The Perspective of Privilege

One person’s divisive post is another one’s uplifting encouragement

“I would rather see Positive Ron.”

It’s such a simple statement. A comment. A reply actually. A reply to a video I posted on my Facebook profile about a year or so ago. The video was footage from a 1939 Nazi rally. On U.S. soil. Madison Square Garden to be exact. Oh, don’t believe me?

This was a clip from the Oscar-nominated short film documentary about that time when 20,000 American Nazi’s gathered at the Garden to talk about things like demanding the elimination of Jewish/Moscow controlled labor unions and giving white Gentiles more power in the U.S.

There was another disturbing video I saw around the same time. It was during the 2016 presidential race at the Nevada caucuses. A protestor showed up at Trump’s Vegas rally. During the exchange, Trump made this comment:

You know what they used to do to guys like that in a place like this? They’d be carried out on a stretcher.

When you hear this comment—from an American presidential candidate no less—in light of this Nazi rally, you can’t help but make the comparison. Which is exactly what I was doing when I shared this video. Saying how 1) I was shocked and a little ashamed I didn’t know this part of American history, and 2) how eerily similar this altercation at the Nazi rally was to the Trump rally.

And that’s when I got the aforementioned comment from someone who wanted “Positive Ron” back. What this gentleman was referring to was the period of time when the most provocative thing I’d blog about was whether or not Canon was better than Nikon, or why I thought Final Cut Pro X would be the Non-linear editing program of the future. (If you’re not a filmmaker or photographer, those may sound innocently innocuous. But trust me on this: debates among visual artists about the equipment and software they use can very quickly get as heated and ugly as any debate with a Trump supporter. Believe you me! But…I digress).

But all of that changed in 2016.

No longer safe

After the election of Trump, and all the craziness that has happened since, I went through what I affectionately like to call a “blaxistential” crisis. It had such a profound effect on me, I wrote a satirical memoir about the experience. Having spent my entire adult life in a predominantly white world as a devout Christ-follower, to say I was conflicted after the 2016 election would be a profound understatement.

I found myself speaking out against blatant racial injustices, and I was getting into more and more confrontations with fellow “Christians” who called me all sorts of names (e.g. Libtard, Snowflake, etc.) all because I stood up to their “savior.” Our president. All the while, two people who are staunch atheists treated me and my family with the greatest amount of love and compassion during a really difficult time. These atheists showed me the love Jesus actually talked about. While Christians, even ones I knew personally, treated me like sh*t.

I was no longer the “safe” black man who blogged about frame rates and shutter speed. I had become an ABM—angry black man (DUN, DUN, DUUUUNNNNNN!)

So, some of my followers, people who had seen the fun and smiling Ron for years, the “Positive Ron,” were now seeing someone who was calling people on their privilege, raising issues of gender disparity, sticking up for LGBTQ+ rights, and challenging the hypocrisy of my fellow so-called “brothers and sisters in Christ.” Some people just weren’t having it.

It’s all about perspective

So, when this gentleman said he missed “Positive Ron,” it struck me odd that he considered all of my posts negative. I replied:

One man’s divisive post is another woman’s uplifting encouragement. Or a disillusioned Christian’s ray of hope. It’s all in your perspective my friend.

He then replied:

Yea, guess you’re not the man you once we’re. Best of luck sir.

Let that sink in. Because I was posting stories about racial injustice, or sharing revelations about sordid aspects of American history many of us were never taught, it was too much for him. He decided to write me off.

And in case you’re wondering, yes! He was white and male.

And so therein lies the rub. The bane of so many people of color, women, and LGBTQ+ people when we share our stories of oppression, injustice, hatred, etc. It just falls on deaf ears because so many of the people who we need to listen to us, the demographic in the power to make change, don’t want to listen because to them it’s just all negative and “divisive.”

In my most recent interaction, I had posted a video of Trump supporters protesting the covid-19 stay-at-home orders. I asked if people thought these Trump supporters were representative of most, or if these obnoxious individuals were a small percentage. One woman (yes, white) said that she thinks the video (which admittedly was by Occupy Democrats) was just made to make Trump supporters look bad (which, come on now, doesn’t take a lot, regardless of partisanship). She went on to say…

…not all Trump supporters are like this. I believe these are extremists. I am sure they are making many Trump supporters cringe.

