I'm Judging You (29 page)

Reality TV has taken our penchant for voyeurism and given us options for our preferred type of foolishness to tap into. Our appetite for this kind of entertainment is as telling about us as anything else. If we were to create a time capsule of this era for future generations to discover, we'd certainly need to include footage of people breaking bottles over each other's heads over dinner. In medieval times, people would go watch people fight and make spectacles of themselves. Reality programming has become our jousting field. The knights on horses are women in too-tight dresses wearing nighttime makeup at high noon. The winner is whoever can drag the other farthest by her weave before security catches her. Everything is a circus, everyone is the bearded lady, and everyone—audience included—plays a role in this clown show.

 

Epilogue: Do Something That Matters

When I was about three or four, I had this baby doll that was my absolute favorite thing in the world. She was brown, had short hair, and looked so real it was almost freaky. I was totally her fake mom, and I'd cuddle her and have her sleep next to me and everything. One day, a woman who went to high school with my mom came to visit. She brought her daughter, who was also my age, and we got along fine, until she wanted to play with my baby doll and I was all, “Hands off!” Because sharing this thing I loved was not an option. She ran to her mother crying, and I was looking like, “What's that got to do with me?” Before they left, my mom told me to hand my doll over to homegirl, and I looked at her like she had just told me candy was a figment of my imagination. Mom took my doll from me and handed it to the girl, and I hit the first wall-slide I can remember. I wept. The girl's mother tried to hand the doll back to little distraught me, but my mom told her no, it was HER gift. THE HELL IT IS. I DIDN'T SIGN OFF ON THIS. I didn't scrawl on anybody's release form.

After they left, my mom came over to the sobbing me and said, “I know you really liked that doll, but that little girl does not have as much as you have. You should give if you have more than you need. Also, you have other toys to play with.” PSHT. WHATEVER, LADY! YOU JUST STOLE MY JOY.

I mean, she didn't have to illustrate the power of giving by handing over my favorite toy
in the world
, but I get it. I remember that after I wept bitterly for a couple of minutes, I was okay. (Relatively. The fact that I still remember the story means I continue to harbor some butthurtness about it.) I grew up to be a well-rounded (ha!) adult who is pretty functional. But who knows what having that doll did for that little girl? Who knows what impact it had?

Her selflessness is one of the things I admire the most about my mother. It is why I'm here. Well, she GAVE me life (the ultimate gift—thanks, Mom!), but most importantly, she's given me a sense of obligation to serve. She didn't tell me I need to give away all my favorite things, but the lesson was that I need to serve even when it's inconvenient, especially when relinquishing what I have in surplus is a mild annoyance at worst.

I fear that too many of us think of giving back as an option instead of an obligation, and I judge some of us for not being brave enough to commit to being truly beneficent.

I have never had to worry about where my next meal is coming from, or if I'm going to have a roof over my head tonight, or if the clothes on my back will suffice to keep me warm. And for that, I am richer than 75 percent of the people in the world. This is why I feel like we're failing at existence. The fact that my having the most basic things I need makes me an exception, rather than the rule, is how I know we are not doing enough for mankind. There are still children who are starving, or homeless. And kale is an accepted vegetable that people pay to eat. We've gone wrong somewhere, folks.

It can be overwhelming when we think of all that is wrong around us, and these thoughts can cripple us into just trying to make sure we're okay ourselves, day by day. Finding our own happiness and contentment can be revolutionary all by itself. This I know. I encourage everyone to find their own footing.

Nevertheless, I am a big believer in the notion that we've each got to look outside ourselves and figure out what we're going to do to make this world a little bit less terrible. Even though I check Craigslist several times a week to see if Mars has gotten its shit together and is looking for new roommates, we're currently all stuck here on Earth together. (I figure if Bitcoin exists, then surely we must be close to creating a colony on the red planet.) So while we're here on the planet with water and perfect conditions that allow us to exist, what are we doing to contribute to it? What are we doing to ensure that the third rock from the sun isn't a hellhole where everything sucks? Are we just using up oxygen and giving nothing back besides our trash?

Some of us are in better positions to be able to give our time, money, voices, and power to making the world a better place (for you and me and the entire human race). There are far too many people whose very survival is an act of revolution as they remain here against all odds. The very fact that they're standing and walking and talking and being is worthy of awe. On the other hand, there are also plenty of us who are in positions to give something, say something, or do something that can make one small ripple of good change.

Sometimes, we feel the pressure and self-imposed expectation that when we do something, it needs to be big and perfect. That can render us useless and ensure that we do nothing because we're so afraid of not doing enough. That's tapping out before we begin. Damb that. I am here to tell us all to drop that. Small acts can go far, so you thinking you cannot do enough is not okay. You can, and I am asking you to at least try.

You do not have to be Captain Planet or Batman. No one is expecting you to save Gotham from the Joker. But you also cannot just be the person being saved constantly and not saving those behind you.

Doing nothing of service is like someone throwing you a rope to pull you out the water, and then when you get safely in the boat you pull the rope up behind you instead of helping others who are still doggy-paddling for their lives. To me, that is what we're doing when we are in positions of power or have platforms and do nothing of note with them. Odds are the reason we even have the opportunity to be on those pedestals is because of the work of someone who came before us. Choosing not to maximize our positive impact is careless.

I'm not asking you to donate millions (unless you got it), or protest for forty days (unless that's the life you're about), or write a book about making the world a better place (unless you really want to). I am asking each of us to examine our lives, see where we've lucked out, and try to make someone else's path easier than ours.

