Saturday, March 11, 2017

Internalization of the Political Moment

"Employees who are not Aryan will be offered a choice. You can keep your job but you will be placed on immediate probation. You will be offered some time to prove your value to the company at a reduced wage or be replaced."

The ATM took my card and I see this message and I must accept or reject. To reject will mean that I am unemployed. I don't want to be unemployed.

I accept the message and say yes.

Immediately I see what my new earning potential will be, the value sign of my yearly worth to the company as a person of color. My lack of Aryanness is suddenly a real thing. I am not perfect.

I

am

not

white.

In this moment I feel my non-whiteness with more frevor, it is more real to me.

I

am

not

white.

In this moment I feel my otherness completely. They know everything. The company. Each window of my privacy they have opened.

You sleep with women.

You sleep with men.

You call yourself a witch.

You drink.

You draw.

You paint.

You make your own clothing.

You are a goth.

You are a freak.

You

are

not

white.

That last is the worst of the insults hurled at me. The others are cold but carry only really the weight of the playground bully. Some are choices, goth, slut, artist, creator.

Sexuality, like my skin color, I cannot choose.

I

am

not

white.

Behind my is my co-worker and she wants to use the ATM. She asks me to move.

"It's okay. Look, just do the job. You know it was only what you deserved anyway. It could be worse right. You do the job."

She shrugs.

We sit in the break room and the walls are accusing me. The walls with posters telling me what a good employee looks like.

Blonde.

Thin.

Happy.

Sucks her bosses cock.

Produces cute little white babies.

There is a two story house and a white picket fence and after baby the second she stays home with her husband who was her boss but is now her master. The walls scream at me.

WHY AREN'T YOU FUCKING NORMAL.

The message they scream louder.

You

are

not

white.

"And what's the problem anyway. For the job you do? It's a fair rate, don't you think?"

"Yeah, fair. It should have been my job anyway, you know." They smile with full white teeth and blond hair and blue eyes and rosey cheeks, each with pictures of a single adorable white child nightmare dangling from a locket around their neck pressed against a cross and all so fucking normal.

"I...I...I..I.."

I wake screaming.


No comments: