Count your blessings

Identity politics tells us that all members of a particular minority group must think alike. Unfortunately the most vocal members of these groups conform to this nonsensical nonsense.

If you’re reading this, and you’re a white lefty, ask yourself why you think that all black people must subscribe to victimhood culture? Why must all black people think exactly the same thing about themselves and their place in our society? And why are we so hostile to black people who don’t want to share this narrative?

About five years ago I started analyzing all of this bullshit, and yes, I call it bullshit. It’s limiting, and restrictive for individuals to join a Borg collective. As a gay man I was told for a long time to shut up and play along, pretend that all gay people are victims. Well, I looked at my life. Sure, the beginning wasn’t great. Gays didn’t have equal rights in Canada until 2006. But we got it. Can I take a minute to acknowledge what a tremendous achievement that is?

It would be disingenuous of me, as an upper middle class white gay man, to convince anyone that I am a victim of anything. That simply isn’t reflective of my reality.

I often wonder what would happen if minority groups stopped with these victim narratives, picked themselves up and pursued their goals with conviction, determination and hard work? Because if you convince yourself that your failures in life are the result of your minority status, then you won’t really try at anything. You can simply blame it on white supremacy, or your minority status, rather than persevering in spite of all the disadvantages you believe you’re facing.

We’re so infantlized now, we believe microaggressions are part of a system of oppression. People say dumb shit to me about gay stuff all the time. I don’t consider any of these a ‘microaggression’. Are you kidding me? I’m an adult. I can’t, nor do I want to control what people think, say or write. Something as insignificant as asking me about sex positions isn’t going to ruin my day, let alone my life.

Living comes with a risk of being offended. As soon as you open the door in the morning you’re entering a complex, intellectually diverse landscape where people express themselves freely. Claiming a microaggression is a way to say that someone hurt your feelings for innocently asking you where you’re from. Such questions are emotionally exausting, we’re told.

I’m asked where I’m from all the time because my name does not match my face. They ask if I’m from Italy, or France, or if I’m from Quebec. All. The. Time. What am I supposed to do? Cry and write long articles about how such questions are reflective of our immigrant-phobic society? No. I know that’s not true. I’m an immigrant success story.

It’s horrifying to me how infantlized our culture has become. The truth is we’ve made tremendous progress around social justice. There is no better time to be alive if you’re a minority. Bar none. And if you’re a member of a minority group, count yourself lucky if home is a Western, civilized, capitalist country.

Why do activists attempt to convince themselves and others that the opposite is true? What’s the objective? Equality? Well, guess what, you’ve got it! If your biggest complaint in a day is that someone asked you if your hair is real, well, you’re living a pretty fucking great life.

Take a step back and listen to yourself, and your complaint. And realize how trivial it sounds compared to true suffering and inequality that exists in the developing world, and in Islamic countries. Then shake your head, and count your blessings.

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