White people are

suddenly faced with the reality  

that their lives are average.  

There’s literally nothing 

extraordinary. 

  

The truth is 

sickening. 

Painful. 

Mind-erasing. 

Soul-crushing. 

  

There’s competition and— 

and I really think—that 

people would rather see lives 

of ease and happiness, having had 

The American dream. To have a childhood, 

for example. 

  

In America, we say  

“Work hard for your successes.” 

But there are blacks 

earning their wealth. 

  

Yes, that’s right. 

Blacks and browns and yellow and dusty and dusky are doing things 

The American Way. 

  

How’s that for crushing, 

confronting your faults again and again? 

I’m not employable. I’m useless. It’s true, 

anyone could do this job—you’re the 

least of all anybodys. 

  

How’s that for yeah, your life doesn’t matter. 

  

You could have been an impact. 

You could have been a catalyst. 

Instead you prouded yourself on your self-importance.