and strong and sometimes a little intimidating. No matter what will always have a special place in my heart.

There is no possible way to ever thank you for every thing you have done for me and will continue to do for me. Thank you for being you.

Cover Image Credit: Pixabay

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8 Types Of People Fetuses Grow Into That 'Pro-Lifers' Don't Give 2.5 Shits About

It is easy to fight for the life of someone who isn't born, and then forget that you wanted them to be alive when you decide to hate their existence.


For those in support of the #AbortionBans happening all over the United States, please remember that the unborn will not always be a fetus — he or she may grow up to be just another person whose existence you don't support.

The fetus may grow up to be transgender — they may wear clothes you deem "not for them" and identify in a way you don't agree with, and their life will mean nothing to you when you call them a mentally unstable perv for trying to use the bathroom.

The fetus may grow up to be gay — they may find happiness and love in the arms of someone of the same gender, and their life will mean nothing to you when you call them "vile" and shield your children's eyes when they kiss their partner.

The fetus may grow up and go to school — to get shot by someone carrying a gun they should have never been able to acquire, and their life will mean nothing to you when your right to bear arms is on the line.

The fetus may be black — they may wear baggy pants and "look like a thug", and their life will mean nothing to you when you defend the police officer who had no reason to shoot.

The fetus may grow up to be a criminal — he might live on death row for a heinous crime, and his life will mean nothing to you when you fight for the use of lethal injection to end it.

The fetus may end up poor — living off of a minimum wage job and food stamps to survive, and their life will mean nothing to you when they ask for assistance and you call them a "freeloader" and refuse.

The fetus may end up addicted to drugs — an experimentation gone wrong that has led to a lifetime of getting high and their life will mean nothing to you when you see a report that they OD'd and you make a fuss about the availability of Narcan.

The fetus may one day need an abortion — from trauma or simply not being ready, and her life will mean nothing to you as you wave "murderer" and "God hates you" signs as she walks into the office for the procedure.

* * *

Do not tell me that you are pro-life when all of the above people could lose their lives in any way OUTSIDE of abortion and you wouldn't give 2.5 shits.

You fight for the baby to be born, but if he or she is gay or trans, you will berate them for who they are or not support them for who they love.

You fight for the baby to be born, but if he or she is poor or addicted, you will refuse the help they desperately need or consider their death a betterment of society.

You fight for the baby to be born, but when the used-to-be-classroom-of-fetuses is shot, you care more about your access to firearms than their lives.

It is easy to pretend you care about someone before they are even born, and easy to forget their birth was something you fought for when they are anything other than what you consider an ideal person.

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