I want to be a black person for a day!

This is going to be a serious post, y’all.  No fucking around.  No jokes.

 

I want to be black for a day.  Really.  Stop raising your eyebrows, Bridget!  Being black is fun.  You get to have a J.Lo ass and dancing comes as natural to you as picking my nose does to me.

 

Mostly, though, I want to be black for a day so that I can see what its like to be on the wrong side of racism.  At the risk of sounding like Richard Catto, I think us white people get off lightly and take certain things for granted.  I want to see for myself what its like to be glared at because of my colour, or to watch an old lady tighten her grip on her hand bag because she sees me approaching, I want to deal with my ancestors and gain wisdom from them.  I want to see the impressed look when I’m black with a degree and have more class than everyone around me.  You see, things like that just get taken for granted when you’re white. 

 

I really do make an effort to not come across as racist, and I get offended when people imply that I am.  Sometimes though, my personality allows for some over the top macabreness and I don’t realise what I say can be miscontrued or taken seriously.

 

I’m so used to the people I know in real life automatically accepting my humour, that on my blog I assume you guys will too. 

 

What is acceptable to joke around with?  If I think back to my history, I’ve cracked a couple of jokes that got me in trouble.

 

  • I once told my readers that coolies would schnaai you out of your last pair of panties.
  • I called indians coolies, thats enough for prosecution right there!
  • I make fun of clutchplates Afrikaans people all the time, despite the fact that my favourite readers are Afrikaans.  Stef and Neels – I’m calling you guys out.
  • I said that the black man who lived down the street at my old house scared the bejeesus out of me because he sat outside stewing a black pot in his garden all day.  I feared for Susie’s life!  He looked like a dog eater, I swear!

You see what I mean?  My regulars would know to take me with a pinch of salt, but the newbies won’t.  My point is, I think sometimes I take things too far.  I’m sorry if I offend you guys.  But in my own defence, one of the things I’ve always said about myself is that I spend my life exchanging feet in and out of my mouth.

 

So – can we start again?  If I crack a joke that offends you, please know that I never mean it personally, okay?