Clapback Mailbag: Explain Yourself

Our weekly response to emails, DMs, messages and comments from our readers.

If you’re ever feeling overwhelmed, try singing this song to the tune of “My Favorite Things”:

Caucasian commenters who whitesplain racism
Anonymous emails with the n-word right in them.
whatabout-isms and flavorless wings
These are a few of whites’ favorite things.

“One of my best friends” is Black, “I voted for Obama,”
Forgetting to mention their MAGA grandmama
Quoting the founders and Martin Luther King
These are a few of whites’ favorite things.

“Not all white people…” and Black crime statistics
Retweeting that slavery has always existed
They don’t see color, except whiteness and green
These are a few of whites’ favorite things

When I get DMs
from Europeans
Telling me why they’re mad
I save it for Fridays and then I respond
In the Clapback Mailbag!

This week’s article on Donald Trump’s federal appropriations proposal prompted a number of replies on social media:

A Wish List For White Supremacy: 10 Ways Trump's Budget Will Hurt Black America

From: StopBotheringme

"Black" businesses easily get loans every day from normal lenders. Same as businesses owned by anyone else. And a race hustler like you should appreciate no tracking of hate crimes, since blacks commit far more than those of which they are victims.

You remind me of someone.

From: T-Shirt Magee

water is a city utilitie. I love how black run cities let their water system goes to shit from gross mismanagment, and its the white mans fault.

because the white man didnt think he had to look over the black mans shoulder to make sure he dont fuck it up. well, yall fucked it up

Here’s why these people are wrong:

• 52% of hate crimes are motivated by racial or ethnic bias.

• Whites commit 64% of the hate crimes where the race of the offender is known.

• The city with the cleanest water has a Black mayor. The second cleanest, too.

• Of the nine officials indicted on criminal charges for the water crisis in Flint, Michigan, seven were white.

• Jackson, Mississippi’s first Black mayor took office in 1997, after white flight changed the city’s demographics. His first act was to commission a study that ultimately discovered that the white political structure had left the water system in disrepair.

• Researchers conducted a study where Black and white business owners applied for loans at 52 banks. The Black owners had “better profiles (greater business income, more years in operation, more money in the bank and higher credit scores,” but “were offered a business line of credit (BLOC) significantly less often than white testers.”

When I pointed out to these facts to these people individually, the responses were all similar to this one:

From: Stopbotheringme

Bullshit study. The biggest problem with banks today is that they are so heavily regulated they do NOT use discretion, but rather run a bunch of numbers and let some model make the decision for them. Too many supposed academics start with conclusion and then manufacture facts.

I was not surprised. In fact, this part of the mailbag is not even about those ignoramuses. It is about an entirely different comment:

Dear Brian:

You are correct.

Although I do not consider myself an intellectual, I know that there is absolutely nothing I can do to convince a white supremacist that whiteness is not supreme. In general, I believe that trying to justify my humanity to white people is a fruitless endeavor. Over the years, I have learned that when you expose dumb people to facts, they revert to one of three irrational replies:

1. “That’s what they want you to believe.”

2. “Although I don’t have a scintilla of evidence, data or research to back up my claim, I’m still right.”

3. “So?”

To be clear, this pattern is not exclusive to the Caucasian immune system. It is a common theme among many self-important pseudo-intellectuals. Most of these people have no interest in the truth or being correct; they are only interested in winning the argument. But here’s why I think it is important to dispel these myths:

Big Cooter.

Big Cooter was the Deebo of my neighborhood. He wasn’t necessarily a bully, but he was built like one. He walked around with a scowl on his face, and everyone knew he was invincible. He patrolled Butler Street, which was also the location of the neighborhood store with the best candy selection. To get to my family’s church, I could either walk down the street that Cooter patrolled or take the long way around.

I always took the long way around.

One summer, when my cousin Eric from out of town was visiting, we went to church. By the time church was over, it was 198 degrees outside and, because we were dressed in 17-piece suits, Eric insisted that we take the shortcut home. Unwilling to admit my fear and confident that Jesus would protect his teenage servants, I agreed. As we walked through the valley of the shadow of Cooter, I heard a voice from behind yelling at us to stop.

It was Cooter.

In fact, it was Cooter’s entire crew of preteen thugs. They jogged to reach us and nodded toward the Butler Street store. “Get me a Peach Nehi and two packs of NowLaters,” he said.

I understood that this was Cooter’s not-so-subtle extortion technique, which went over my cousin’s head “We ain’t going to the store,” Eric explained calmly. “We’re coming from church.”

Cooter was confused. In his mind, he was being nice to us. As he tried to figure out what to do next, one of his minions interjected: “Oh, you’re trying to fight Cooter?” he said, laughing. “In those shoes?”

Eric immediately recognized what was happening and began taking off his suit jacket. “I guess,” he said casually, slowly folding his best church coat as if he worked at a dry cleaners (his mom actually worked at a dry cleaners). When I tried to warn Eric about Cooter’s prowess as a pugilist, my cousin smiled nonchalantly and said: “Don’t worry about me; worry about my jacket.”

Eric whipped Cooter’s ass.

He didn’t knock him out or anything; Cooter just had a little blood on his lip and my cousin’s shirt. Cooter claimed he had slipped but everyone who witnessed the Butler Street Brawl agreed that Cooter had lost — especially when my cousin slipped his blazer back on and noted mockingly:

“Jacket still clean though.”

By the end of the summer, the word had spread that my cousin had beat Cooter’s ass while wearing a three-piece suit and Stacy Adams. For the rest of the summer, we took the shortcut to church and enjoyed some of the finest penny candies that Butler Street had to offer. Even after my cousin left, I continued to walk down that street.

I realized that the Cooter vs. cousin melee was the first time I had ever seen Cooter fight; I had only heard that he could fight. In fact, he wasn’t even that much bigger than I was. Sure, he was a little taller than I was and weighed a few more pounds, but I had fought bigger guys. I realized that it wasn’t his size or his ability that intimidated everyone. He just benefited from the belief in his superior fighting skills. If I ran into Cooter after that day, he would just nod and say: “What’s up Mikey?”

For too long, white people have controlled the narrative about Black people. Not only have they convinced themselves of their own supremacy, but they have also bullied us into avoiding confrontation. We might not believe in their mythology, but by not dismantling the narrative and avoiding the confrontation, we allow the mythology that benefits them to persist. And, as one Pulitzer Prize-winning intellectual said:

“Sometimes you have to pop out and show Cooters.”

There are a lot of struggling Black business owners who see white businesses flourishing and believe the white boys have great credit. There are a lot of Black people who think their cities don’t deserve clean drinking water. There are preachers and Black leaders who think their neighborhoods will be safe if they focus on Black-on-Black crime. Even those who don’t accept the anti-Black rhetoric avoid confronting the bullies who perpetuate these racist narratives because they have never seen anyone defeat the racist bullies.

I have.

I have no interest in trying to stop dumb racist bullies from being racist bullies. I am not trying to change white people’s minds or prove my humanity. Perhaps I’m not an intellectual. Maybe responding to dumb people is a waste of time.

Jacket still clean, though.

Of course, the story on David Hogg generated a lot of varied opinions.