Happy New Year! I realized I write a lot more on this blog than I thought I would, but then again, I commute a part-time job.
Maybe this is more of a public journal? Maybe it's more about someone who is growing up in a world where everyone else seems to be growing down.
The world around me seems to be growing down. People my age are becoming – or are claiming to become – less capable, not more.
When I was with my husband, I didn't grow either. I was pretty stagnant, I stayed 18 until I made it out. I don't think I learned a single thing in those years, about myself or the world (with the exception of when I left and started to listen to people like Professor Peterson). When I was finally free I started to soak up all the experiences I could find, good and bad. I felt like I was starving.
But people my age are starting to narrow their horizons. They don't want to take care of their own problems, their own trauma. They want everyone else to heal them, protect them, allow them to stay in these bubbles.
It's horrifying. It's frightening. It's how a country breaks. I love this country and everything it stands for, and people my age are starting to really frighten me.
So: they say, if you want to know who is in power in your country, find the people you aren't allowed to criticize. If you're in a very free country, like it's supposed to be, then there's no one you're not allowed to criticize. You're allowed to say that anyone is stupid if you want to.
In this country, you still are, but only certain ways.
For example, if I didn't like black people. I'm allowed to say it, legally, but I'm not allowed to act like it. Same with any minority group. I'm not allowed to refuse people jobs/housing/service if I don't like them.
By this time you've either started to think “Yeah I thought this was a free country,” or “Oh FFS she's pro-racism.”
All I'm trying to say is that affirmative action type laws are slippery slopes. I think we as a country should try our best to get over our differences and, when possible, celebrate them. I also think that it's not okay for the government to try to speed that process up by force.
Not because it's immoral, but for two reasons; A) it doesn't work. Taking money from a white person and giving it to a black person does not improve race relations or even the playing field. Money doesn't level a lot of playing fields. Money doesn't even level the financial playing field in most cases – because how much money you have is seldom by chance, and receiving more doesn't fix the habits you're in. All you accomplish is extending the welfare state and convincing everyone, both black and white, that black people can't take care of themselves. And B) it sets a precedent that the government should be a moral compass. Which it definitely shouldn't. It should not be that. And it sets a precedent that the government can take money away from someone. Which it definitely shouldn't.
If anything, the government throughout history is a good indicator of what you should not do.
I really think it would be better for minorities to work for what they have. I think it's best for everyone if everyone works for what they have. I really don't think the government should be your guardian.
Sure, of course, I might feel differently if I had it rough. But if I'd feel differently if I had it rough, you'd feel differently if you had a life like mine – steady job, not a lot of money but enough to get by, a family who is willing to help me out, a boyfriend who also has a stable job and is figured out and super talented – I mean I don't have everything but I have everything I need.
But there have been times when there's no money, when we've been a few months behind on rent and there's no money to for anything for Christmas, but that's when I turned to my family. Asked for a raise at work, or looked for an extra job (begged my husband if we could move somewhere smaller for less money, etc.)
But I didn't ask the government for a dime. Because it's not the government's dime. It's my neighbors, my fellow countrymen. They don't owe me anything, nor I them. Even when my husband asked me to apply for assistance – it felt wrong and I didn't do it.