Narishkeit pt. 2!

Revision on my blog-

I may be a racist; Tiffany may be one too. I think my main point is that I don't really care for that word. In my head, a racist is someone that carries hate and I never never want to be labeled as that person. I have been thinking about this a lot lately, and I can't quite decide what I want to believe. Several friends I grew up with are black and I never saw them as any different than myself. I'm the Jew. He's the black guy. She's the Hispanic girl. I grew up thinking we were all the same and I really don't care what you look like as long as you represent yourself neatly enough. (I know that may not make sense. If it doesn't, I can explain.)

After reading about Black English, I think I figured out my flaw. I was the one tagged as the presciptivist in the class, and this may just reaffirm this, but...I instantly judge people on the way they speak. Verbal skills may not be the first thing I notice, but it is usually the quality I remember the most. I prefer voices that are clear and carry an even tone. I may have mentioned that I do really love accents, but anytime an accent "clouds" language use, I inadvertently think less of the person.

I may not like it, but I admit it. :)

B.Knee