Many of my friends sit on the left of their ideological beliefs, as I once did. Something funny happened to me a few years back though. I actually listened to the right, and realized that they weren’t these evil pariahs the left believe them to be.
When I opened my eyes and ears to another perspective I began a journey that is quite isolating. Everyone who has gone or is going through this journey can relate. It’s a lonely experience because few people we know have seen the light.
You’re almost afraid to speak up because you know what may happen. You’ll get a call from a friend, or they will sit you down at a dinner party, and admonish you for thinking outside of the box.
The left have convinced themselves for years that they are morally pure. That what they believe is on the ‘right side of history,’ and that they are morally superior to conservatives. And if recent history has told us anything, they’re not always wrong. It usually was the left who championed equal rights for blacks, women and gays.
They began to go wrong when they wanted to control what people think, what they say and how they express themselves. They became hysterical at anyone who dared criticize, question, or leave their ideological spectrum.
We now have to believe that there is no such thing as biological sex, that there is no connection between gender and sex, that it’s okay to place children on hormone blockers when they question their gender, that all black people are oppressed and victims of some phantom white supremacy, that all women are victims of some phantom patriarchy.
There is no debate. To question or criticize any of these assertions is not only wrong, it’s evil. It’s a sign that you’re a Nazi, a fascist and that you’re morally impure. You’re a bigot, a transphobe, a racist, a homophobe.
And if you’re white, you’re privileged. The left has become so blinded by their dogma that they can’t see how racist they are.
I happen to be one of those people who does not give a fuck. I will write and say whatever I want, and it has gotten me into a lot of trouble. I have been screamed at, called names, lost friends to name a few of the consequences I’ve met for daring to say what I think.
What really irked me was this past summer, when BLM was rioting streets, looting and burning small businesses. The left chose to ignore this violence, or defend it as a means to social justice. Then there was all this screaming at white people to recognize their privilege.
I can’t for the life of me understand how my friends bought into this, but I lost a lot of respect for many of them. They’re operating in a religious orthodoxy of their own making.
To tell all white people that they experience privilege is racist in and of itself. The claim ignores personal experiences, disregards their possible pain, trauma and states that if they faced any disadvantage in life, it was easier for them because they were white. This is dehumanizing.
I am not denying that privilege exists, or that some white people are privileged. They are. Just as some people of colour are privileged. Both men and women of all colours experience privilege in some regards. This, for some reason, is now a controversial statement to make.
Allow me to provide my own personal account. I was born in 1979 to an Italian immigrant who was extremely Catholic, and an unfit parent. I had four siblings. The eldest was my half sister, as my mother was married before she met my father. It was a different time, divorce for Italian Catholics was considered a sin. My father refused to accept my sister and when I was four, she was 14, he kicked her out of the house.
Where is her privilege? My sister went from home to home, job to job, shelter to shelter. Now in her 50s she is happy, but it took her a long time to get there. And no one helped her do it.
Like most mediterraneans, my father is not white, nor does he identify as such. He faced a lot of racism when he arrived to Canada. My brothers and I were raised in a single income home, my father was a barber, and dabbled in the mafia, so he claimed (I challenge this), for some time upon emigrating.
My brothers and I were discouraged from reading. It was clear from the outset that my father did not want his children to succeed. I was smart, did well in school, was a bookworm, of which my father did not like, and he ridiculed me mercilessly for it.
There was a lot of abuse in my house. And I don’t mean slaps. I’m talking beatings so bad we couldn’t go to school because we were black and blue. My father also beat my mother a lot.
Therapy has illuded to some sexual abuse, of which I’m not surprised.
It wasn’t only physical. There was emotional, psychological and mental trauma, as well as a lot of neglect.
The abuse was so strong that out of all my siblings, I am the only one who is somewhat functional. My sister lived for a while in women’s shelters, my brother is a homeless crack head, and my other brothers are alcoholics trapped in depression.
It did not matter that we were white. The trauma that comes from an abusive home follows you forever, making it difficult to function on an every day level. It takes considerable willpower to overcome the demons, the visions, the memories to make something out of one’s life.
But nothing can ever fill the void of not being loved by the two people who chose to put you on this earth.
To escape, I worked hard, 40 hour weeks as a produce clerk while studying to get into university, and took out student loans to pay for tuition. I am the only member of my family to achieve higher education.
And with my $38,000 worth of student loans, I did not ask for forgiveness. I did not ask that someone pay my way. I got a job, and paid the loans off myself.
Now, cut to the left, woke mob, who were telling white people this past summer that none of this really matters, because we are white. This, they say, would be worse, if we were black. And any achievement that a white person has made is because they were white.
The left are so immersed in their dogma, that they cannot recognize the hypocrisy of these claims.
The worst part about abuse is the silence around it. Many lack the courage to speak about it openly because there is a stigma to do so. When I started to do this, I was met with uncomfortable stares by many. My father called me and left several abusive voice mail messages threatening to sue me if I continued to do it. This after not hearing from him in 15 years.
A side note: There does come a time in a survivor’s life where he thinks reason will win out. We often attempt to confront our abuser, especially if they’re an immediate relative. I tried, but as an adult I learned something I couldn’t as a child: my parents are damaged. Most abusers will not take any ownership, responsibility or accountability for what they have done. There is a sociopathy to them, an egocentricism that is impenetrable. This is not an easy truth to accept, for there will never be any closure.
Confronting an abuser is a challenging and intimidating process. It takes a specific type of character to disregard the barriers, to rise above and do what is right, for them.
But since I know a little about being intimidated, I also know a little something about not kowtowing to it.
The truth is, you have no idea the pain that anyone is carrying. You can’t dismiss someone because of their skin colour. But that is what the woke wants all of us to do.
They want to define everyone based on not the content of their character, but by the colour of our skin.
If you belong to a minority group you must think the same: you’re a victim and you’re oppressed and white men are out to get you.
But if you happen to be a member of that group who thinks otherwise, well, then, you’re the wrong type of black, or gay, or transsexual. The left will waste no time alienting you from their group, vilifying you, and in some cases, will attempt to ruin your career, your life and the lives of the ones you love.
The tolerance, empathy and compassion they champion, is eroded the moment you think for yourself.
This narrow minded, singularly focused view is tearing apart the fabric of our civilization. It is havoc.
What I do, to combat this, is fight it. In person, online, whenever I get the chance. We need to be braver in dealing with these people. They’re infants, incapable of living in the world, so they attempt to make us yield through intimidation tactics. The online harrassment is no different than the mob coming to your front lawn with pitchforks.
The sad, and joyful part is that I’ve lost a lot of friends. If you don’t think how they do, you’re out of their life. But then I remind myself in those incidences that they were not really my friends to begin with.
If their idea of friendship depends on everyone believing exactly what they believe, then, well, they’re not worth my time.