Choose the Poor Children and Give them Hope

[I'm tired of making disclaimers. If you don't like what I usually have to say, go away. Seriously, you're stupid.]

Choose the Poor Children and Give them Hope

Written by Grandpa Dinosaur

I just got my thank you package from Donor’s Choose, it was filled with many thank yous. Some were to another (food) donator, but most where to me (donated pots, pans and utensils). If you do not know, Donor’s Choose is an organization dedicated to connecting donators like me connect with teachers in classrooms. I had a keen interest in helping students with good nutrition as I suffered from malnutrition as a child growing up in the ghetto.

The details of the project are as follows:

“Baking bread is a fun way to let at-risk students learn that there is more to cooking then fried chicken and greens. The high school level children will make bread, cakes, and muffins as the standard course of study allows but the school has no pans to cook these items. Until three years ago this school did not even offer any extra classes like family and consumer sciences. The students in foods 1 will find the recipes at home, in cookbooks, or on the internet. They will mix the ingredients with our mixer, then cook the breads, cakes, and muffins.

Middle school students will bake also using these pans with much more supervision. Students share their end products with other students and staff at school. This is a two week lesson that can and will be extended because students have shown interest in cake decorating. The younger students will decorate cookies they make. The students at this school are all at-risk students and empowering them to be better people and better at something goes a very long way with them. Also, many of these students only eat while at school and this helps make their mind and body stronger.

My project needs any bakeware items to learn to make breads, cakes, or muffins. The cost of this proposal is $310, which includes shipping for any materials requested and fulfillment.”

This is the  Teacher’s return letter:

“Dear [Grandpa Dinosaur],

You gift was amazing! My students are both middle school and high school ages with a wide range of special needs. When they cooked with their new pots, pans, dishes and utensils they were shocked they could actually cook or bake without any extra help. Most of these students remember the end product not the process, but as their teacher, I can see the impact you had on them. Thank you for your generous gift that would keep giving.

Sincerely [Teacher]“

As a child, I knew that being hungry effected my performance in school and I can’t imagine the kind of poverty that these children endure. If only they are able to have a little happiness then I am also happy. I am committed to helping students in High-Poverty areas because as a child I grew up in a High-Poverty area, when I become a stable adult I would like to commit more time and effort in helping poor immigrant children. (Note: I said poor immigrant children, if you’re indifferent to the poor and cannot see them that is your problem and not mine.)

So far with all of my donations combined 220 Students have been effected creating 80 hours of learning.

I’m not someone who forgets my poor roots nor am I someone who treats children with indifference. In fact, as you have read in my article EURO-CENTRIC, UNCE UNCE: Afro-Centric and Euro-centric Schools and both of Davita Cuttita’s articles on growing up in the Ghetto as well as Davita Cuttita’s article on “Thinking of the Children: The Effects of Internalized Racism” you will know that at we are committed to bringing light to the plight of children. Coloured children fall into the cracks, they’re penalized and demonized and automatically labelled “at trouble children”. They don’t even know that they’re on the chopping block.

As a Cambodian woman, I try to keep my head up high and go forward and fulfill my dreams. I have a deep responsibility to set an example for children and say, “you can have this too. It’s hard and you have to work hard and stick to it and if you want it badly enough and work at it you can get it.”

The impact is small, but little by little I see the progress. You cannot save the world, but at the same time I knew I can at least do something tiny.

I also know that I’m a pioneer in terms of my goals and aspirations and I will continue to build roads rather than bridges for my own causes. It is better to try and fail, than to not try at all and never know.

I want to set a good example and give hope to others. I know that both of Davita Cuttita’s younger brothers look up to me (as well as many other people and children) and I owe them Flash lessons and a copy of my Graphic Novel when it launches.

I will close with the last letter. Most of my letter were from boys, this is my favourite:

“Dear [Grandpa Dinosaur],

I enjoy using the pots and pans. I enjoy making cupcakes and cakes. Thank you for donating pots and pans, hopefully we will get to use them in the future.

Love, Tyrell

Davita Cuttita commented that they were (mostly if not all) Black children, but I already knew that. And would probably donate again in a heartbeat.

Fatness, Fat Suits and Black Entertainment

Movie poster of Tyler Perry in a fatsuit as "Madea".

FATNESS, FAT SUITS AND BLACK ENTERTAINMENT
Let’s Talk Fat Suits!
Cut by: Davita Cuttita

To make a long story short, Davita doesn’t like being told what to do but loves suggestions and constructive criticism. She loves it so much so, that in the past she’s addressed the concerns of commenters by writing posts discussing issues they may be struggling with/have mentioned in passing. Since the last outcome was so good, it’s high-time for a repetition, no?

Today, as per request, I am going to talk about fat suits, the Black people who wear them and discuss some items in a Coloured context. I want to be fair to my fat readers of Colour now and call shenanigans on the at least one person who isn’t so nice about their existence (White readers, pay attention! You’re included too!).

I know that a lot of Fat People find the fat suit to be offensive. A comment I received said that some fat people liken it unto “Blackface”. I know that sometimes, race vs fat comparisons aren’t ill-intentioned and are sometimes used to help other POC understand fat circumstances so I don’t get offended and try to explain. This was just one of those comments.

In response, I have to say I disagree as I wish to be sensitive to my fat and Black readers as well as to other POC by, once again; refusing to compare race and fatness. Let me create a 100% made-up-by-me example to help illustrate the point: What would a fat Black person find worse? Someone throwing a brick through their window labelled “Fatty! Lose some weight, tank ass!” or “Big-lipped Nigger! Go back to Africa!”

DON’T ANSWER THAT QUESTION.

Nor should you (have to). It is difficult and stressful. It’s a tight, uncomfortable spot in question or even in statement form. I believe you have enough shit to deal with already and by making you “weigh” which is more devastating is kinda…not very considerate and a little insensitive. And just to be fair, as a thin person of Colour, I wouldn’t ask you any “race vs fat” type questions either. You don’t have to worry about those things here, OK? Cool.

In regards to the fat suit, a lot of entertainers use it as a way to garner laughs like Weird Al Yankovic and Eddie Murphy amongst others.

OK now if you thought Tyler Perry’s name was going to be on that list, he isn’t and I’ll explain why further into this post.

Let’s start with Murphy’s portrayals:

In the 1996 film The Nutty Professor, Eddie Murphy stars as Sherman Klump, a brilliant scientist/University professor who (according to the film) weighs approximately 400 pounds. He has low self-confidence, is treated like shit by his employer, laughed at by his students and it’s pretty established by the movie’s plot that the whole reason he’s a loser is because he’s fat. (Ho-hum, the bullshit-o-metre just broke.) Anyway, spoilers ahead in blue:

Sherman falls madly in love with his new co-worker, petite and pretty Carla (Jada Pinkett Smith) who is the only person other than his family to treat him like an actual person. Unbeknownst to many, Sherman has made a break-through creating a “miracle formula” for instant weight-loss that he tests on himself. It works instantly, creating a svelte Sherman in a matter of seconds and he creates a different persona with more confidence and sex-appeal. Eventually, this new persona “splits” apart from Sherman’s conscious and becomes an entity of its own that is ego-maniacal, rude and pig-headed alienates Carla from Sherman. In the end, Sherman does battle with himself and decides to stay his fat self and strut, the characters all grow a little, fat people in the audience are either satisfied slightly or have died a little on the inside from watching an over exaggeration of almost every fat stereotype known to man played out for laughs and nothing more.

For my non-fat homies out there who may not notice the insults, lemme point some out for ya:
• His ass is too big to fit into chairs
• His weight makes him clumsy and sloppy (knocks things over with his belly, etc)
• He eats tons of fatty food to drown out his sorrows (no, not all fat people do this and for the people who do of every size; chances are they may be suffering from a compulsive eating disorder and if not—what’s wrong with eating food as a pick me up?)
• He has NO SELF CONFIDENCE WHATSOEVER

This isn’t the first time Murphy has done this either. When I saw the movie poster and trailers for Norbit all I could think was “Dear Jesus, no!”. I’m not even gonna fully explain the plot. It’s just about a skinny, Black guy, married to a loud, Black fat chick. He is actually in love with a super-skinny Black chick and trying to work up the confidence to get away from the fat one to her.

In a nutshell:

Fat Black lady=loud, ugly, aggressive & Skinny Black Lady= pretty, sweet, bubbly.

I’ll just put up this picture of his character Rasputia, and if you click it you’ll be re-directed to the wiki article:

Eddie Murphy in a fatsuit as "Rasputia" in the film "Norbit"

Watching this movie with my Mom at home (my family found it hilarious while I just complained the ENTIRE time about EVERYTHING) and watching that character run around screaming and yelling I was like “Fuck, that’s not even a fucking human being. He’s playing a monster.” I wonder how many people walked outta the theatre without even giving that sentence a second thought….

