Not being middle-aged man enough

A news story last week was about a young college student who recently won the Miss Black pageant at the University of Texas.  Without time to bask in her sunshine or stew in her juices about winning, social media critics quickly started posting how she wasn’t “black enough.”

This young woman is what demographers classify as biracial; using middle-aged man street talk, her father is a “black dude” and her mother is a “white chick”.  Many among these demographic buckets would have harsher descriptions of her parents.  Ever listen to a black dude call another one a “nigga?”

In any event, many of us live and thrive in a world of these classifications as we strive to fit into those more closely aligning with how we see ourselves.  This is normal for the most part and a natural self-discovery we all go through in our search for who we are and who we want to be.

What’s not normal, natural or healthy is when others do it for us.  Like the government, with all its gender and ethnic descriptions they like to tally us into for macro-level information about who is America, and who isn’t.

And the media is also addicted to these classifications; they make great race-bait news stories that draw in readers and viewers to the nonsense they sometimes, others would say all the time, produce.

Like this news story mentioned above.  By covering this episode, they contribute to the great continental divide with certain ethnic, political and socio-economic factions on one side and their opponents on the other side.  It’s all part of a grand master-scheme that’s been around for a long time – conquer and divide, create oppression and the oppressed will be drawn toward your message of fix. 

And the result oftentimes is a collective mindset like those cruel social media posters who didn’t have it in themselves to congratulate this young woman as a symbol of America at its finest, a melting pot of so many interesting people under the sun, all one-of-a-kind blessings from an Almighty God.

This will never happen at Pierini Fitness, always a cyberspace sanctuary for all middle-aged men of the world.

You’ll never be described here as not being middle-aged man enough.

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum