white male on white privilege

so you really think the rain is coming down hard now don’t you?
the <insert anyone here category> seems to be getting ahead,
and you don’t like it.
well damn.

why is anyone getting ahead?
you ask.
you huff,
as if blowing down the brick house was ever an option.

dude,
DUDE,
you live in a brick house.
you’re only inflating those precious lungs of yours.

this world you inherited -
and don’t doubt that you did, for a moment, sir -
it’s not so peachy.
you think you know that, but just hold on.

they – insert any one of them here -
don’t always have it easy.
and just because you think that incident in fifth grade
qualifies you as oppressed, I dare ask you to think again.

you don’t wake up and find yourself coated with doubt
of the very essence that you are
simply because of some particular, non-specific,
characteristic of personhood.

you don’t walk out your door and question whether what you wear
is ever going to be misconstrued as too flamboyant,
too political, too nauseatingly cliched
to be assumed to be something that you’re not.

you don’t bow your head in shame when people just like you
make insensitive, bigoted, obnoxious, ignorant, rude or hateful comments
about your skin / religion / sexuality / culture / gender / ability /
identity.

you need to chill, man. seriously.
we’re not taking your jobs, as if they were assigned to you,
or your women, as if they were your property,
or your neighbourhoods, as if you owned the whole damn block.

and no one cares how many blog hits you have.
no one cares how many times you’ve flipped through Ayn Rand
or how many times you’ve checked out the wikipedia edits for some conspiracy.
the doubts you have are yours unto your own.

the rain isn’t really coming down that hard.
if it was, you think we’d give you the time of day to spout all that nonsense?
we kid. of course we’d let you speak.
just when that time comes, have something smart to say, okay?