It was just too much. I couldn’t sit through it, I don’t even remember what I did I just went someplace (the basement?) and came back near the end…

A fucking monster, ya’ll.

If you replaced Rasputia with Godzilla, it would’ve been the same damn movie; I swear.

This character just ran around screaming, yelling, being annoying and breaking things with her weight the entire time (like Godzilla). I wanted to kill her. Not because she was fat but because she just didn’t shut the fuck up with the screaming, over-the-top ign’ant hoodrat attitude (which DOES exist, but how comes it’s always the fat sistas?) and the “Don’t blame God if you’re skinny and I’m big and beautiful!” line.

Like…do people run that shit anymore? It’s so passé.

I like Eddie Murphy. He can do better. But he doesn’t.

What does this say about fat people? Also, what does this say about fat Black women? Or even with Klump, fat Black men?

It says they ain’t shit.

I’m not even fat and my heart sank writing that line, but as usual, I gotta call shit out when I see it and this is what it’s saying clear as day. OK, well Sherman’s circumstance had a bit of “be happy with who you are!” lip-service (although that doesn’t excuse the whole thing) but the latter was just a shitstorm of fatphobia. I can’t even talk about it anymore, next paragraph!!

As you can see, these characters portrayed by Murphy in a fat suit have little if nothing positive to say. It’s just “Oh, they’re fat, loud, annoying losers! Let’s laugh!”

Dehumanizing, stereotyping, garbage.

Mr. Perry, however does not do this.

Looking at the character of Madea (a name derived from the Southern term “Madear”, a short-form for “Mother Dear”) we see something completely different. The fatness is not overwhelmingly excessive so people point all like “WHAT’S THAT!?!?” and laugh or treat it like a side-show abnormality, it is reflective of her years and womanhood: she is 73 years old and has had (and adopted) children. In Perry’s films, we’re not given gratuitous close-up, “headless fatty”-esque camera shots of Madea trying to squeeze her ass into a chair, “waddling” around, or breaking shit with her weight. Her weight is never used as something for people to laugh at and watching films such as Madea’s Family Reunion we see other Black females in her age group with similar if not slightly larger (or smaller) figures. Never during these films is her fatness or the fatness of others used to garner jokes and Madea embodies none of the stereotypes so prevalent in Murphy’s portrayals.

She is not some unconfident loser or screaming fool, Madea acts as a manifestation of the others characters’ consciences and a guiding voice of reason. We laugh because Madea encourages women not to take (further) physical abuse from their husbands by “heating up a pan of grits and throwing it on him”. We laugh because if someone tries to harm her family, she pulls a gun out of her purse and starts yelling so much gangsta lines that 50 would piss himself. We laugh because when the law fails her loved one in a divorce in which she should’ve rightfully received half, Madea goes over there with a chain saw and begins sawing the furniture into equal parts.

Another very interesting component is that Madea (in my opinion) is a destroying a very hurtful stereotype to Blacks: the stereotype of “the Mammy”.

Still enjoy Aunt Jemima products?

On the website of the Jim Crowe museum, in a brief essay Dr. David Pilgram of Ferris State University describes that stereotype as such:

“…the mammy caricature, and, like all caricatures, it contained a little truth surrounded by a larger lie. The caricature portrayed an obese, coarse, maternal figure. She had great love for her white “family,” but often treated her own family with disdain. Although she had children, sometimes many, she was completely desexualized. She “belonged” to the white family, though it was rarely stated… The mammy caricature was deliberately constructed to suggest ugliness. Mammy was portrayed as dark-skinned, often pitch black, in a society that regarded black skin as ugly, tainted. She was obese, sometimes morbidly overweight. Moreover, she was often portrayed as old, or at least middle-aged. The attempt was to desexualize mammy. The implicit assumption was this: No reasonable white man would choose a fat, elderly black woman instead of the idealized white woman. The mammy caricature implied that black women were only fit to be domestic workers….”

Perry took the Mammy and replaced her with something else: a human being (Madea is actually based off of his mother and aunt). Mammy is no longer a complacent, self-hating, desexualized (Madea talks sex quite a bit!) human being. She is armed not only with physical protection of her family (the gun) from harm but she is also armed with wisdom, patience and a moral compass. She wants her family, especially her daughters; to become educated, be confidence and believe in themselves, stand-up for themselves and not take abuse from anybody. Her loyalty lies with all and any who need her. She is a human being with goals, good-intentions, wants and feelings.

Through the character of Madea, there is no more Mammy. The stereotype is laid to waste through Perry’s ingenenious deconstruction of giving Mammy her humanity and rights. He destroyed Mammy and left a Black woman in her place.

A fat, Black woman who is confident, wise, funny and doesn’t take shit from nobody. Her fatness is not for jokes—she’s fat because, hey; aging and childbirth does that to some women.

Some may argue that Perry should’ve gotten an actual fat Black actress to play the role but I think a man taking the Mammy caricature and breaking it down before your eyes with a wry old-lady voice in Grandma clothing kind of serves to help you realize how ridiculous the concept of the Mammy was to begin with.

Plus I think Perry just really loves his Mom and Aunt and didn’t think anyone else could capture their essence as respectfully as he did (Margaret Cho also uses this comedic device when she plays her own Mom sometimes during comic acts).

I think with certain circumstances, you can intelligently and responsibly handle certain issues with respect to the people of that group and expose a greater truth.

You don’t compare struggles; you just make the lies more visible then take the truth and run with it.

We see the stereotype of the Black “nigger” brute super-imposed onto White neo-Nazi Deryl Vinyard (Edward Norton) in the brilliant film American History X, deconstructed, criticized and used to expose the horrors of neo-Nazism and racist dogma (I might upload my essay covering this at a Iater date).

I saw Robert Downey Jr. as a White-turned-Black man conversing in a gruff voice about “his people’s struggles”, with an actual Black man who constantly gets offended and “calls him out” on his “argument borrowing” (there it is again people!) in Tropic Thunder and I still can’t stop laughing.

I’ll probably write about it when I do, but that’s gonna take a while!

Race vs.Fat=Nope

A lot of things have been happening with this post, as it goes in many directions. This is my attempt to keep it in the direction it belongs: positive. Below, you will also find great comments by readers of this article. I have posted this in the comments on BFB but I also felt it appropriate to place it here.

“Sad, Sad, Sad”.

Hello Everyone, I’m still reading comments on here about what I wrote and responding as best as I can (although no one seems to be paying me much mind, hehe) and I must say I’m a little saddened.

Please stop pointing fingers at one another with the whole “I’m not a racist! YOU’RE a racist!” and “Well, I CAN’T POSSIBLY be a part of White privilege! Only {adjective} White people are!” or “Well, I DESERVE a pat on the back because I’ve been good enough to {verb} for Coloured People!!”

My post was never about you. Nor was it about me.

It’s not about congratulating anyone. A common rule-of-thumb posted or mentioned on many POC sites is that the good people won’t ask for/think they deserve for pats on the back for their actions because their goodness is glory enough. The good people won’t feel offended or take things personally because they know they are good people and have done nothing wrong. The good people only listen and ask questions. The good people try to understand and admit what they cannot. The good people write constructive criticism. The good people get together and try to make positive change.

My post was about an issue important to people of Colour:

Ignorant people hijacking our suffering and history.

People who will never fully know, experience or understand it. Incidences such as the one I spoke of are, thus far, minimal in the FA community but I felt the need to speak about it anyway in my multiracial space of PDDP because as someone who believes in the FA movement, as someone who was improved by it; knowing I didn’t have to diet myself to death and fat people weren’t monsters, I wanted to give back and expose those people who serve to jeaprodize it’s future and its expansion.

I told Paul in my open letter that I thought BFB was a positive space. I still stand by my words. Please, instead of arguing and pointing fingers, listen to one another. I’ve read through the comments and very few POC responded; and those who did, were in congruence with all of my article’s points.

But…almost no one said anything to them or even asked them any questions. Instead, some of you chose to argue with one another, puffing out your chests in a “holier than thou” match to see who was more “tolerant” of people of Colour. Tell me, where are those few Coloured commentators now?

They have long since fled.

That, my dear friends, is a great loss. Some of you have, through your words, disapproved the very things you were trying so hard to validate.

I still believe in you, dear reader. Fat, slim, average, Black, White, Latino, Indian, Mixed, gay, straight, bi–whatever you may be. Even if you do not change or choose to disagree with me, I am glad you took the time to read what I had to say.

