I am one something away from being completely broken.
Not all cops are bad.
Not all white people are racists.
Not all black people are criminals.
I unequivocally believe those three things, but it does not change the truth of what is going on.
I am utterly speechless at the back flips, twists and turns, and plain perfect gymnastics that many, I mean many, people are going through to deny that racism does exist.
It hurts to know that many people who are exhausting themselves out to explain away this hatred are people I count(ed) as friends, mentors, coworkers, and even family.
I am not sure if I ever wrote about my Vietnamese cousin discovered through DNA about three years ago. Well, one day in my results I saw a second cousin match. I was excited, because I had no idea who this close match was. I contacted him and learned that he was an AmerAsian born during the Vietnam War to an American soldier. He now lived in the States and desperately wanted to find his father but had no information other than he was African American. My tree was filled mainly with the dead but not many born after the 1920s.
I compared him to my tested siblings and determined it had to be a connection through my mom’s side. I had him tested at 23andMe to increase his chances of getting a match. Nothing. (The original test was at FTDNA.) He was then tested at Ancestry and for two years nothing.It wasn’t until two weeks ago that he got a sister match (that matched me and my siblings).
Long story short, his grandmother is my great grandmother’s niece. His father and grandmother are still alive.
Currently, 23andMe is giving away chances to win a free 23andMe kit. They are giving away 100 of them. So, check it out!
I am starting a snippet series of why I don’t feel like the place that I have moved to is home.
1. There are no alleys here.
2. Unplanned sprawl.
3. Never ever experienced such unaware racism in any other place such as here before.
I have taken to posting quick snippets by phone.
I have a hard time reconciling how someone who comes off as being a decent person can support someone whose ideals stand in direct opposition with basic humanity. Well, that is until they talk more about their own ideals. I find it more puzzling on why they seem to not be able to comprehend that I will never be part of that world just because who I was born as. People really do live in the most Pollyanna of bubbles.
I will begin this entry with an announcement. Just as my whole giveaway of DNA kits began, it will now end. I have talked three of my half sibling who are searching for their fathers to test with Ancestry. I bought those tests. So, I am not in the position to purchase more tests at this time. Sorry.
My personal opinion is if you care a little about your ancestors, $99 is a steal for the test. Please note that learning about your ancestors does not mean looking at some ethnicity results. It would serve you better to look and reach out to your matches. You share DNA with those people after all.
About four weeks ago a set of friends, two (one of them brought a friend with) came to visit me in my new home. It went well but there was still a disconnect. Last weekend, another set of friends came to visit. It went as I thought it would. They tried to convince me to love the Pacific Northwest, where I moved to, and to also give up on what will make me happy.
I have come to the conclusion that I am not made for friendship. I am giving up on it. This does not mean that I will be rude to people, but I am tired of feeling left out, out of place, not a good fit, and inferior. I am absolutely exhausted from being told that what will make me happy is wrong because it won’t make someone else happy. In the last year, I have cut ties with ten people and one, the dearest one to me, has cut ties with me. Maybe I am the bad seed in all of this. (I don’t necessarily believe there is a truly bad person in this case though.) As the saying goes, I can be miserable all by myself. I am all by myself and have been when I thought I wasn’t anyway.
I was talking to someone the other day that made the statement that he hates speaking with people who have that “deer caught in the headlights” look. I have the look a lot lately when talking with people. This particular person is one of them. (In fact, he thought he was being sly and insulting me without me realizing what he was trying to do.) For some time, I had been questioning my intelligence. Actually, I have said that as I get older that I get dumber and have believed it. Recently, I am feeling that is not the full story. Perhaps, that is not the story at all.
Ninety percent of the time, I find people whom I am speaking with deserve either a civil and intelligent challenging retort or the deer caught in the headlights response. Since half the time the deserved is a person who has some authority, and I do believe in choosing one’s battles, I opt for the latter.
Granted, having a “superior” or colleague mistake your far-off wandering eyes toward the nearest ray of light as stupidity may not be a smart move; often times, we—the completely sane, clever, scholarly, and thinking people—don’t realize we are even doing it. Or, as in some of my cases, we are battling a need to give the “WTF” look, which never goes over well. So the compromise is this.
Realizing this has restored some self-dignity. A week ago, I would not have been strong enough to admit that the reason why I am baffled when speaking with some people on certain topics or when speaking with specific people at all is because they are actually baffling. I would have felt as if I was covering up for some deficiency of my own. I readily admit that I have my issues but no longer will I lie to myself about this one on those occasions where the person that I am speaking with or listening to is spewing some form of bullshit or is completely batshit.
To my fellow deer-caught-in-the-headlight gazers—and I know that you are out there—I implore you too to release yourself from this self-flagellation and recognize that your blank stares in the distance is not all the time due to a loss of proper brain functioning, diminished intelligence, boredom, or ADHD. The problem could be the person in front of you.