“You are not special.”

Someone recently sent me this screen cap of something one of my un-friended family members shared to her Facebook page. She is my aunt on my paternal side. Her feed is endless selection of Trump supporting, Blue Lives Matter bullshit. The obsession with spending time finding and sharing this shit is enormously wasted on these people.

This is a family member who shared it. I share their heritage and last name, albeit abbreviated with her married name. The red I saw after reading it was the brightest, laser light show beaming erratically through the interior of my brain.

The meme reads:

“White slaves were sold for centuries. Our ancestors took slaves, sold slaves or were slaves. You are not special. Black people owned and sold slaves. Asian people, native people and Middle Eastern people owned and sold slaves. EVERYONE’s ancestors participated in slavery, it wasn’t exclusive to white people. Stop trying to make people feel guilty for things they didn’t do.”

You are not special.

You.

Are.

Not.

Special.

Despite a lifetime of people in churches claiming that Christ’s followers are special. That being a child of God is the most special level of special ever, ions of pointing out how special everyone is in the eyes of God … now the message is “you are not special.”

That alone should cause pause before sharing this utter shameful racist anti-humanity, unempathetic, bumper sticker logic of insurmountable disturbing ignorance.

One can read all kinds of myth debunking on the topic of White Slaves. If search engines aren’t your jam, go to a goddamned library. Here’s another article rich with citations that can be reviewed at your leisure.

What I’m assuming my Aunt is latching on to is the biblical history of Jewish slaves by Egyptians that they claim is a historical fact in the Bible. The dreaminess of also sharing a history of oppression with the lineage of Biblical Judaism that led to Christianity … that makes the Black Slave Trade just another form of locker room talk, nonsense, ballyhoo.

I love the Bible.
I descended from Adam and Eve.
Joseph is in the lineage of Adam and Eve.
Jews are in the lineage, and they were forced to work for Pharaoh.
So my great great great great great great great great great great x 10 grandfather and grandmother suffered until God introduced Moses to Pharaoh. And when God murdered the first born of all the Egyptians, only after plaguing their land with all kinds of bloody water and pestilence, Pharaoh said, “Fine. Leave.”

It is an incredible display of ignorance because I’m assuming my aunt thinks these Jewish people from the Middle East were “White.” Because she’s white. Really white. Like blindingly white. Like when the sunshines on her, she could blind all who look upon her. And if you get eye contact, you’ll turn to sand or something.

I recently went to a garage sale by my parents house. The owners of the home were black. And they seemed religious, because they had religious art on the walls and on plates. There was a Mary and Jesus painting, but they were black. There was a crucifix, but Jesus was black. Hell, there was even a black Santa.

Some people inherently alter history to fit their skin color’s narrative. I want my Jesus to be Puerto Rican. I want my Jesus to be Ethiopian. I want my Jesus to be my skin color, or else I won’t love him like I should.

The rich, despicable history of black slave ownership in America is just a short conversation away. We have living black people who share stories of black oppression by the hands of law enforcement. Unfair treatment, because of the color of their skin.

I know this person named Amber, who visited her friends in Chicago. She was goofing around as she and her white friends were on their way to a restaurant. They were in a car waiting for her down an alley. And the distance to them was pretty vast. So instead of walking, jogging, crawling or sprinting to the car, she decided to skip. Along came a police car, he slammed his brakes, got out, and through her over the front his car. It wasn’t until her white friends emerged that the cop softened and let her go. There was no reason other than skin color for his behavior.

And it happens all the fucking time.

Black people aren’t screaming about slavery only. It’s a modern level of mistreatment, distrust, arrests, devaluing.

So I guess my aunt is right. “You are not special.” Not to Christians. White Christians do not value that finding out for themselves, from real bonefide black people what it’s like to be a black person in America.

White people are simply not educating themselves with honorable information. They do not strive for excellence. They are making assumptions that their history somehow gives them the right to hashtag #metoo.

You are not special.

You are not special.

I can’t believe that this is what is being communicated to anyone.

Get it out of your head that somehow you’re being mistreated.

I’m ashamed to share a last name with this level of bullshit.

I once had a conversation with someone about Joseph. She said that a situation she was in made her look up to her friend Joseph. “Who?”

She said, “Joseph from the Bible. It’s like I know him and his story gives me strength.”

Holy shit.

Joseph. Talking about a dude in the Bible like he’s your best friend.

Who was this Joe? He was the 11th son of a preacher man. Just kidding. He was Jacob and Rachel’s son. Jacob’s name would change to “Israel.” But that’s another story.

Joseph’s half brothers hated him, because their father loved him so much he had a beautiful technicolor coat made just for him so that a musical could later be written in his honor.

Jealousy plagued the brothers. They wanted to kill him. But instead, they sold him into slavery. They killed a goat, spilled its blood on the colorful coat, brought it to their dad and said “Joe Joe is dead, pop.” The dad wept. The sons felt a tinge of guilt and then hired hookers to assuage their guilt.

In slavery, Joey boy was was tempted with sexual impropriety, won the challenge, was thrown into prison because of it, then magically interpreted dreams the Pharaoh had and was instated as the second most powerful man in the land. During a famine, his brothers unknowingly knock on his door because he held the power to distribute socialized grain from the till of dream inspired prophecy. You see one of the Pharaoh’s indecipherable dreams that Joe interpreted was that seven fecund farming years would be followed by seven years of drought.

This knowledge saved the land from utter destruction, because they planned for the future. Magic dreams.

This story embodies the cyclical nature of Biblical stories that some people love so much. The favorite of the father must suffer, perform miracles, raise to the throne or damned close to it, or rise to become the top leader, and lead people to God’s promises. The story then gets drab and boring. The people lose sight of God and a leader brings them back. Over and over and over. This was the formula for story telling.

I’ve heard liberal pastors explain that the story of Jesus is just a retelling of every story in the Bible that preceded it. Given that info, it makes Jesus not so special, you know?

But it also explains why my friend claimed Joseph as a friend. A real friend whose story gave her strength. It showed that bad things may happen to you, but faith in God will eventually put you at the tippy top of your class, if only you wait long enough. That wait might be till your deathbed.

But that’s slavery in the mind of the ignorant. Keep God in your heart and you will rise from the dead.

You are not special.
I am special.

So get your head out of your ass, accept Jesus, don’t do drugs, eschew jobs that don’t pay you enough, pray harder, because then you’ll rise from slavery, just like my friend Joe, my friends Moses, Joshua, Samson. And Noah. Don’t forget old Noah. Oh God, what about David. He killed the giant. Because the little man is just a mindset.

From my white people throne, I beseech you, do not think you’re special because I share your slavery heritage. Mine happened in a story book. You might think 150 years is somehow not that long ago. And a healthy population of people still carrying a flag that represents the slave era, waving it proud, and ridiculing the idea that blacks aren’t worthy or special … yeah, that’s going to fix the problems.

I got my aunt a card. And if I mail it now, it might get to her by Christmas.

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