I believe in you, dear reader, who took the time to ask me questions or even took the time to enter POC circles on the web and engage in constructive dialogue, buy a book on our topics or even talked to a Coloured person you know about racial issues. I thank again those of you who sought clarification; rather than labelling me or writing passive-aggressive comments designed to make me shut up or rebuke my statement.

I hope you all continue to read, question and learn.

Thank you.

Also, I would like to direct all of you to some SPECTACULAR comments by fellow readers, on and off of PDDP. Hope is a wonderful thing!!!

From Holli:

“This is probably the best rebuttal to the whole fat bigotry is just like racism argument that I’ve read. You don’t come off as trying to play the victim Olympics - you just don’t want people to usurp your experience for their cause. Which makes perfect sense to me.

I think the reason that the whole “Fat is the last acceptable prejudice” gets used at all is because many people believe that, while there are racists still in the world, the “good”, “educated” folks aren’t and that these same folks, who would never dream of calling someone a racial slur, seem to be the first ones to indulge in fat hatred.

It’s an interesting idea and may be true in some cases but, thinking everything over, no. There are enough things to consider about FA and fat hatred and the dangers that fat people can face without comparing it to racism. We can model our efforts on the efforts made by the leaders in the Civil Rights movement but to do more than that seems dishonest.”

From Anonymous:

“While thinking about this whole thing today, something occurred to me. It’s something that’s pretty damn obvious, and really shouldn’t be all that much of a lightbulb over my head, but it is: I am a fat white woman in a mostly-black part of town, and when I see the reactions I get from the men and women in my area, they are responding to me as a fat white woman. I cannot interpret that as how they would treat a fat black woman, or a fat Asian woman, or a fat woman of any other color than white. My own experiences with being a fat white woman in a predominantly black neighborhood cannot be translated across color lines.

I’m not saying this because I think I should get a pat on the back for (finally?) realizing the obvious. I’m saying it because I wanted to thank you for making me think in such a way that I learned something that I think is important.”

From jayinchicago:

“I’m not exactly sure what is meant by the comment added to this link, but I know that I have said stupid shit like “fatphobia is the last socially acceptable prejudice!” which just goes to show my own white privilege. There is no shortage of systemic oppression based on other characteristics as well.

I’m not sure if that comment was made in jest, but pointing out the oblivious racism of a bunch of white people is hardly a pissing match.”

From tarashui:

“I think it was pretty clear that she was directing her anger at the white FA bloggers who engage in that behavior. And I feel like it was dismissive of you to call this very real problem a “nasty rumor.”

Given that it is not a small minority of white FA bloggers and blog readers/commenters who engage in this behavior, it is a very real problem that results in anger, frustration, and further marginalization of fat POC voices.”

By onceupon:

“Defensiveness makes sense to me - denying the reality of other people’s lived experience because of that defensiveness really doesn’t.

I didn’t comment in blogs written by people of color for a long time because, when they would write about “white people”, my initial response was always “but I am not like that” - which is all well and good on a personal level but on a cultural level? What I am or am not like is not important. I don’t stand for the rest of white people any more than one FA blogger stands for the whole of FA or one black person stands for the whole of black people or any other thing, you know? I had to train myself to think in terms of cultural references - “white people” as a culture throughout history have done some heinous shit to people of color, whatever that color happens to be. That has added up to our culture right now.

And, you know, this isn’t about “white man’s burden” - which is a dismissive bullshit argument if ever I have heard one - but it IS about taking the time to realize that YES we do benefit from white privilege. Suck it up and accept it, people. It isn’t about your individual hardship - your shitty life does not negate the cultural trend.

Uppity ethnics? THE HELL? I’m not sure where you are reading that acknowledging the specifics of this problem - race and fat intersect and people are pissed off because it is not being addressed or is actively being dismissed - equals denying other problems that are just as much about privilege.”

A lot of the comments were great, others not so much. ‘Tis the World! I thank all the positive commentators and scuffmcgruff needs to come get crunktastical and fanatical with GD and I over a cup of coffee one of these days.

From scuffmcgruff:

“Let’s see.

Well, when I turn on the TV and newspapers, the first thing I see about Black people? No Black people. Actually, wait. If there’s someone committing a crime, then like magic, here they are! Black people are stereotypes, usually negative ones, over and over, without cease. Do you not notice?

I see the idea that to be a beautiful Black woman, you have to look White, that being and actually looking how you’re supposed to look is ugly and unacceptable.

I see the idea that we are less valuable as humans and that our contributions to society are worthless.

I see the idea that “acting Black” means acting like an ignorant fool and “acting White” means being educated and cultured.

I see White corporations sponsoring hateful rap which are painted as representations of hip hop and African American culture.

I see no role models. You could argue the same for fat people, but at least fat white people can turn on the TV and easily see other White people in prominent, respectable positions. Black people, fat or thin, have no such luck. This lack of representation has a disastrous effect on our community.

I see a certain White owned and operated channel spewing nothing but the idea that Black people are violent, misogynistic, and greedy. For many people across America, this is the *only* representation they see, and the repercussions of this are staggering.

Advertisements for skin whitening products are getting more popular. If you’d like to have an idea of the kind of self loathing that engenders, I’d be happy to tell you, but use your imagination.

I saw the editor of Glamour magazine talking about how natural Black hair is “unprofessional” and unacceptable.

But, hey, you know, these things are buried *so deep* that no reasonable person could see any of this racism.

I almost wish that instead of just the media just showing that Black people are stupid criminals, they’d just say it. At least that way I wouldn’t have to point it out to White people and list how and why there are still examples of blatant racism in the media. *Sigh*.

It’s almost as if no one would be convinced that racism is still acceptable and promoted in the media until someone makes it explicit and obvious. Actually, it *is* pretty obvious to me, and it makes me so sad that it’s seen as “subtle” to other people? Are. You. Serious. […}”

THANKS AGAIN TO ALL SUPPORTIVE READERS AND COMMENTATORS!!

DAVITA AND GRANDPA DINOSAUR WILL BE *CONSPIRING THIS WEEKEND IN THE CITY OF TORONTO. PERHAPS WE MIGHT VISIT OUR OLD GHETTO!! PDDP WILL RETURN TO IT’S REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING ON MONDAY. HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND!

(*conspiring=running around with comics, drinking heavily, eating lots and being young girls having fun)

Crying Out Loud

Crying Out Loud
So I was Trying to Do the Right Thing When…
Cut by: Davita Cuttita

(NOTE: If you have not done so already, check out Paul’s response to my article, he’s great!)

Welcome Everyone! One and all.

So, you regular lover-la-dahs might notice that we have a lot of guests lately. Extend a friendly handshake, smile and do not forget to wear protection!

As of recent, I wrote the article “Race vs. Fat=NO!” in an attempt to bring to light the small problem I see of White fat people appropriating the struggles of Blacks and other ethnic groups as their own. Here at PDDP, Grandpa Dinosaur and I have called shit out on numerous people.

We’ve called shit out on Thin Privilege, Racists, Thin People Who Think They’re Better Than Everybody, “Fake” Feminists, People Who Think Internalized Racism Doesn’t Exist in the Coloured Community, Poverty in First World Countries, Feminists Who Ignore Race, Racism in the Media, Men Who Pressure Women Into Sex, The Canadian Education System, Women/Men Who Are Too Hard on Themselves, White People Who Ignore Coloured People’s Concerns, and of course, even Our Own Cultures.

Looking back at our track sheet thus far, I believe it’s quite clear that we both suffer from Acute Malcolm X Syndrome (or AMXS) which gives one a maddening taste for justice, an abrasive, can-do attitude and compels one to constantly have the urge to set fire to the Master’s house. The last stage is…*swallows hard*…seeking out like-minded individuals, spraking constructive dialogues and trying to achieve justice by any means necessary.

There is no cure (but Justice).

I decided it was time to call shennanigans on (the few) People in the Fat Community Who Appropriate the Coloured Experience whilst having little, to no regard for Coloured People at all.

The reason why I wrote the article was to expose the few individuals in the Fatosphere who love Fat Acceptance but use Coloured experiences to exhalt themselves and their causes. I said this was hurtful not only because as a White person, they can never be Black, Asian, Hispanic, Indian, etc and share in the experience of what that means but because that appropriation works both ways: if you say two things are the same, all of the good and bad characteristics as well as the positive and negative connotations either stemming from them and their history or placed upon them by society (or both) become intertwined.

This, in turn, creates a very slippery slope for White people, is alienating and disrespectful to Coloured People and is just an unnecessary mess.

