Recently I posted an ad on kijiji attempting to locate a person I’d sold my van to, but forgot to exchange numbers with. He hadn’t picked it up after nearly two weeks and I hadn’t been able to track him down by other, less public means. Within a few hours of posting it, this happened:
Bannon is a very common Anishnaabeg (First Nation) surname in this part of the province. So, what this random person I don’t know, but who felt compelled to respond to me is actually saying is, “Native people are super unreliable and you’re probably screwed.” Hahaha, soooo hilarious.
There were many things I wanted to say. Many things I started to say and deleted. If you’ve ever called out someone like this, you know the outcome. It’s never pretty. I contemplated not responding. This guy’s clearly a troll, I thought. He just wants attention. But I couldn’t let it go. So I tried to reproach him in the least confrontational way possible. I settled on this:
I hoped that would be the end of it. He would feel sufficiently cowed, or at least get that I didn’t appreciate his unsolicited opinions. I would wash that particular stink from my hands and carry on with my day.
You’re hrrumphing knowingly right now, aren’t you? Because you’ve been here before, too. And you’re right.
Five minutes later I received this:
Funny about this kind of honesty. It comes from a place where people say things like:
“I’m not racist, but [insert racist generalization here]”
“it’s just a fact that [insert gross stereotype here]”
“Of course the criminals were [insert non-white identity here]”
It’s the kind of honesty that reeks of privilege, of unexamined assumptions, of historical ignorance, of pure laziness.
I didn’t respond again, because I know that in the end it would be me losing my mind with rage, goaded into a righteous fervour by this random stranger’s bigotry. It wouldn’t change a single thing for him. And it’s not really about him. It’s so much bigger than that.
But you know what?
Fuck the assumptions that led you to think that all people believe as you do. Do you say these things assuming I am white? Why? Because white is the automatic default? Because I was selling and he was buying? Why did you feel the need to email me in the first place? To prove a point? What point, exactly? I could list a hundred and one reasons why you are wrong, but I suspect you’d have a hundred and two refutations, all based on the same tired white people mantras that have been spouted for decades.
Fuck the sense of entitlement that led you to such laziness that you cannot bother looking beyond the same old sterotypes. That leaves you too comfortable in your unearned privilege to do any of the work that is needed to bring about real understanding. That leaves you content to have a scapegoat to blame so you and your worldview can remain safely unchallenged. Are you blind to the reality of the people you deride so openly, who are rising up all around you in protest, in celebration, in support, in being. In just living their lives. Visible.
Or maybe you do see it. And that’s why you feel the need to make your horrible not-jokes to strangers on the internet.
Two days later, the man picked up the van, and I felt an insane, childish urge to email my truth-telling penpal just to say “I told you so!” Just so he would not have the last word. So he would not carry on thinking he was so fucking clever and right, so “just plain honest.”
But I didn’t. Because I could give him a hundred and one reasons why he was wrong and he would have a hundred and two refutations. Because at heart he is a troll who gets his kicks by being mean to strangers on the internet.
But perhaps I am the one making assumptions. Perhaps he would have been open to constructive dialogue. If so, by all means call me out. And I, in turn, will call you back in.
Tales and Snails 