The Race Industry

A commentary on a much lauded book of complaints by Tahnesi Coates.

Coates seems to be the epitome of the Liberal Victim, constantly seeking a single source to blame for his problems in life. There's not enough hot water-blame Whitey upstairs. There's no seats left for a Broadway show he wants to see-blame Whitey with money. There's black kids on the street vandalizing his car-blame Whitey. After awhile the habit becomes a litany and white people become the Judas goat for every thing he-the self appointed representative of Blacks Everywhere-has suffered in life. How he manages to blame being bullied and beaten by other black kids on white racism is about as logical as the use of N-word by rappers and wannabe thugs. Excuse me as a white woman for not caring anymore. While I will always seek to actively help individuals, I will risk the microaggression of not particularly caring about their ethnicity other than in an observational way. Also, I am personally tired to death of the assumption by black activists that there's some secret grant that all white folks get. I worked my way through school. Contrary to the John Hughes film imagery that seems to fuel Coates' ideas on how all white folks live, that is not reality. My dad worked until the day he died at age 75. Right now my husband has been unemployed for more than a year. My kids worked two or more jobs in college and are grossly underemployed considering their degrees. Yet somehow Coates, who I'm sure got a nice advance for his book of complaints and is compensated well enough to live in one of the most expensive cities in the world, believes because not everyone in the world smiles at him daily, he can blame entire swaths of humanity for his problems. I'm suffering from Grievance Fatigue and frankly cannot take time to worry about whether the feelings of wealthy black men are hurt because the white grocery cashier-whose feet and back probably hurt from standing for hours on end-didn't give him a cheery high five with his purchase.