Furthermore, it only highlights the White Privilege of those who do this—they believe they can just do and take whatever they want from any ethnicity and not suffer any consequences. These individuals feel as though they can say whatever they want about Coloured People, our feelings and our experiences while we cannot speak for ourselves.

In short, I thought people like these were two things:

1.) Racists or Incredibly ignorant and uncaring people hiding in a movement that is working hard to promote equality.

2.) Assholes.

I like Fat Acceptance and decided I would not tolerate “ticks” in it’s skin. I decided I was going to expose them by breaking out the greatest poison to ignorance: the Truth. I wanted to say to the Fat Community, “Hey, if you see someone saying this they’re being insensitive and bigoted!”

Anyway, I wrote the article, it sat here for a few days, well read by many of you until Grandpa Dinosaur and I began collaborating on a new post until suddenly PEOPLE GOT UP IN ARMS.

Now, as you all know I LOVE when people get up and go “Hey! That’s wrong! You’re wrong!” and decide to do something about it. But this time some people didn’t seem to be mad at what I was talking about, or even the fact that POC still struggle with racism everyday (I guess that’s the norm for us, huh? *sighs* 700 years and still going strong!).

They just seemed mad that I was saying it/mad at me for saying it/mad at how I said it. I can understand the third one but the other two?

To all those people, I only have one thing to say. *ahem* Ready?

“OK!”

And that’s all I’m going to say to them. Moving forward!

I read as many comments as I could on BFB, some were great, some were spectacular and understanding, some were confused and angry, some just angry and others just reaked of good ol’ fashioned White Privilege.

So…what did I do?

I did some mental masticating then tweaked the post for clarity for those who had trouble understanding and sincerely seemed to want to understand. I also did a little damage control here and there with a letter to BFB founder Paul and responded to any PDDP commentary post-haste.

Afterwards, a few people still felt inclined to argue with me (I didn’t start it, I swear!) or paint me as a villian. That’s fine, happens to everybody. Just another fine day on planet Earth!

Other people though, were quite inspirational and sensational. I couldn’t believe such good, understanding people existed because if there was more of them…PDDP wouldn’t exist anymore because we wouldn’t need to be waving this flag with “S.O.S” scrawled on it in blood. We wouldn’t be here trying to throw rocks onto the sun.

But we’re here. And I love it. And Grandpa Dinosaur loves it. Ya know what else dear reader?

WE LOVE YOU TOO!

I was so happy to see people saying “Yes, this is a problem” and “Yes, I have done this before and I will not do it again” and “I don’t understand Coloured peoples’ anger, but this helps”.

People who wanted to TALK. People who LISTENED. People who wanted to UNDERSTAND. People who wanted to CHANGE.

I’m no Malcolm X, not even by an iota, but those positive comments and THE QUESTIONS the magnificent, wonderful QUESTIONS and the people who ENJOYED our humour and respected our need to be abrasive, our need to administer some tough love to our fellow humanity just like…BLEW UP THE MOON for me, they were amazing. (Sidenote: I’m sure if the moon blew up things would be bad but it’d look cool!)

I haven’t felt so encouraged in so long and I would like to thank Paul of BFB and his readers again and I highly, highly, encourage you, reading lover-la-dah, to check them out. We talked so now it’s our turn to listen and learn!

I would also like to thank the supporters of PDDP and all others who may be suffering from AMXS.

In celebration of this event, I’ve dug up all the “perps” we’ve nabbed and have also listed those nabbed by others.

Brothers and Sisters of all creeds, Colours, sizes, nations, faiths, sex and sexual orientation: KEEP FIGHTING!

I now, humbly present to you the very first edition of:

“You Can Run, but You Can’t Hide! (We See You Creepin’!)”

AROUND THE WEB…
“The Helplessness of White People” by Resistance of Resist Racism!
“Is White Privilege Real?”–ask Resistance! in the post “On Privilege”
“Stuff White People Do: Rarely Count Their Racial Blessings” by Macon D of Stuff White People Do
“On Being Fat and White” by Leslie of Fatshionista!
“White Women Who Don’t Get Racism” by Leslie of Racism Review
“White Privilege: It’s Everywhere I am Not” by Blackgirlinmaine from her blog

AROUND PDDP…
“Disconnect: Communicating With White People” by GD
“Eurocentric Eunce-Eunce: Afrocentric and Eurocentric Schools” by GD
“The Person You Protect” by GD
“My Female Erection in Virgin Space: Intro” by GD
“Thin Privilege, Please Don’t Eat Me!” by DC
“Why Romance Must Die!” by DC
“All Nine Billion, Bajillion Calories” by DC
“The Body Police!” by DC

A Deviation

Well, very few of ya’ll know that I have an obsession with writing.

So when I’m not blogging with Grandpa Dinosaur or generally being awesome I tend to write things.

A friend of mine suggested writing the first things that come to my head and I’ve done just that. THANKS FRIEND!!

And now, for your weekend fluff pleasure, I present:

I Would Never Write Anything Sad
Cut by: Davita Cuttita

I always promised myself that I would never write anything sad.

When I write, I want to give hope to people, educate people—make them laugh, make them think, make them wonder, invite them to dream, debate and discuss.

I’ve broken that promise quite a few times but I’ve never apologized for it because within sadness is much truth which I think, is worth more than anything.
So I continue to write half-finished stories, half-truths and I continue to live life in full sadness and honesty.

The desk, the chair, the paper, thirty-two point five hours a week, dancing hard hand to mouth and never, ever having enough. My mother is a work-horse and so was her mother and I, being my mother’s daughter, follow in her footsteps; cursing the dust all the way. I work to survive and am never satisfied by the fruits of my labour and am constantly bamboozled, just as my Grandfather was.

I think about the forgotten children who are sick and hungry. I think about the people who cannot walk. I think about the people with more money than they know what to do with, then I think about what more I can do remembering to run down the “who, what, when, where, why” and “how” like in seventh grade.

Sometimes I am overcome by great emotion, an oddity I’ve nothing but hatred for.
I do my best to stay on auto-pilot, flying through the stars and galaxies, mesmerized by the thought that someday, the sun will rise while I eat my black holes in milky way. Someday, the sun will rise and instead of emotion, I will be overcome by warmth and joy.

Will I still feel hatred or will I feel an insatiable avarice?

Anxiety is a pain in the chest that I’ve had for years. If you ignore it, it only gets worse so one must sit down and breathe or have a drink of water. I prefer to go to sleep because that is the only time the world turns off. I either dream of nothingness or I wake up and can’t remember anything at all which the same as dreaming of nothingness anyway. A lot of the time, I just can’t sleep and ask God why.

Why?

I imagine a tear duct looks like hollow string that is very clear and glistens in light. In a kitchen filled with sunlight and clean dishes, counters, sinks and windows, I reach into the corners of my eyes and pull them out whilst coughing terribly as blood lubricates their exit route. I feel no pain. I examine them for a brief moment in the light as they shine like diamonds, casting tiny ghost-worm shadows across my face. I flush one down the sink, the other down the toilet and sit on the floor. In a trance. With a heavy heart, fingers, chest and hands.

The sun never stops shining and I forget to ask God why.

Well…that’s enough. Have a nice weekend!

Fat vs. Race=NO!

MORE PROOF FAT PEOPLE CAN BE ABSOLUTELY AMAZING: Paul over at BFB has responded to this post! Please go over there and see what he has to say! (link).

Fat vs. Race=NO!
Cut by: Davita Cuttita

**UPDATE O8/13/2008: In light of recent events, the article has been revamped for excellence! I welcome all new readers and encourage ya’ll to take a look around.**

**UPDATE 08/13/2008: We’ve been linked over Big Fat Blog! Yay! Unfortunately, it is not a super-joyous thing at the moment but hopefully that changes. Here’s my letter to Paul clearing up this sticky situation**:

Hi Paul,

This is Davita Cuttita of the blog Pregnant Drug-Dealing Prostitutes. You’ve linked me and I have a couple of things to say.

First off: I’ve been reading BFB for about a year now and I like it very much. So much so, I had the link posted on PDDP from the very start. I’m not fat (however my lovely co-writer and best friend is) but I do not see that as an excuse not care about fat people’s feelings, rights and struggles. BFB is a very positive space.

If you took a moment to browse around on PDDP, you would’ve seen that I have written numerous articles detailing my outrage of how poorly fat people are treated and perceived as well as my personal attempts to try and bring about positive change and my encouragement to fat men and women everywhere to continue being confident, beautiful and keep living life to the fullest. These articles/the blog have also been linked to on other sites around the fatosphere (The Rotund, The F-Word.org, etc) for my efforts.

