The Loneliness of Being too Liberal and Privileged to Join the Revolution
If there were to be an actual revolution in this country, I'm concerned that neither side would have me as a soldier.
Certainly not the alt-right. I'm a (non-denominational, recovering) Jew who is pro-LGBTQ rights and pro-equal wages for women, I've marched for Black Lives Matter and I respect and support good cops and fair, true justice, and I'm married to an out and proud liberal feminist. I don't see the how flying the Confederate Flag is a sign of American pride and I think Ann Coulter is the only thing Satan is afraid of.
One would think I'd fit better on the other team. But I'm a white, cisgender male. I am the left-progressive's Public Enemy #2 right behind orange, cisgender males. My chants would have no meaning because of my privilege. Privilege prevents me from having understanding and empathy. My picket signs would be mansplaining. My cries to fight the enemy would be viewed as offensive hate speech because the word fight might be a trigger word.
The last year has shown that I am not wanted by either side and that I don't want to be a part of either side. If we have a revolution like the one that these protests may be gearing up for, I will be a revolutionary without a home.
Unless, of course, we can have a true revolution. The kind where we all—all of us on each side—throw out everything we consider as what must be absolute. And I mean everything. All the bath water, the baby and the shit the baby crapped out in the tub. Because both sides are wrong, our current desires are flawed. They're what gave us Trump and Clinton. They're what gave us marginalization and polarization. They're what made the word privilege a trigger word. And if that's acceptable to anyone then that's who I want to revolt against because that person is the problem.
So, who's with me?