Now, I bet you had the same reaction to this comment that I had. “Trump supporters cringe?” Really? So I replied…

I mean no disrespect, but if you honestly believe ANYTHING can make a Trump supporter cringe (excluding anything related to Obama, Democrats, or freedom of the press), I don’t think you’ve been paying close attention to the past four years. It comes off as a very naive statement, to be honest. Which, honestly, brings into question your opinion of these Trump supporters. Again, I do not mean that as an insult.

Well. I think she took it as an insult.

I’m going to back away from this discussion because it is beginning to feel a little personal. … I will personally focus my efforts on bringing people together and not on promoting divisive messaging.

Here again was another sentiment not too unlike our “Positive Ron” friend. The insinuation that my posting a video of obnoxious Trump supporters promotes divisive messaging. Or more importantly, pointing out how naive her comment seemed in light of all we’ve seen of Trump and his supporters, was somehow a personal attack on her, as opposed to objective observation. One even couched with assurances I wasn’t trying to insult her.

I get it. We’re all tired of seeing all the depressing and negative images. It weighs on you. Even I sometimes get tired of it all. And I genuinely commend her desire to focus on things that bring people together.

But I couldn’t help but think, again, that this feels like it’s coming from a place of privilege. The stress that some of us in the minority demographics have been feeling the past four years under this r̶e̶g̶i̶m̶e̶ administration is exponentially more “heavy” than the half-dozen or so “negative” Facebook posts I make each week. As I wrote:

…some people belong to demographics where that is not always possible or the best choice. If a group of people belong to a demographic that suffers under the actions of the government, they feel compelled to speak out. I understand why that might seem divisive to some. But what is divisive to some, IS an act of coming together for others. It’s all in the perspective.

Insistence is futile

At the end of the day, it all comes back to empathy. How can you have conversations about change if the receiving party has absolutely no frame of reference for why you’re so exasperated. The more you try to tell them, the more you come off as “divisive” or “negative” or “angry.”

I honestly don’t know the answer to this question. I’ve tried recording a fun, Star Trek themed video, I wrote a satirical memoir, and I’ve shared personal stories of how I learned to be empathetic to gender issues. I hope I’m making a difference. But I can’t help but think that it’s all for not.

As of the writing of this piece, we’re only a couple of weeks out from the arrest of two white men—Travis and Gregory McMichael—for the murder of Ahmaud Arbery, a 20-year-old black man jogging near Brunswick, GA. These two chased Arbery down in a truck and shot him to death because they claimed they were trying to make a citizen’s arrest. Apparently, Arbery “fit the description” of a black man who had been seen “robbing” a vacant, unfinished house down the street. I recently had an exchange with a conservative, white, cis-gender Christian man who, when offering a possible defense for the men who killed Arbery, said this:

As it pertains to the McMichaels I have no idea whether they were in the right or in the wrong. If I were to guess based on what I do know it would be both. I know that they were tasked by the police to assist the owner in case anyone should try to rob the residence again. I know that it was within their rights to perform a citizens arrest on Aubrey and to use a gun to do it.

This answer is very clinical. Safe. Even diplomatic. And it shows zero empathy for Arbery’s family and friends. He’s just another dead black man who may or may not have deserved to die based on the fact he may or may not have robbed a vacant, unfinished house.

After 70+ replies on this thread between this gentleman and a few other people attempting to illustrate examples of white privilege, it was pretty clear there was no convincing him. His take on black-on-black crime, the culpability of the welfare state as being the worst thing to happen to black people since slavery, and his disbelief of the existence of white privilege, proved that conversations with him would be futile.

I have met numerous men like this over the past four years. And any cursory overview of the Twitter threads of conservative influencers like Ben Shapiro, will show that there are hundreds of thousands, even millions, with similar mindsets. I have therefore come to the conclusion that there are three concrete courses of action to deal with and defeat this kind of thinking.

1. Stay educated and informed about this country’s history and be knowledgable and prepared to offer cogent arguments for the realties of perspective. But don’t bother trying to convince the unconvinceable. Practice self-care and move on when it’s obvious where a person stands.
2. Always remind people that having white privilege is not bad; denying it is. And acknowledging it does not make one a “reverse racist.”
3. Support and promote the creation of art and media that illustrate the beauty and reality of diversity. Over time, positive images of marginalized people will permeate the cultural DNA and affect how little boys and girls of those communities will see themselves.

I believe that eventually the generations of ignorance that lack empathy will die out. It may not be in our lifetimes. Until then, we have no choice but to persevere in patience, continuing to fight the good fight.