As you can imagine, I was extremely honoured you found me but my joy diminished somewhat as I began to read the commentary.

As a young Black woman, I was absolutely offended by you calling my argument a “pissing match” and telling me to “stop it”. The tone was hurtful, as to say that I was only a child that didn’t know what she was talking about. My concerns were nothing but hot air.

Obviously, what I was discussing is not a rumour. Some people of size do compare the struggles of race and fatness and see them as the same thing.

The point of my article was to say that this is wrong not because the person doing so may be fat but because typically, the person doing so is White and for a White person to tell POC what they are feeling and experiencing rather than listening to their valid concerns and acknowledging the fact they will never truly understand the stigma behind race and it’s implications is offensive, scary and yes; even sad.

Just because you have not seen this argument in the fatosphere, it doesn’t mean that it is non-existent, nor is it any attempt on my part or anyone elses’ to be mean-spirited if we POC choose to discuss it. Because I am Black, I will perceive many things differently from you and images/comments I find offensive may go right over your head. For example, many participants of the fatosphere will agree that the “headless fatties” image on the news is offensive (it is!) but most people don’t see a problem with these images at all or even more inclined to be sizeist because of them.

Oftentimes, whenever POC talk about issues that they have experienced or are having trouble with, it is quick to be dismissed and misconstrued outside of POC circles by Whites(”pissing match” thing again). Once again, this is because our perceptions of reality are different since society has and continues to oppresses us in different ways. Therefore, I am quite understanding of circumstances such as these, where people do not entirely understand what I am trying to say or blow things out of proportion (or even way off topic). At the end of my post, I invited anyone who read to discuss and help me understand this stance of “borrowing” arguments more. Rather, you labelled me, dismissed me, and treated a serious issue to POC as nothing more than a minor annoyance. Hot air.

I absolutely do not believe that you are a racist and I do believe that you do excellent work on this site but am I sure we can both agree that misunderstandings between different groups do happen. It is inevitable in the quest for justice and equality. I would still like to extend my invitation to you and your readers once again to open their minds for a moment to the concerns of POC and engage with myself (or others on the net) about racial issues, if they so choose to do so. If you’ve any questions or comments I or my co-writer would be more than happy to discuss them.

I really and truly do believe we can make a difference and I will continue to be an avid, admiring reader of BFB.

Thank you,

Davita Cuttita

Hey Everybodies!

Regular peoples, skinny peoples, fat peoples. Homies and Homiettes.

Davita has been reading around the precious fatosphere lately and she is not pleased.

Not at all.

Turn me up now cuz Imma break it down like James Brown.

WHY THE RACE VS FAT ARGUMENT IS BULLSHIT:

• Never, in the history of forever, has a populous been enslaved because they were fat
• Never, in the history of forever, has a populous been removed from their homes, sent to another country, whipped, maimed, or beaten to death because they were fat
• Fat people were never regularly beaten to death by a mob, hung till dead, then had their corpse made a public spectacle of and mocked *only* because they were fat
• There has never been a government sanctioned effort to rid the entire world of fat people via genocide
• Extinct tribes of Natives and Blacks were not made so because they were fat
• Police will not respond slower to your emergency phone call (ex: people shooting outside your door) because you are fat. I know—I grew up in an area like this for 10 years.
• You are not more likely to be arrested for absolutely nothing because you are fat

Let’s go into a little more detail…

Fatness is caused by one or more factors:

a.) Genetics
b.) Medical Condition
c.) Diet
d.) Lifestyle

And that’s that.

I am Black because of only one factor: Chocolate. Pounds and pounds of delicious chocolate.

OKAY, OKAY!! Genetics.

Now, for you to imply that somehow, my blackness is related to fatness opens up the floor for some very severe and complicated things: it refelects onto me, the exact same baseless arguments the fat community has to deal with on a daily basis from the rest of society. I know some people had trouble with how I explained it with my original post, so I’m going to try to make myself more clear.

If you borrow an argument or the experiences of another group, claiming they are the same and using those things to bolster yourself, IT IS NOT A ONE WAY THING. You cannot just take the “glory of the struggle” and apply it to yourself because once you say two different things are the same, you are also transferring the negative connotations of your group onto the other.

For example; a negative connotation of fatness is that is it a medical condition in need of “curing” through diet and exercise. When you say fatness and being Coloured are the same and their stigmas are the same, you are also subtly saying that we are in need of “curing”. You are also saying that if we made changes to our lifestlyes we could somehow be “less than” we already are.

Some fat people are born to be fat and that is fine. Others are fat because of [insert cause] and have the option to change. I do not believe for a second that they should be forced, pressured, villianized or maginalized to change but my point is that they have an option.

As a Black girl, I have no options but to be a Black girl and if I am somehow not “Black” enough, other members of my race will marginalize me for being “Whitewashed”. I will never have an option BUT to fight the victimhood of my Blackness.

Not only am I Black, I am mixed: My ancestry is Black, Syrian (Jewish) and Scottish with traces of Indian and Chinese. There are Black people who will not accept me because of my “dirty” blood but there are racist White people who will not accept me either.

And that’s OK. I’m not here to make friends with everybody and the world wasn’t made to agree with me or accept me, but I better damn well have my rights.

Even worse, this implication of “lessening” stands with the stereotype that my blackness is only my skin and nothing more. It is only a physical trait. Well, no. It’s a part of who I am too and I will live my entire life and die this way.

I can’t be “less” Davita than I already am and Grandpa Dinosaur can’t be less Asian and fat than she already is and so on. A person’s weight fluctuates between 5 and 10 pounds a day. It can also change from a number of other environmental, surgical (ugh!), dietary and lifestlye factors. Nobody knows 100% for sure that they will be fat the rest of their lives. Some people start skinny and get fat, others are vice-versa and many of our “dieting friends” spend their entire lives yo-yoing; dipping their feet in and out of the pot of thin priviledge.

Racial identity kinda…doesn’t do that shit.

You, fat White homie, will never know what it is like to be Black, Asian, Hispanic, Mixed, Native, Indian, etc (unless you’re this guy). Nor will your non-fat counterparts. AND THAT IS FINE, no one is holding that against you, but please do not hijack our arguments and appropriate them to your fatness because race and fat are not the same.

You will never share in the consequences of the drama, anxiety, the hundreds of years of hatred, segregation, slavery and displacement.

The Loss. The irreversible consequences.

There is no shame in that, and no one is blaming you for anything that happened hundreds of years ago. However, you should take a moment to admit yeah; you’ll never understand or experience racial stigma.

You just won’t.

You are White and the world you live in is White. We are Coloured and have to live in your world because…well, there isn’t really anything else we can do. Or any place else we can go (do I really have to post this link on Westernization?).

Accept that fact, and don’t use us as a crutch for your fat arguments. It’s insulting not because you are fat but because it shows an utter disregard and lack of respect for a group you could never fully understand, do not belong to and…c’mon! If we Coloureds have gotta make our arguments stand on their own merit, why do you get to use us as human shields? It hurts to be stigmatized, I know; but this “borrowing and appropriation” won’t make things any better and will only serve to drive people away.

If people can’t get your point, oh well. Move on. Hang around people who do get you. I get you. Grandpa Dinosaur gets you. The Fatosphere gets you.

But do not pull out the race argument because that’s just a slippery slope you can’t climb. Once again, not because you are fat but because you are White and dominant society is White and has been made to cater to White people for hundreds of years.

Fatness was (and still is in some places) adored for thousands of years. It meant you were healthy, wealthy, fertile and well-fed. I think it can still mean all those things. Only until perhaps 80–100 years ago, but more severely now, has society pressured men and women everywhere to look like stick figures.

But one’s skin colour has always been and continues to be an object of despise.

I am sure that in a Black or White neighbourhood (as a kind commentor pointed out) that a fat White woman walking down the street will be treated and regarded far more differently than a fat Black woman.

Imagine yourself standing at a podium in front of a vast audience of Coloured People with you, being the only White present. Imagine yourself telling them that your struggles as a fat person and their struggles of being called niggers, chinks, etc are the same. I, for example, as a child have had beer bottles thrown at me, been spit at, called a nigger and cursed at because of my skin colour. My father was beat half to death by police because he is biracial. My mother was kicked in the ribs and called a nigger because she was Black by a hospital patient. My brother was told “niggers shouldn’t date White girls!” in a store while shopping for baby clothes for their then, soon-to-be-born daughter because he is Black and his girlfriend is Portugese.

Would it kill anybody to get into some Coloured circles and listen? Talk to them, maybe?

Just as people say you should only write what you know, you should do the same for arguments: argue with what you know and understand, not what you think you know or understand.

