Dear woke white people – I’ve watched your reactions to the nationwide riots in response to the death of George Floyd this past week, and I have to say…

As a minority woman, a refugee to the United States, and a thinking human being, you people are an embarrassment to the human race.

That’s right, woke white people.

Sit down and shut the fuck up, because you’re about to hear some truth you may not like.

Over the past week, I’ve seen you genuflect, crawl, grovel, and apologize for your color. I’ve seen you beg forgiveness for your privilege. I’ve seen you self-flagellate and wallow in guilt, claiming you will never understand, but you stand with your African-American friends.

You know what? Your pathetic obsequiousness strikes me as just so much verbal insurance in hopes that the alligator eats you last, as long as you feed it your fellow human beings. You are pathetic cowards, white people, and I say this as someone whose skin is light but who refuses to immolate herself at the altar of your collectivist guilt.

You’re scared violent hordes (mostly white Antifa basement dwellers) will target you for not being sufficiently woke, and the harder you virtue signal, the more likely it will be they will walk right past you.

“You are racist, but you just don’t know it,” woke white people squeal.

Excuse me, fuckers?

My skin may be white, but you are making assumptions – racist ones at that – about who I am and the life experiences that have brought me to this point in my existence. You know nothing. You sit in your gleaming kitchens, on your comfortable couches, drinking your wine, and you dare accuse ME of racism?

Let me disabuse you of some of your racist assumptions, woke white people.

Just because my skin is light, doesn’t mean I haven’t experienced prejudice in my life. It doesn’t mean I wasn’t abused by my fellow students in school, beaten, or tortured by teachers, by police officers, and even by neighbors.

That’s right, white people. I was. I just refuse to use those experiences as excuses for my failure. If nothing else, the abuse I experienced early in my life taught me to fight and persevere. But you assume that somehow I hate other minorities because my skin is light.

Who’s the racist here, woke white people?

Just because my skin is light, doesn’t mean I am privileged. I came to the United States as a refugee. My family and I had nothing when we stepped off that flight. We lived in a roach-infested hovel, with no TV and some loose Legos my parents picked up for me on the curb the night before trash pick-up as my only toys.

Don’t talk to me about white privilege, woke white people. You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me.

You don’t know the disdain with which kids my age looked at me when I came to school wearing the same clothes I had worn the day before. You have never seen their parents sniffle haughtily and hesitatingly invite me into their homes, no doubt hoping I didn’t sit on their clean furniture because I was probably some unclean immigrant.

Just because my skin is light, doesn’t mean I don’t know hatred and prejudice, so when you tell me how privileged I am and how I’ll never understand the plight of black people, I want to put my fist down your collective, woke throats.

Yeah, maybe I’ll never understand what it’s like to have affirmative action give me a boost in college admissions and the workplace.

Maybe I’ll never understand what it’s like to have entire television networks and movie genres dedicated to my “type” of programming.

Maybe I’ll never understand what it’s like to have small business loans just for me.

I will never understand because my skin is light, and white people and black people alike make assumptions about my race and my experiences – most of them wrong.

So yeah, woke white people, when you claim I’m racist and I just don’t know it, based only on how you perceive my skin color, I want to unleash the gates of hell on your arrogant, supercilious, woke asses!

Don’t talk to me about privilege. The mere fact that you feel yourselves qualified to tell me what is in my heart and make assumptions based on nothing but my light skin is the height of privilege!

And speaking of privilege, you tone-deaf fuckwits…

Don’t you EVER tell those who condemn looting and destruction of property that their priorities are out of whack!

Some of these people worked their entire lives to open a small business and achieve the American dream!

Some of these people have scrimped and saved and toiled long hours and weekends to create enterprises that would bring jobs and in-demand products to their communities. They have worked to improve the communities in which they live, and you arrogantly wave your woke, white little hands and tell them they don’t matter?

Eat a bag of syphilitic dicks, you privileged, entitled hemorrhoids!

Some of these people have lost their only sources of income to looting pieces of garbage, who celebrate loss and destruction of the achievements they couldn’t hope to attain, who squeal with glee as they steal from their fellow man, and who run victory laps as they watch the loving fruits of others’ labor go up in smoke!

Some of these people are minorities, who have struggled their entire lives to crawl out of the hole in the face of seemingly insurmountable challenges, and you don’t think their losses matter?

Fuck you, white people! Seriously, go sell your pathetic virtue elsewhere.

Small businesses, book stores, restaurants… these aren’t just property. They are the physical manifestation of the blood, sweat, and tears that created them. They are the embodiment of effort, sleepless nights, and sacrifices of the people who grew these establishments with their love and dedication, and who lost everything.

How DARE you take a shit on their efforts! How DARE you minimize their losses, you heartless, clueless shit weasels!

It is the height of privilege to pompously claim that their losses do not matter, and yet here you are, woke white people, lecturing people who lost their life’s work about what is REALLY important.

“Oh, they have insurance. They’ll be reimbursed,” you titter.

Here, you know what? Let me shoot you in the leg. Let me saw your arm off. You have medical insurance. You’ll be covered. Right, you overbearing cockwombles?

Are you assuming that all business owners are white, and therefore their losses mean less?

Are you assuming that only white people like you have lost their livelihoods, and that somehow that makes them less important?

Will you assume that my losses – despite being a minority female – matter less because my skin is lighter?

Let me tell you something, woke white people – the only racists here are you.

And frankly I’m tired of being lectured about my supposed privilege by woke cuntshoes who think that if they despise themselves hard enough, violent savages will spare them.

My silence is not “complicit” anything. My silence is me sitting in horror watching entitled minorities scream that they deserve special consideration by virtue of their color or their background, while woke white people obsequiously tell them how right they are and lick their shoes to show off their wokeness.

I am a minority. I am a woman. And I abhor all of you woke white people – silently, but with every fibre of my being.

Marta Hernandez,

Proud minority who will not allow her skin to define her.

Featured photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons; licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.