Unless you have been living under a rock, at this point, you are aware that obscure “Empire” actor and self serving pathological liar Jussie Smollett has been charged with faking a completely implausible “hate crime” to garner up support and sympathy in a pathetic attempt to advance his career.
I don’t have much commentary to offer up on the subject, because it’s already been covered extensively on here, and although I think this guy is a self-serving piece of shit, I really don’t have much to say outside of that.
But you know who does have some enlightening commentary on the whole mess? Everyone’s favorite 300 pounds (plus?) of raunchy racism and freeloading, Didi Delgado!
Looking as entitled and ratchet as ever, Ms. Delgado.
Does her reaction surprise anyone? Of course she’d be a fan of blatantly lying to the police to stoke racial tensions and create a narrative of false victimization. People like Jussie and Didi use social justice outrage as currency. It takes a special kind of scum to monetize suffering without actually really, well, suffering.
And Didi is still making her living in this manner, day in, and day out.
Oh yeah, Didi. You’re looking really marginalized, all right. All those dinners out, parties, vacations and clothes really has an air of “crushed by the oppressive fist of the White Man”.
It’s uncanny how her life looks so much like “privilege”, isn’t it? But go ahead, homegirl, keep praising the blatant lies and complete misuse of police resources made by another affluent race baiting attention whore. It’s not like the police could have better spent their time assisting other, real victims or anything. It’s also not like you actually stand for real victims, anyway. She’s still out here, begging for money and gifts for herself
While traveling to Cuba
And the Bahamas,
But tell me again about your disenfranchisement? I mean this, I want to hear all about it, you fucking fraud. Nearly two years later and here you are, still stuck on stupid. I’m not allowed to say that, though, because by her standards, a white middle class woman as myself has no right. By my standards she can go fuck herself with a splintered broomstick.
Didi will tell you that I – as a white woman who disagrees with her bullshit, self-serving rhetoric – have a voice that needs to be silenced. That I don’t understand the struggle of a “queer, non-male black” or whatever social justice word salad she puts together in between dropping her Pay Pal link and wish lists. And you know what? I absolutely do not. But I do know a lot about struggle, and living in the margins. I know a lot about the path to empowerment, and it doesn’t entail using your status as a victim as a form of social entitlement.
I was raised by an alcoholic single father, white, but definitely not wealthy. I missed that part of my white privilege package. My formative years were dominated by the byproducts of an addiction I had no understanding of, or control over. My skin color didn’t give me any overt advantage in my rough start.
By 16 I was out of my father’s house and on my own, by 18 I was a mother with very little understanding of what that really meant. My life was marked by abject poverty.
I married a man who made the local newspapers, more than once, for beating me, sometimes within an inch of my life. I spent five very long years trapped in a cycle of regular physical, verbal and emotional abuse, completely isolated from the outside world. And when I decided enough was enough, it wasn’t my whiteness that saved me, nor handouts from kind strangers.
I struggled, quietly, privately. My status as a “victim” didn’t elevate me at any juncture, and it’s not something I often discuss, nor it is something I go to any great lengths to hide. I had no choice in the circumstances I was born in to, and that doesn’t make me special. It makes me entirely ordinary. Swiftly and decisively, it became vital to my own survival, and that of my children, for me to learn the most important lesson I have ever learned – although we cannot control the circumstances to which we are born, we can control the outcomes. Believing anything else is just perpetuating the cycle of misplaced victimhood. I will stand by that until the day I die. Each challenge I have overcome over the last ten years of my life have galvanized me into the woman who I am today. I define myself not by my race, or gender, or the obstacles I have faced. I am defined by what I learned in facing them. This also does not make me special, and I spend every day of my life acutely aware of it.
That’s true empowerment, seeing the world as anything but insurmountable, despite the odds you may face. Understanding that you are no more or less deserving than anyone else walking around. My voice does matter, because I fought for it. I haven’t asked for anything that I have from anyone – my home, my career, my family or my voice – despite being an impoverished, female, domestic violence survivor – I fucking earned them for myself. It wasn’t easy, and I have never done anything perfectly. But at the end of the day what I’m left with belongs solely to me, with no strings or debt attached to it.
You see, those of us who have known true suffering and despair know something that the Didi Delgados and the Jussie Smolletts could never, ever, possibly know. Anything tangible given to you, can be taken away. Banks can repossess houses and cars, money can be squandered or stolen. But no one can ever fucking take away the fire that is lit within you when you refuse to submit to the struggle. You can’t lose the confidence and skills that facing each and every hardship life throws at you head-on invariable gifts you. The power that comes from self-reliance, and struggle, is something I am grateful for every day. And for someone like me, who spent so many years truly powerless, that is more valuable than anything money can buy. This is NOT empowerment:
This is demeaning. This is what it looks like to subliminally tell someone, “You are not capable, you are not strong. You are a victim. That is your worth, that is your currency.” It’s not. You can give Anon, Jessi and Zee a million dollars in “reparations” meant to pay back some sort of injustice they weren’t even alive to experience, and you still will be fucking them out of the most valuable commodity the struggle has to offer. There is no white privilege or black disadvantage anymore – there’s life. And life is a cruel, arbitrary lottery that truly is colorblind. I don’t waste my time ruminating on all the ways life may have fucked me. I accept responsibility for every time I’ve fucked myself. I don’t accept the victim card as a valid form of currency. And I refuse to accept it from some jet setting hog who chooses to remain so fucking powerless that she can’t even figure out to how get her own child from behind a locked door without the help of the entire internet and some guy that she will undoubtedly degrade in a future post to further her insane intersectional feminazi agenda.
I know I may be a white woman, Didi, but maybe you should drop me a line sometime. I could teach you how to remove and change out a door knob. It’s one of the many, many skills I picked up by accepting responsibility for my circumstances and learning how to overcome them. If not for your doorknob, though, I’d love to hear your perspective on this. Maybe you know something that I don’t, and I’m fairly certain that I know several things that you don’t. If you can convince me that my take on your existence is fatally flawed, I’ll happily spare you my commentary on your suffering-for-cash racket for the rest of both of ours lives. Or maybe, just maybe, we could find some common ground.
But in the case your reaction to my assessment is as predictable as your reaction to Jussie Smollett’s racket, let me just take a minute to gently remind you,
Your propensity for needless, petty public shaming far surpasses me. And my God, is that a feat.