Ask Me About My Racism

The Beverly Area Planning Association hosted the forum in the wake of racist graffiti that was spray-painted on several cars, garages and buildings over a two-day span beginning late Sept. 19. The Beverly Area Planning Association hosted the forum in the wake of racist graffiti that was spray-painted on several cars, garages and buildings over a two-day span beginning late Sept. 19.DNA Chicago

Now, how did I miss that?

There is nothing that tickles my fancy more than any opportunity to scratch and sniff at the scabs on my see-through- 2nd Generation Irish pelt and considering the horrible systemic racial darkness of my heart.

Me and mine are just about the most low-down, dirty, arm-pit smelling, Hairy Ape nasty, bunch of bull-whip cracking Thornbirds who ever Riverdanced poor colored folks into a Melissa Harris Perry level of righteous outrage to soil Mammy Earth's clean and wholesome gravel.

My racist comings and goings begin upon waking and leaping from my dollar stuffed pillows and mattress and shaving my white privileged mug with a straight razor no stranger to violence and blood.  My infringement upon the Souls of Black Folks begins when I pull into the driveway of a single- mother of two whose car happens to be a victim of race hatred these last three years and expect the poor woman to accept a ride from this ChiRish bully to work. Then, I go to work at an all boys Catholic high school funded almost entirely by my black hearted Irish Cousins, where we do good out of White Flight Guilt alone!

There is no limit to the lengths that I will go to make people of different colors obliged in some dark and twisted expiation for my sins. The only people more active in tormenting African Americans and getting more privilege would be the Jews, according to NPR, Rev. AL and Pork Chop Louie Farahkhan, but Micks take a back seat to none when it comes to racial hate, or race guilt and scab-yanking.  You should hear my Ofay glad-handing bonhommie when I pick up the twelve young black scamps from Englewood to Bronzeville every school day.

I watch every Ken Burns documentary and see the strange fruit swing from every limb in Beverly, Morgan Park and Mount Greenwood enough to no that hatred is the only by product squeezed out of these bones and sinews.  Bill Moyers continues the fine public work begun by William Lloyd Garrision, Jospeh Medill and carried on by Reverend Al Sharpton from Ferguson to 111th & and Rock Island line in Morgan Park.

Any chat about race is a monologue and usually a pretty loud one where I must nod with conviction that I only watch the first twelve minutes of Armistad and the last fifteen minutes of Glory.

It is very important that I recognize that I secretly delight in every act kindness, affliction, raised-eyebrow and every outrage manufacture by Reverend Jackson, or Reverend Al as just another nail added to the White Tower of my privileged life.

Dog whistles, or codes will always catch me out.  People better than me will define me. Gee, black people do not like being defined, from what I hear.  White folks have defined who I am - NPR, Ken Burns, Bill Moyers, Eric Zorn, Carol Marin . . .Gosh I guess we are equal!

The very best people continue to say so.