My man Bud here has opinions. His opinions are apparently so important and wise that he feels the need to share them in my own blog, no less. You see, Bud is doing me a favor, he is teaching me, explaining to me, how this artificial construct we call “race” is nothing but a fable. In a sense, Bud is here to liberate me from this oppressive construct. I appreciate Bud’s effort, don’t think for a second I cannot see what a huge burden Bud has on his shoulders. Imagine having to free every Person of Color of the burden of this artificially created social division, that has to be a difficult to carry. Perhaps this weight explains why Bud has the urge to unload his feelings on me. Share them, if you will, in my own space.

Bud, however, is not alone. For the past few weeks, a number of other White people have come to this space to patiently explain to me how I am a prisoner of this social construction we call “race”. There was “Wulgus”, who succinctly tried to expose the ill conceived nature of my ideas by stating “this shit it stupid as hell you moron”. Then there was Aiifa who had noble intentions in trying to dispel my ignorance regarding intersectionality. “And if I have to lay it out, we both probably just want to help you; not least because you are a fellow feminist.” I get it that it’s for my own “good”. I should also acknowledge the fact that I might be difficult and white people lose their patience with me. The commenters that called me a “bigot” in my post about heternormativity in food writing (where I specifically mentioned the most popular blog by name) have every right to be irate. It’s not that they purposefully misread and mischaracterize whatever I have to say, it’s my fault for “writing about that shit”. I suppose it is also my fault that they see words and concepts that are just not there. My writing can be too encompassing sometimes and it is easy to just read words that I do not write. I contain multitudes so why wouldn’t I also contain the pre-conceived notions of what they believe I was trying to say?

In the past couple of weeks I have also seen charges of “censorship” and “creating an echo chamber” levied at me. Specifically, during the Schwyzer debacle, I caught some comments threads on Gawker (of all places!) about how Tiger Beatdown (and other feminist blogs) foster an echo chamber environment where dissent is not allowed and “everyone has to agree” in order to have their comment published. Freedom of speech, I am told, should be held above all else. Needless to say, there is no examination of the meaning of this freedom of speech (as if I was the State incarnated undermining anyone’s rights of self expression) or its history (as if People of Color had always had this “right to speech” to begin with and, as if, People of Color weren’t still being disenfranchised in a myriad ways). The prevailing idea, which is, of course, never spelled out as such, is that white opinions deserve to occupy spaces. They deserve to be heard and somehow, not allowing those opinions, creates an echo chamber.

So now, this brings me to the final part of this rant: I don’t give a single fuck about those opinions. If someone feels strongly about anything I write, they are free to start their own blogs. Tumblr here provides a free point of entry. There are numerous other platforms that provide an equally free service. Let me repeat that: I do not give a fuck about those opinions that only seek to “put me in my place”. I know those opinions exist and I know a great deal of the world operates under their influx. However, this is me giving those opinions the middle finger. I am not here to support the status quo of whiteness and racialized misogyny. This is the only space where I allow myself to NOT COMPROMISE. This is the only space I have where I am free from the influence of those opinions. Conversely, this is the space where I can say Fuck you in their faces. Now, go take your white supremacy some place else. This IS an echo chamber. And I am in love with the sound of my own voice reverberating. If that self love bothers you, you should perhaps examine why. Still, the overall premise remains: I don’t give a fuck about your opinion.

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