Why is White Fragility So Funny?
Desperately seeking punchline
I’m stuck on a story.
Sometimes when I write about being stuck on a story, it gets unstuck. It’s like Goof Off, which is extremely toxic. It’ll take the stickers off your windows but you’ll be dead in a week.
Becoming unstuck requires help from the multiverse. This version of me, the woman hiding out in the midwest, steeped in political correctness, can’t find the joke.
This version of me is tinkering with the premise white people have thin skin, but I’m anchored there. It’s like knock knock. Who’s there? I don’t know.
I’m sure you’ve heard about this white fragility phenomenon. If you haven’t, it goes something like this.
The world is a magical place full of people waiting to be offended by something.
If this is you, you might have white fragility. I don’t know if there’s a cure. I’m working on that. That's what I’m stuck on. I can assure though, if you’re not white, you don’t have white fragility. So, don’t go self-diagnosing. Get off White MD.
Full disclosure. I am white and have white fragility. It’s not an easy affliction to shake. I don’t care how politically correct your upbringing was. I don’t care how many Black people you know. I don’t care if you get really tan and people someone said once, “You’re so tan, you’re almost Black.”
White fragility is an ancient affliction that no one figured out a vaccine for. It would have been a great vaccine. Can you imagine a vaccine that gave white people thicker skin? Sign me up, Fauci.
But, no, alas, white fragility is as old as the royals marrying their siblings so they didn’t have to give away any of their money. Speaking of, check out what royal interbreeding did for attractive royal family portraits. I mean c’mon royals, if your family portraits make Frankenstein look hunky, marry a commoner already. You know what I’m talking about, Diana.
White fragility is as dumb as marrying your sibling so you don’t have to share the kingdom. White fragility has been cross-pollinated so many times, catching it is inevitable for us whities. It’s a generationally perpetuating problem. It’s like a single-cell organism that multiplies by dividing.
Like the single-cell organism, we, white people, keep dividing through red-lining, racism, segregating, blocking affirmative action, resisting critical race theory, and yes, there’s more.
Tell me about the more, Bob!
Sorry, Marcy, it would take too long and not everyone agrees that our kids should learn the real history of the United States of America. Am I right, racists?
My problem is I’m stuck on the punchline for my thin skin story. Part of the reason is my sensitivity blocks me from admitting the tragedy of humanity. I’m always looking for a happy ending and my white fragility are the Swiss Guards that protect my narrative. I don’t want to see anyone get hurt.
Fuck you, humor says. You gotta take someone down to be a clown!
What if I have to take me down? I ask the clown.
So be it, says the clown. So be it.
For a delightful read on royal portraiture, check this out.