So, my fat homies and homiettes, I just had to lay down the ney-no and call some of ya’ll out on your shit because that’s what Davita does.

Hey, just helping you check yoself before you wreck yoself.

Wanna say something? By all means hit up the comments or send an e-mail because I would really like to know where this mess is coming from.

Until then I’m getting educated.

LASTLY but definitely not LEASTLY, I would like to direct all of you to some absolutely stunning comments from your fellow readers.

{Sidenote: Oh, and Beth Ditto’s photo is totally shitty and pretty racist. I just don’t get it. Cards? White people always got the cards? What? OH WAIT NO–WHITE PEOPLE ALWAYS WIN? Oh no she didn’t…

Way to go with the overworked Spanish cleaning woman look, there. Too bad her glum expression doesn’t match your silver stockings. I am afraid Ms. Ditto’s gotta have a time out in my “Up With This Fuckery I Will Not Put!” file until she releases a song I can listen to more than once on my ipod.}

Laying-Off my White Friends

[DISCLAIMER: Now I got to step up and copy this is as my disclaimer. I say what I have to say or what I feel has to be said. I will always say what needs to be said, even at gun point. I am a person of great conviction. I try my best because even if I do things as planned, there might be negative consequences to whatever I have to say. My biggest regrets are things not done and battles not fought. It is not my intention to speak ill of people, but I'll try to do so without the malice of reverse racism in my heart.]

Laying-Off my White Friends
Written by Grandpa Dinosaur

There is a thin line between patience and tolerance for me, I am a VERY patient person. I will wait on someone, forgive them to an almost UNREAL Buddhist-like nature. At the same time, I’m am not a very tolerant person. I do not look kindly to injustice, I have a personal high standard and am a person of strong conviction (although I do falter and blame myself time to time). As a Ghandi quote once said, “It is better to be violent, if there is violence in our hearts, than to put on the cloak of nonviolence to cover impotence.”

These days I find it harder and harder to talk to my old White friends from high school, to the point of avoiding them completely. Either it is from being tired of being told I “start conflict” or “that I talk about racism too much.” Even if they don’t say it out loud, you can read their faces. I’m starting to see how hypocritical their way of thinking and living (dismissive as well), it’s hard for me to deal with because it’s worsening as my high school colleagues and I get older.

More than race, it’s also class that’s dividing us. I don’t have the experience of being “a child” and completed College in as close to as close to “no nonsense” as possible. I see University and College as a necessary education in order to gain skills and experience to start the career I want, where as a good portion of my friends can afford to go all the way to graduate school (or have the means to) and University and College is their sandbox to discover who they are and play around.

One of the main reasons that I’m deciding to break it off with a few of my White friends is that it’s hard because what I have to say is often played lightly or treated unreal. I have experiences similar to the ones that Davita Cuttita talks about in her Girls in the Hood. We grew up in the same apartment building only floors apart and even lived together on ocassion. I take VERY PERSONAL OFFENCE to people who say that my past is “too unreal” or that I am “making it up,” especially when I see the lives of those who were my elementary school friends. I get really mad when people say “you didn’t grow up in the Ghetto,” as if they have the intelligence and good taste to judge the final and deciding how Ghetto is Ghetto.

I’ve already said “good bye” to a few of my White “friends” and am deciding if I should lay-off some more. I know a lot of you say that that “you’re friends are really awful,” Davita Cuttita often tells me to get new friends—and I have—and also to move on. Which I am struggling, but managing to do.

The girl who I was talking about in Disconnect: Communicating with White People was really mad that I wrote about her (and her boyfriend) in this blog. The blog entry, amongst other real life things, have caused us to split apart.

All I have to say is Davita Cuttita invited her to read the blog. BUT Davita Cuttita DID ask for my permission, I almost didn’t give it—but I did. (Davita, please don’t beat me up.) I just recently invited another friend who so far, hasn’t complained and I’ve asked her to complain so it’s all good. This blog is not even for me most of the time.

This entry though, it’s for me.

I had mentioned the article and sent one my friends, who will be named Terra for privacy (and the first of my close friends that I have exposed PDDP personally to) the link later after our conversation.

It surprised me what when I mentioned it to her because she replied by saying: “didn’t she write about you too?” The article Terra was referring to was something that was written obviously about me and those like me (not racist, but still personal) and it hurt my feelings at the time, but I was pretty mature and she was entitled to her opinion about me as much as I’m entitled to an opinion about her. It’s hypocrisy otherwise.

I approach people dissing me with the flair of a Cambodian Comedian: I dance it off. I’m cool with it, I don’t expect everyone to agree with me or even like me but I want people to know where I stand and what beliefs in solidarity with. As a coloured woman, I have to be strong. Even more so as an Asian woman who is not pale skinned, slender, “beautiful,” “stylish” and single and especially in front of children.

Now I got to step up and copy this is as my disclaimer: I say what I have to say or what I feel has to be said. I will always say what needs to be said, even at gun point. I am a person of great conviction. I try my best because even if I do things as planned, there might be negative consequences to whatever I have to say. My biggest regrets are things not done and battles not fought. It is not my intention to speak ill of people, but I’ll try to do so without the malice of reverse racism in my heart.

To tell you the truth, I didn’t care about her writing about me and had completely forgotten about it until my friend had brought it up. And it wasn’t an Livejournal posts, where talking BS about your friends is normal but something (that I believe) was to be submitted to a school newspaper to go into printing circulation. (But I’m not certain.) Now you’re all thinking, “god damn you’re friends are cruel.” To tell you the truth, I was hurt but I didn’t show it. I just laughed it off as I said.

Davita Cuttita on the other hand wasn’t so forgiving as I learned later, as Davita had written another article for another school newspaper and wanted to read what my friend had written. Davita Cuttita is NOT AFRAID TO RIP ME A NEW ONE, but I welcome her face punches to improve my skills. She critiques quite heavily and asks questions. Lots of questions. Oh! And Davita Cuttita’s article was on Anti-racist Graffiti on the York University walls and the newspaper clipping that hanging on my “door of honour,” because it is Davita Cuttita’s first published in print piece.

“We made it, baby. We’re coloured and literate!” HA!

I didn’t care about the article, but at the same time, I feel a little more justified to continue to write what I am writing. Even if my own friends don’t like it and and what I have to say or what I believe. Slowly I am empowering myself to stand up and say what I have to say, without the baby talk, extra long explanation or sugar coat. More than anything, I’m starting to value my own feelings and stamp out small fires of drama before they begin. Before this blog, I didn’t know how to call out racism efficiently and now I do.

I didn’t care about the article, but at the same time, I feel a little more justified to continue to write what I am writing. Even if my own friends don’t like it and and what I have to say or what I believe. Slowly I am empowering myself to stand up and say what I have to say, without the baby talk, extra long explanation or sugar coat. More than anything, I’m starting to value my own feelings and stamp out small fires of drama before they begin. Before this blog, I didn’t know how to call out racism efficiently and now I do.

The hardest thing I ever had to do was value my own feelings, to not be invincible or strong, but to admit I had feelings. And to admit it to myself and hold myself up and say it’s okay to be sad sometimes or get mad sometimes.

Sometimes I wonder if between my White friends and I, if my feelings are important. I feel in my chest I know that my feelings are not respected, but I don’t know. I’m going to ask. It’s the deal breaker. It really is.

Deep down, I know that my friend (with the boyfriend) and I ended up breaking apart was because I had thought she was my friend and that our friendship could stand up to boyfriends and drama, but it couldn’t. She did a lot of things that hurt me, she did a lot of things that made me distrust her, she treated her boyfriend better than me after he had acted badly in my house. I couldn’t hold her accountable for anything. She said she was still mad with her boyfriend when I called her a week after, but they still spent a lot of time together and went out a lot and he was even with her while she was on the phone. She invited her boyfriend continuously to Anime Club and didn’t invite me, even though I was attending before her and we used to got together for more than a year. And she didn’t “okay” my attendance until I complained about how upset I was. She went out with her boyfriend and his friends after we hung out together for my “make-up for missing the party” birthday celebration. I couldn’t even hang out with her alone without her boyfriend throwing a fit or getting jealous. I felt that she was often talking down to me and I often couldn’t tease her without a cruel or biting reaction. We just couldn’t be friends anymore.

(Although she made me promise to give our friendship an audit when I feel less mad at her. I’m a man of my word, and I was told I shouldn’t have given her no chances considering what happened.)

I really wish she didn’t read this blog. I’m not even writing this to make her stop reading this blog, I got to get this stuff off my chest. I never have these kind of problems with my coloured friends, because they know where I come from and they value my feelings.

My distrust of White people continued to grow, but I still want to be friends with White people.

