Meanwhile, in the real world, where I live, Black people...¶

Meanwhile, in the real world, where I live, Black people are friends and neighbors and comrades in arms.

I am white. My city and neighborhood are mostly black. I have lived here my whole life and never encountered anything close to this apocalyptic vision of intractable animus. https://t.co/cQEekLxCjc What level of delusion does it take to believe that not just some, but the MAJORITY of the thousands of people I've met and known and loved have been secretly harboring pure hatred toward me? Endless fake smiles and fake hugs and fake laughs and fake favors and fake gratitude My elderly neighbor who can't afford to retire, and calls me to chat while he's on the road delivering cargo. That guy who always says hi when we see each other, and we don't know each other's names, but at this point it would be too awkward to ask. My next door neighbor growing up who always got WAY too into our games of make believe, but he was "doing it wrong," to my autistic frustration. His dad, who covered for my own dad's complete lack of handiness when a tree branch was dangling on the power line. The mother who yelled at me when I called to let her know her daughter was failing my class, then came down to the school the next day to apologize -- she was just having a rough day. She became my biggest advocate during my first year of teaching. The union president who always had time to chat and scheme about ways to push a more radical line, encouraging me to join more committees because my voice would be important. She invited me to that small party when they won reelection, even though I wasn't even a teacher anymore. That guy I met on a Facebook group for local queers, who started flirting with me HARD and quickly became a recurring "companion." We bonded over a mutual love of cooking and kissing and educating. We don't talk as much these days, but it's always a pleasure when we do. 30 years of friends and neighbors and coworkers and bosses on a power trip and friendly strangers and petty arguments and catcalls and respectful compliments and helpful advice and nosy busybodies and inspiring radicals and disappointing liberals. Not a trace of "racial enmity." I don't know what world you live in. But where I live, people are people. They demand respect, and they give it in return. Or sometimes they don't, because some people are jerks. But to claim most Black people are driven by hatred just tells me you don't know any. Wonder why 🤔