I’m White. I’m Not Racist Or In The KKK. I’m Also Not Your Punching Bag.

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I hate that my skin color defines who I am. White. KKK. Racist. I can’t say or do anything without, “She’s just racist.” I work in retail and I see tons of people all day long. I treat everyone the same. But now and then I always get that one person who’s having the worst day ever. I’ve had customers scream at me and cause a scene claiming that I ignored them or treated them poorly because I’m racist. Not because the minute they walked in the door I became their punching bag and was pummeled with insults.

Again, I can’t say anything because it’s my job and I need it, and because I’m white.  Sometimes I wish I was never born.  I wish I could take off my skin and not be classified under any color. I want to scream at people and ask them why race matters. Why has this ever mattered? And, why are we still making it matter?

image- pedrosimoes7


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