Sometimes when I read a racially tinged article in mainstream media, I switch the words around to see how it plays. For example, let’s just go to the title of this piece, and see how would it sound if it were switched to this:

Can My Children Be Friends With Black People?

If a person of pallor titled something like that, I’m confident that there would be demonstrations outside the front door of NYT HQ, with good reason. Let’s try this paragraph on for size:

It is impossible to convey the mixture of heartbreak and fear I feel for him [his son]. Donald Trump’s election has made it clear that I will teach my boys the lesson generations old, one that I for the most part nearly escaped. I will teach them to be cautious, I will teach them suspicion, and I will teach them distrust. Much sooner than I thought I would, I will have to discuss with my boys whether they can truly be friends with black people.

Richard Spencer couldn’t have phrased it any better. Here’s another one.

As against our gauzy national hopes, I will teach my boys to have profound doubts that friendship with black people is possible. When they ask, I will teach my sons that their beautiful white hue is a fault line. Spare me platitudes about how we are all the same on the inside. I first have to keep my boys safe, and so I will teach them before the world shows them this particular brand of rending, violent, often fatal betrayal.

I’m sure Mr. Yankah was trying to opine about Trump and racial polarization, but racist is racist, and Yankah resorted to judging people by their color of their skin. I suspect that Mr. Yankah would like to apply a racist test on Trump supporters, that if you’ve voted for Trump, you’re suspected as racist by default, without even considering that many people pulled the lever for Trump because they honestly believed Hillary was a vile, worse choice. For a palate cleanser, Twitchy has some choice responses, and here’s my favorite.


The reason why Reverend King’s famous speech was so profound, IMO, was that he spoke to all parties, about truth and justice and the need to unite. To white people, he had a dream that his kids would be judged by their character, not skin color. To descendants of American slaves, he said this:

But there is something that I must say to my people, who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice: In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline.

As I see it,  Mr. Yankah took a long draught from a keg of bitterness and hatred before penning his little diatribe.