For a long time I felt extremely hated and blamed myself, but I’ve finally come to terms that I’m not a jerk for getting mad. I’m not a jerk for getting angry. I have every reason to be angry. Not just about the racist things, but about the value of my feelings.

However, I can’t be friends with people who continue to hurt my feelings and destroy my trust. I also can’t be friends who belittle who I am and my feelings.

And you know what, I’m still making friendships with White people who understand my past and treat me nicely. I’m up front about what I want and understanding in return. I’m starting to build better and greater friendships with White people based on honesty. I’m still talking about my experiences, and I know I can separate my personal life from my writings but I also have grown to learn that I shouldn’t stop myself to appease others. My feeling are important to and I finally have a place to talk about them.

I admit I get confused too and need answers. I want to ask you readers for advice, what should I do about my other White friends? Should I (bother) questioning some of my other White friends if they even care about my feelings? I can ask them frankly, but I want to know it I should. I can’t stay friends with them, if I don’t know where I stand with them. what should I do? They’re the kind of White people who are subconsciously racist and brainwashed with the usual “colour blind” and “I’m not racist if I do this” propaganda.

I can’t believe you read all of this. It’s easy to update the blog, but it’s hard to pump out stellar articles.

My next article, however, will be about beatin’ kids. You will enjoy it immensely.

CATCHING HELL

CATCHING HELL
Cut by: Davita Cuttita

At work the other day my Branch Manager and I had a two hour conversation on race.

To give some slight back-drop, it was a slow day. The people I work with are some of the most tolerant, easy-going, funniest people one can ever meet, and I’d seen everyone’s family photos.

One day as I was doing some French homework on my (personal) laptop at lunch, I showed some of mine. Long story short, my family looks like a UN meeting as a whole but most of the members are Biracial, Black or White. No, no one is adopted.

So as we were dying of boredom, he asked me what it was like to grow up in that kind of atmosphere (which I did not, I didn’t even know I had White family members until 3 years ago when my Dad located his father after being separated from him for over 30 years. My Dad didn’t know either! This shit should be on Maury). The chit-chat regarding my origins started from there until we got around to watching the following clip on “The View” as the ladies talked about the N-word:

We had some quite enriching conversation afterwards and although I disagreed with him on some things, agreed on a few and agreed to disagree on others; I’d say it was pretty reminiscent of all other conversations I’ve had with White people. We’ve highlighted a vast majority of them on the site already and we do have some homies, Black and White; who aren’t afraid to take responsibility and say shit is fucked up for People of Colour. Who aren’t afraid to resist racism.

One of the biggest arguments we had was the way by which Elisabeth and Whoopi presented their points. In my opinion, Elisabeth is a prime example of why Black people don’t talk to White people about the racial discrimination we face:

1.) 1.) They don’t listen (some don’t even care). Now: there is a difference between listening and hearing; if you don’t know what that is you probably come off as a gigantic asshole during racially based conversation.

2.) 2.) They turn racial arguments on themselves. Being ½ Polish and ½ Italian is NOT the same as being Black. We’re not talking about you—we’re talking about a Coloured issue, so shut up and listen because YOU ARE NOT COLOURED so you won’t ever understand. Let us talk and give you a 10% understanding of what it means to be Coloured and what racial issues mean to us (because that’s all we can manage since YOU AREN’T COLOURED). Instead of crying like a baby because you don’t understand, maybe you should be an adult–educate yourself and LISTEN (#1 kinda repeats itself here)

My branch manager had the argument that “Everyone has been treated badly, so what makes Black people so special?” NOW this is where Davita ran up the walls and started pounding things with her fist as she talked (did I mention I’m still being paid well for all this?).

Firstly, Black people are not a “special” circumstance and YES, many people have been treated badly. The Natives are still living in a world of extremely murky shit compared to everyone else. But if you’re expecting us to let over 500 years of prejudice go, the loss of relatives, history—you’re sadly mistaken.

Just as WWII veterans line up a few times of the year to remember all those who were lost, all those moments taken away, all that terror, blood, pain and suffering—just as they are joined by their families and their grandchildren in these remembrances that will continue long after they are gone; so do we as a Black community gather mentally, emotionally and spiritually; every day of our lives.

Our war started 500 years ago and continues today, a war for freedom and equality that (for the most part) snuck through the bushes, into our homes and dragged our ancestors away on ships. Some of them did not make it and life was hell for those who did.

No one war is more “special” than another and there have been thousands in the history of mankind, but they gather and reminisce not only to remember those who’ve been lost but to see what can be done for tomorrow to ensure these things do not repeat themselves and changes are made.

Another thing I had a major problem with was the fact that the BM felt as though Whoopi should’ve taken the Opera or Bill Cosby route and made the issue more “palatable” for the White audience and Elisabeth (who we both agreed was an absolute idiot and sounded like a small dog barking).

They say you can catch more flies with honey and I agree with that in certain circumstances, it is appropriate for us to “spoon feed” these things to the public at large but in this case?

NO. HELL TO-DA-NIZZIGGA-NO.

I stand by my man Malcolm X on this one:

“Let them know the kind of hell you’ve been catching…”

Thank you, Whoopi Goldberg, for letting the world know that we, as Black people have been catching hell for over five hundred fucking years and counting. You are my hero.

Why should racism be “palatable”? What kind of message are we sending not only as a society but to future generations when something as serious and devastating as racism should be something easy to swallow and “dumbed” down not for the masses to understand, but for WHITE PEOPLE to understand?

This sounds like house nigger rhetoric to me; this sounds racist to me.

If it’s not easy for Black people; or any other race to swallow, why should we be obligated to make it easy or even easier for anyone else?

Why do we have to swallow blood, shit and vinegar but have to translate that into milk and honey for anyone else?

Want to know about racism? I can tell you about racism.

My older brother being told, to his face; that “Niggers shouldn’t be dating white girls!” while shopping for baby clothes with his (very pregnant) Portuguese girlfriend.

Me being called a nigger as a child by White adults.

My mixed father being beat half to death for NO REASON by two police officers when I was eight years old. He went to the corner store to get milk for my sister and I’s breakfast the next morning and was walking home alone when POLICE BRUTALITY happened.

When my father took them to court, THEY won.

My mother being kicked in the ribs and spat on by a patient that called her a nigger.

My mother’s friend (who is a grandmother) was driving home last week at the speed limit from her night shift at the hospital (in her nurse’s uniform!) until she was asked to pull over. The White female officer walked up to her vehicle then PULLED HER GUN on the poor woman before asking to see her license and registration.

My mother’s co-worker depressed at work because his Black daughter was beat up so badly by two Police officers last month that she is still in the hospital and her face is now disfigured. When they took her to the hospital they told the doctors “she fell”.

THIS IS THE KIND OF HELL WE’VE BEEN CATCHING.

Look me in the face and tell me racism is not a problem.

Look me in the face and tell me Eurocentric schooling is not devastating to Coloured Children.

Look me in the face and tell me that internalized racism is not a problem.

Look me in the face and LIE.

The part that gets me as well is the fact that when I, as a Coloured person express that YES many advancements have happened but WE STILL HAVE A LONG WAY TO GO before The Dream of Dr. King can be realized, that White people (the BM in particular) have the fucking audacity to DISAGREE!!

WHAT!?!?!

Just because I can sit wherever I want on a bus, see some Blacks on TV in roles other than maids or racist comic relief, go to a non-segregated school and have a better chance of doing A LOT of things compared to as recent as 50 years ago does NOT mean that everything is OK! Of course, I am absolutely grateful for all of this but the way White people talk about it it’s as if they did us a fucking favour! They threw us a bone! How dare we complain and ask for improvements when I can sit at the front of the bus! We’re living in the same world now!!

No. We are not living in the same world and over 500 years and counting of inequality, slavery, segregation, dsicrimination, racial profiling, racism and outright genocide is NOT going to change in 60 years.

It’s just common sense—if you’ve been sick and paralyzed most of your life; you are not going to be cured in five minutes. You will have to re-learn how to walk, talk, FIGHT, feed yourself, clothe yourself, medicate yourself, educate yourself and take responsibility to ensure this sickness will never, ever hurt you again the way it did.

Let us remember that the revolution will not be televised. Let us remember that yes, there are still White people (and even other Coloured people) educating themselves on racism and how to be better people. Let us remember the millions who have fallen.

My brothers and sisters, of all colours, cultures, creeds, beliefs and sizes, let us pick up the swords of knowledge and shields of compassion and empathy; let us hold hands and going into battle, crying out against injustice and dreaming together.
Let us RISE let us FIGHT as one people out of many.

