Difficult Discussions
Growing up I was frequently told I made a big deal out of, well just about everything. I couldn't "take a joke". I was prone to being "too serious" and needed to "lighten up".
I eventually learned, through my Mother's training, to laugh when I didn't find a situation or joke funny. I leaned to bite back many of the questions or concerns. To hide my judgement in hopes that I'd fit in better.
She would tell you I never would back down on many topics. I'm as "stubborn as a mule" and don't respect my elders because I "always have to be right". I'm a know-it-all who thinks I'm better than everyone else.
I had a conversation with a friend tonight in which I called them on invalid information (COVID spike is due to Memorial Day ignorant behavior, not protesters) and on some racist language they used.
It was exhausting and not fun at all. I don't feel a sense of satisfaction and moral superiority, contrary to what my Mother believed. I feel sad, very sad.
I ranted about it to process, but mostly to remember things about three conversation I want to remember and write more about when I have the mental bandwidth. There was so much white fragility in the conversation. So much to unpack about what people think when you talk about a racist.
They envision a dude in a white hood or wearing a swastika or even the conferderate flag. They don't picture my Mother complaining about "lazy Mexicans" (she said "Mexican" for any Latinx person). That's a problem.
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