There are certain things that have placed some of us in positions of authority, power, wealth, and extra well-being. We've come upon, earned, or been born into trust funds, or the talent that makes people on the street know who we are, or asses that won't quit (hey, J.Lo!), or we're in the default majority group and have a leg up in this world. Either way, there are enough of us who are privileged in one way or another. What are we doing with the elevation we've been given?

Good question you didn't ask. I wholeheartedly believe that adage of “to whom much is given, much is required.” In whatever way you can, do something to lift someone else up. One of the easiest ways to do that? Be an ally, by living in ways that respect others who are marginalized.

You're white? Get some Black friends. Know what racism is and how you are a part of it. Don't use the N-word (even if it's in your favorite song). Denounce the system, and acknowledge your privilege. Don't rock blackface.

You're a man? Treat women like they're equal beings. Don't rape them. Don't hit them. Don't harass them. When they're being disrespected and you see it, speak up. When your buddies are making “bitch” jokes, don't laugh. You should even tell them that shit isn't funny.

You're straight? Love people, no matter who they choose to love. Don't treat your gay friends as accessories. Don't use or stay silent when someone else uses derogatory language. Don't try to pray someone's gay away.

You're able? Invite your friends with disabilities to places where they will not struggle to enter or exist. Teach your children that different isn't synonymous with subpar. Raise kids who have seen you lead by example. Let them know that to be a good person means embracing all people, even those whose normal may be different from others'.

If you start there, you're doing something decent. At the minimum, you won't be contributing too much to the many shitty systems of oppression in this world. That's huge.

But those of us who can do more than just merely NOT being extra shitty should do more by consciously giving back. Again, it is not about donating money to a disaster-relief fund if you don't have it. Sometimes, it can be as simple as speaking up about the crappy state of affairs around us.

For me, it is really important for people to have a platform that they use for more than fluff. What is the point of having access to millions of people when all you're doing is talking about yourself? It is selfish, it is narrow, and it is a disservice to the power you have. Wield it for more than promoting your work. I want to dropkick some people off their pedestals, because they're standing up there and doing nothing to pull people up with them.

You might not be an expert on a topic, but your willful silence on an issue that affects the very people who are responsible for putting money in your pocket is complicity. The community that is responsible for your elevation should not be getting murdered, injured, or oppressed without you at least bearing witness that this oppression exists. Your silence is complicity, and your lack of giving a damb is pure bullshit. Sure, you're not obligated to. Sure, the only thing you
need
to do is stay Black (or white, or whatever) and follow the drinking gourd to the Lord one day. Oh, and you have to pay taxes. But besides that, you're not
required
to do a freaking thing.

However, the lack of requirement does not mean you shouldn't feel like it is your duty to use your voice or your platform or your power for something greater than or beyond yourself. Obligation and ethics are often mutually exclusive, but that doesn't mean they should not work in tandem from time to time.

Many of us have a clear purpose: to entertain the masses. This is what we get paid for, and it is what we delight in. But as we make people laugh, we can still make them think critically. The most prolific, revolutionary comedians are the ones who dare to use their humor to satirize the world around them in order to highlight where we need to do better. They might poke fun, but underlying the humor is important commentary about our world.

It's not easy. Most things worth doing aren't. The times when it is most uncomfortable for us to speak up are usually when our voices are most needed and when what we need to say is most important. Why? Because it's hard to stand and speak truth to power when it comes to anything that is not trivial. When our voices shake, that's when the words need to be heard the most. We are all different, with various backgrounds and opinions that span the colors of the rainbow. We will not always agree. What we feel we need to say will not always be palatable. The systems in place depend on us playing by the rules, so rocking the boat is not fun. However, if you're in one boat, and you see another capsizing but you do nothing to help when you are able, how do you sleep at night? Maybe it's not up to you to save those people, but at least blow a whistle to give them a fighting chance. Also, the ocean scares me, and I'm totally wearing a life vest right now just in case. Technically, I can swim, but knowing water is deeper than I am tall makes me freeze up. Just thought you should know.

Privilege comes in many forms, and being popular is one of them. Having a platform and a listening audience and immediate access to a big group of people is certainly something that most people do not have. Those of us with these platforms, whether we are writers or entertainers, are in positions of power. How we choose to use our social endowment is up to every individual, of course. However, I bristle at those who are so concerned with their “brand” that they will only ever talk about that narrow thing they're known for. People are afraid of ruffling feathers, but sometimes the fear isn't worth the shutting up. Also, people don't give their fans enough credit. An audience needs to see those they support as whole people, not a bunch of one-topic-spewing robots. When shit hits the fan, and people in positions of authority and positions with access don't speak out, everybody loses. How can you passively sit on your high horse when the barn is crumbling around you?

Many of my fellow bloggers, writers, and content creators have niches. We have been told over and over again that we prosper and flourish when we pick a lane and stick to it. We have been told that our audience likes to know what box we're in, and when we veer away from that box, we are giving people the unexpected and they won't appreciate it. Well, I disagree that bloggers should not sometimes switch lanes, even if just for a moment. I cannot ignore what's happening around me because I'm afraid to alienate readers. If the audience I've built leaves because I talk about what is important to me, I got the wrong people. There's always a threat of backlash or loss of money from speaking up. I get it. I'm a professional troublemaker and loudmouth. I have pissed people off many times. I've probably pissed people off with this very book, but it's worth it to me to take personal risks for public gain.

Speaking up for what you believe in does not look the same for everyone. Being a concerned human is not some uniform behavior that we must all practice. For me, it is the simple acknowledgement of injustice. It is the act of stating that you see it and you do not condone it. It is the refusal to ignore the world's shenanigans in an effort to be neutral. Neutrality is for suckas, and it does nothing but indicate that you are all right with bad things happening. It is like watching someone get robbed and not even calling 911. You just sit there and watch as if real people aren't being harmed.