The Naked Truth Is…

Donald Trump Is A Racist. Donald Trump Is A Racist. Donald Trump Is A Racist.

#TheNakedTruth

I hear you asking: Why did I bare everything to send you this message?

Well, I recorded this without much forethought after watching a video by the brilliant columnist for The New York Times, Charles M. Blow.

On the morning of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, he spoke on Twitter about people who refuse to call out racism when they see it. This is not to say Mr. Blow inspired me to take my clothes off! Yes, he’s gorgeous, but, no, he didn’t.

I chose to do this for one simple reason, and it’s to send a message that is both succinct and visually clear, without any distraction:

Donald Trump is a racist.

If you already know the tale of The Emperor’s New Clothes, then let’s skip right to the moral of the story: all it takes to call out a lie, to expose a fraud, and to take down a king, is for one honest individual with no preconceptions to speak out.

Let’s stop pretending we don’t know exactly what the president is, why his message resonates so strongly with some Americans, and how he gets away with it.

It is because there are too few people willing to risk everything to call him out. With this, I leave no doubt where I stand, and make no presumptions about the potential fallout. You see me here totally unguarded. I am giving you my plain, honest and unvarnished perspective.

Donald Trump is a racist.

CNN

Now, even with all the much-needed efforts to empower women lately, and not treat us as sex objects serving only to please men, there are unfortunately some folks who will only focus on the fact my video reveals part of a woman’s nude body, even if it is just for ten seconds. So, I repeat myself in the video.

Hey! Eyes up here! 

Did you miss what I said? Donald Trump is a racist. I am being as transparent as I can here.

That’s a pun, of course.

IMG_8110Apologies if the pendant is also a distraction; I wear it only because I am rarely seen without it. This was a gift from a longtime friend, and its symbols will be familiar to many: male and female, intertwined. It signifies I am transgender, and my very existence and that of women like me is threatened each and every day because of who we are.

After an impossibly horrible year, the first month of 2018 is only at the midway point, and already two trans women have been murdered: one in Southern California and another in New England. I won’t even try to compare the suffering of our tiny community to that of the generations of victims of rampant institutional and individual racism. But we can say that for each instance of these outrageous kinds of human behavior, it is the fear of something different, something other, that fuels hate, violence and oppression. And I will not be silent as it continues.

I may not do more than make a spectacle of myself in sharing this video, and I am willing to accept this risk.

Or, perhaps I will show that there is no justification for accommodation, no reason to cloak the obvious fact that we have as our elected leader of these United States a man who is a proven, unrepenting, lying, undeniable racist.

That’s the naked truth.

Oh, and please note: I usually wear pajamas to bed.

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Dawn Ennis is a journalist, a blogger at lifeafterdawn.comHuffPost and Medium, and the host of a talk show on YouTube: “RiseUP With Dawn Ennis.” 

She got her start in New York City working behind the scenes at CNN. Ennis wrote and produced for CBS, NBC, and ABC News, and has also worked as a manager at TV stations across the country. 

Ennis was America’s first transgender journalist in a TV network newsroom when she came out 4 and a half years ago, and started a new career as an online journalist and independent video producer.

She is a widow who does the job of mom for three children who call her “Dad.” They reside in Connecticut with their cat, Faith. 

Stop. Look. Listen.

Stop Look Listen copy

This morning, shortly after I woke up, I posted some “New Rules,” a la Bill Maher, but not to support him, rather to match my own thinking… and I’d like to expand upon one in particular before I turn in.

This new rule is something I myself have worked to fully incorporate into my life both online and in the real world, and I am making strides but it’s not something I think I will ever say, “Ah, well, cross that one off the list; it’s done.”

Here it is:

STOP.

I am a woman of white privilege, and no matter how hard I try — and I do — I’ll never, ever, EVER be able to grasp what it means to live as a black person in America. Or any person of color. Especially not a trans person of color. Especially not a trans woman of color.

My new rule of “STOP” means this: when a person of color shares with you their experience, and what life decisions they make accordingly, do not judge them and add your two cents — about anything.

STOP.

Even if you struggle, too.

Even if you disagree or have another point of view.

Even if your first thought is, “well, from my perspective…”

STOP.

What every single white person I know does is immediately think, “that’s not my experience.” I do it, too. And what should, in my opinion, happen next, is for us to go:

“Hmmm.”

Silently.

Think on it. Ponder. Share. Let your action be to raise up the voice of someone who doesn’t have your privilege. Not to point out the difference between us.

‘Cuz I’ve learned one thing: they already know the difference. There is no need nor any point to be made.

And to those who dismiss someone using the term “violence” to describe how someone feels when they are oppressed, even though it may be verbal or through an action not typically associated with physical violence, I encourage you to take the time to understand and grow, rather than reject out of hand something that does not come from your experience.

STOP. LOOK:

“It’s oppression on top of oppression to dictate how oppressed people should rebel.” — Unknown.

The thing I’m talking about here is intersectionality. As Sherry Hamby wrote:

“The burden of violence and victimization remains markedly unequal. The prevalence rates, risk factors, and consequences of violence are not equally distributed across society. Rather, there are many groups that carry an unequal burden, including groups disadvantaged due to race, ethnicity, socioeconomic status, sexual identity, place of residence, and other factors.”

It must STOP.

I do not write this to rant or pontificate but to raise up the voices of others. I’m not going to name names, but when I tried to share one person’s insight and solicited the thoughts and comments of my friends, that person fled, feeling attacked. She told me she felt victimized by violent and racist comments.

Not one of you will agree that your comments were racist.

Not one of you will agree that your comments were violent.

Not one of you will agree that you attacked her.

STOP. LOOK. LISTEN:

The point is not whether you intended to be racist, to be violent, to attack someone. Perception is reality. And I can see how these comments hurt her, but I was powerless to add my voice to support her because before I could notice there was an assault on her, she withdrew the post I had shared from my wall, blocked those of you who offended her, and blocked me from seeing it now. That is her right; it’s hers, and she felt attacked, and is justified in responding to those attacks as she sees fit.

I did see at one point the accusation that she played “the race card.” Several folks said to me that she “introduced” race into the conversation, and that you didn’t see it as an issue of race.

And let me just point out to you one thing each of you who said that to me share: every one of you, including me, is white. To sum up, the black woman said she felt the comments were racist, and the white women and men told her, “it’s not racism.”

Privilege conceals itself from those who have it.”Jarune UwujarenJamie Utt, Everyday Feminism.

There is no “race card.” Race is not something you get to deal, or fold, or shuffle so that you wind up with a better hand. It’s not the same as gender, because even though most of us are stuck with whatever we’re dealt, at least we who are transgender are at long last able to tell the dealer they made a mistake. It doesn’t improve our hand all that much, but

I can only imagine what it is like to be both transgender and a member of a race that is oppressed. What I am learning is to not judge, and to listen instead of speak.

And that, in my opinion, is a good place to start.