How I became a racist
Or what happened after I published my first-ever article on the origins of wokeness.
No, it isn’t clickbait — it is a genuine title to indicate the frank honesty of this story.
The story of what happened after I published my article on the intellectual origins of wokeness.
Vitriolic emails hit my email box. They rechoched like bullets of the pavement.
I’ve been writing for a long time. I once lost a job because of, at least in part, the words I wrote.
But I’ve never yet been on receiving end of such malice.
This is my response
First — I am not a racist. Never have been and never will be. Irrespective of who, when, and how someone tries to convince me that I am or label me as such.
No.
I understand that you can choose to think that regardless of what I say.
I have no problem with that. On the contrary, my whole life, I have believed and upheld Voltaire’s wisdom — I may not agree with what you have to say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.
I only wish you would adopt the same. Only a wish. Because it is not up to me to convince you of the value of it. I am not responsible for what…
