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Persistent racial discomfort
I’m glad that I am not black.
I don’t want to have white friends who say they have black friends. I don’t want to be touched kindly on the shoulder by an unwittingly condescending white friend. I don’t want to have ancestors who were so strong and so lucky that they survived slavery, but came through it robbed of their own ancestry. I don’t want to be called a monkey by somebody who doesn’t know what “xenophobia” means. I don’t want to struggle against the unreasonable expectations of people who lack the imagination to put themselves into my shoes.
Barring a sudden, universal change in human nature, I have to be glad that I’m not black. And I wish I didn’t have to say that.
Daniel Peterson
Coeur d’Alene