We’re “mad as hell and not going to take this anymore!”

But to those White people who are against us, who remain safe within the racist priveledge they were awarded at birth; I’ve only this to say:

White People, we Coloured People have been catching YOUR HELL.

THAT IS WHY YOUR HOUSE IS GOING TO BURN DOWN.

Good Intentions, Villainy and Fashion Sense

Written by Grandpa Dinosaur

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I look like a bad guy.

I look like I’m crazy.

I feel like I’m crazy. I feel like I’m the only one who feels certain things, maybe because I was raised with Buddhist values. Maybe because I weight myself with responsibility and accountability, considerate of the good and bad karma from each action I take.

I really don’t think I’ve done anything wrong, but I’m a radical and vigilante: “You do what you have to do.” I know I have, but I’ve done time too.

I’ve fallen, but I get back up. But at the same time, I feel like I can never get “clean” again, like a cotton cloth. Maybe because I’m choking under the double-standard of being a Cambodian Woman. Knowing that I can get stained so easily, have my reputation and value ruined in an instant. Knowing that as a Canadian-Cambodian woman, knowing I’m substandard beside a TRUE Cambodian woman, knowing I can’t change my life.

I feel weighed down. I feel like I have to do everything. I know I have to do everything. I know I have to do everything by myself. I know when people say “I’m your friend,” it’s bullshit. When the chips are down I always find myself alone. I feel like I can’t delude myself with false friendships, but I also know that living in Canada that I have to swallow a lot of poisonous bullshit as a Woman of Colour. Even when I say no, even when I stand up for myself and even when I do everything in my power I am powerless against the flow of the world.

I’m a radical, I know I walk against the current. But it’s hard.

It’s hard to say, “the way I look is beautiful, I feel beautiful” when beauty standards and (lifestyle) realities for Coloured women and White women are so different.

It’s hard to be a bad guy.

It’s hard to want better things for yourself and for the women in your community and the women in other communities and the Black children in schools. But I do what I have to do, and endure what I have to do and say what I have to say. And keep saying it.

“I am not a bad person, I am a human. I try my best, even when I fail. I will take the privilege of having a good education, having a good community, from the pockets of others and put it in my hands and say: ‘This is important to me. This is important to our community.’ We need to show other’s what is important to us, that we are humans.”

I remember when I joked around about my ideas after an Anime Convention, in saying “those of us with good intentions can hurt others, that’s why we have to have the confidence to do what we have to do but be accountable and acknowledge the reaction that our actions produce.” Because I’m Buddhist, you can’t be afraid to take a step without stepping on ants but at the same time you have to tread lightly and respect all forms of life.

And I remember my white friend commented that “Hitler thought he had good intentions,” and I remember sitting there and thinking did she just compare to Hitler? I’m doing a good thing, I’m trying to help everyone and she said what I was saying and how I was acting was similar to Hitler.

I feel like a bad guy.

In the eyes of a White person, I wonder in my intentions are “good.” I wonder if I’m ruining their “lifestyle” or “way of life.”

I look at my skin colour and realize that I’m not Chinese or Vietnamese or Japanese, those nationalities rhyme but they also tout women of pale, white skin. (Even though there are some exceptions in those cases.)

I am tan, like cinnamon, brushed lightly red like an autumn day. Almost dark enough to be like an Indian from India.

I know I look like I’m a bad guy, I look like an invader. I look like a foreigner.

But I know I’m not a bad guy. It’s hard to convince myself that I’m not bad or evil when I look around and see the world. And feel the way I’m are treated, for not “being the pale, thin, Asian beauty that touts the latest fashions” like all the other girls.

To be hated for being tan, wanting better, wanting to be accepted for being myself.

Because being human and real is bad, and being superficial is good.

Just look at the ads, your skin is never right. Nothing is right. And you don’t even use the right lotion.

I am myself, and will continue to unabashedly be myself. Because even though not being liked and being treated badly for wanting better is rough. Being hated and ugly for being who I am is unbearable.

I look like a bad guy, I’m going to tout that look my entire life. Say it’s in style. That’s right, tanned skin looks good on me and I can wear whatever the fuck I want.

I’m going to look at myself for who I am and aim to be what I want to be.

I’m not bad person, I’m hated for daring to be beautiful. And hated more for saying that it’s myself, and how dare I say that I am beautiful because it would mean that everyone in the world was lying to themselves.

I’m going to make this crazy look my fashion style for the rest of my life, the “bad guy look.” It’s a fashion statement.

It’s who I am.

THE BODY POLICE!!

THE BODY POLICE!!
Cut by: Davita Cuttita

OK.

Davita has been very, very busy but rest assured; once these French exams are over next week I’ll be back with a vengeance! (and bringing Grandpa Dinosaur with me!!)

Something in particular has been bugging me a lot today. Or…many a day, actually.

It’s people who think they should tell you what to eat.

I’ve been watching the numbers rolly-polly so I know that most of ya’ll are pretty much aware that I’m 5”7 and 130 pounds. Yeah, I run but at the same I eat mercilessly and fairly indiscriminately.

Davita has been avoiding this for ages due to camera-shyness, but to give you an idea of what EXACTLY this looks like on my frame, here’s me:

But, people still feel like they can tell me what I should or should not be eating.

My family? Nope. You should see my Dad when he brings his friends around…

“Have you seen my daughter? Have you seen my daughter? HAVE YOU SEEN MY DAUGHTER!?!?! LOOK AT HER, THIS IS MY DAUGHTER! MY FIRST GIRL, MY OLDEST DAUGHTER!!!”

(Sadly, I’m not exaggerating)

But other people do. Not in a rude way, but in a way where it’s like:

“Oh boy, I’ve gotta keep this average size girl from getting fat and becoming a burden upon the shoulders of society! I believe I’ve done my part by telling her to avoid carbs after eight o’clock!”

I guess now is a good time to mention that I’m eating dinner, for a second time; as I write this. Oh, it’s also after 8PM by nearly two hours. OOPS! WHAT’S A GIRL TO DO??! (Hey, I’m Jamaican city folk, if you try and steal my rice I will fuckin’ kill you. I’m serious.)

Now, I’m sure for fat people these comments must be the equivalent of police brutality.

CNN newsworthy police brutality.

Let us take my dear, plush, co-conspirator Grandpa Dinosaur for example.

Grandpa Dinosaur loves tea and occasionally, we may partake in a pot (of tea!). One day as we were making tea and going back upstairs to our room, her dad called out; reminding her not to drink too much tea because it would make her fatter.

Did you read that? Let me reiterate:

He said TEA would make her fat.

Hot water and dried out leaves would make her fat. (Grandpa Dinosaur rarely, if ever; drinks her tea with sugar. I’m usually loading mine up with it on the other hand.)

Because you know; if you’re fat anything you eat unless it is fresh, steamed or boiled fruit or vegetables will make you even fatter. IT’S SIMPLE SCIENCE I JUST MADE UP! It’s so easy; anybody can do it!

Most of the time when I read about body police, they seem to be lurking in offices. I don’t know why; they just are.

I LOVE my job. I LOVE working in offices because I like being meticulous and conversing banally by water coolers. So I’ve gotta take the good and the bad; just like anyone else.

But then you get these…people. Who just police everything that goes into your mouth.

You know the type, c’mon!

The ones who careen about you as you snack on something or have your lunch.

“Hey, what’s that you’re eating?”

“How many calories is in that?”

“Did you know that what you are eating contains half your daily intake of fat?”

“You’re eating that but really, you should be eating THIS”

“Hey, eat too many of those and you’ll get fat”

“Well, I can eat this because I’m going to my spin class/walk/mow the lawn/yoga tonight”

Do you know my response to all of that?

“IT’S DELICIOUS”

Really. That’s all I say.

Try it sometime! Feel bad about a slice of pizza? IT’S DELICIOUS. Want a cookie? IT’S DELICIOUS. Eating a bag of carrots? IT’S DELICIOUS. Drinking a coke? IT’S DELICIOUS.

Because bodies only crave deliciousness.

I’m going to do the opposite of the body police; I am not here to guilt-trip you or remind you to do some push-ups after that cheeseburger—or even after that bowl of steamed vegetables.

No—I am here to remind you to EAT because if you do not fill your body with the nutrience it needs you will DIE of starvation like some unfortunate supermodel.

I am here to remind you that there are people in the world who have next to nothing or nothing at all to eat so BE GRATEFUL and use this resource as best as you possibly can.

DO NOT WASTE FOOD and DO NOT WASTE TIME mentally flagellating yourself over your natural and essential instinct for SURVIVAL because THAT’S WHAT HUNGER IS.

Don’t like what I’m eating?