Exposing the ‘Kens’ of Society: What I Love About Trump

Trump is responsible for the ‘Me Too’ movement, the racial awakening, and yeah, he really can be credited with the popularization of Juneteenth.

When I first arrived in Seattle, I met another self-identifying multi-racial woman like me. Our major difference was the generational rift to which she claimed was the reason for my dinosaur-like inability to embrace “harmony” with all races. Our argument was so heated, it was close to the level of fisticuffs. Her point was that dinosaurs like me were the reason why race is still a topic in America. My inability to break the chains of my own perception is what made her ashamed — not racism — but others like me, older Black people that couldn’t give up ‘the cause’ for fear we’d lose our relevance.

Friendships have ended from these types of conversation. Micky, a White woman with racing flags tattooed on her chest, acknowledged that when she wears glasses she’s taken more seriously. Yet, she couldn’t acknowledge that racism still existed in 2004. When I asked her how she could believe that people respond differently to her different physical appearance with glasses but not believe that there was even a slight chance that my experience was grounded in a similar reality, her response was, “Because skin color is different. That’s like saying that you think that I must treat you differently as a friend because you’re Black.” My response, “Case in point, Micky, I’ve told you multiple times that I self-identify as multi-racial, but either society or your own pre-conceived notions continue to override not only my experience but also our friendship by safely categorizing me as something familiar, Black.”

There have been countless many of these conversations in my life, resurfacing from time to time.

And there’s Ken. Ken sticks with me more than the others. His presence in a dream woke me up at 3AM last night even though I haven’t seen or spoken to or had any kind of dependencies upon his existence in nearly a year. I initially grew close to Ken because of our logic-leaning like-mindedness. Though having completely disparate life experiences, our mutual bias toward Vulcan-like logic, made us both appreciate each other even more for our abilities to overcome our unique subjectivity.

Ken is a middle-aged White man whose demeanor can be summed up as ‘wannabe-rich-enough-to-one-day-be-Trump-like-in-his-unapologeticness,’ and for the sake of painting the picture, whose physical appearance was well on the way to being our president. As we gained each others’ trust, we often discussed the absurdity of our company’s D&I initiative. We agreed that it was obviously desperate, instigated by recent chastising articles, way too heavy-handed, and was just a slight step beyond the institution of PC-speak from the 90’s. I found it refreshing that a White man would finally be open enough to share this notion in a conversation with me. He found it refreshing that a Black woman could see the detriment and hypocrisy.

Then one day I shared more personal experiences with Ken. Ken, understanding that he had an open and non-judgmental audience shared that he believed that my viewpoint was a result of focusing too much on America’s negative history. He encouraged me to ‘overcome the chip on my shoulder about race’ because otherwise I’d ‘allow my imagination to create a racist world for me.’ When I shared this, he explained how having a Latinx wife gave him that insight…that he used to sit in a place of, “I don’t believe it, but who am I to judge their experience.” But now, living that reality through the eyes of his (White) Latinx wife and kids, he had “proof” that it’s a prison of our own making. I tried again to appeal to his logic, but the conversation ended with him saying, “Really, Cresta, as logical as you are, why can’t you see that YOU are self-perpetuating this racist reality?”

He went on to be one of 9 employees nominated for our newly formed D&I council. His fixed mindset would represent over 5,000 employees as they adapted diversity and inclusion training for the masses. While I have no issue with a differing opinion represented on the committee, I do take issue with having someone so closed-minded representing over 3,000 front line employees — a great percentage of whom are people of color being denied opportunities by people like Ken.

I think about people like Micky, and the party millennial, and Ken often these days. Do they think of me and our conversations? Can they read the news and still think it’s all in my head? Are they human enough to cast doubt on their previous convictions? Can they acknowledge that they cannot stand as judge to my experiences and perceptions of those experiences? After the massive-post-George Floyd-cultural-awakening, do they still think I was making it up? Did they even make room for the possibility that my thoughts had validity within their own perception of the world? Hell, I’ve wasted my time thinking about our conversations, do they think of them any differently in this post-Trump world?

My therapist insists that my ponderance on the matter is a sign that I’m not okay with myself. As much as I WANT to be okay with myself, how the hell can I be? A child that once didn’t see color (and yeah, my family is so mixed I really DIDN’T see color) was taught that the world sees her color in every step of every day after leaving the safety of her mother’s womb.

I’ve considered for many years that the racism was my own construct and sought therapy to try to cure myself of it. I let other opinions in — even the far-right racists. Hell, my own dad is conservative, I even tend to lean that way for many issues. Much of my family is racist enough to refer to me as ‘the little darkie,’ which I still consider a term of endearment (from them). But after 20 years of therapy and my own experiences as evidence, a tiny angry child boils within and thinks, who the kcuf are you to shit on my experiences when I’m expected to consider AND adopt yours?!

This angry id thinks of these previous conversations and wonders, in the post-Trump world, are my beliefs now vindicated? Do they see my point of view finally? Do they believe me? Hell, do they even think of me? I’ve wasted my time thinking about our conversations, do they think of them differently?

Then I remember that that’s the issue with oppression. I’ve begged for them to see me when I should know that the system has been set up so that they don’t… Or in some cases, won’t or even can’t. Ken had the same chance of understanding my life experience as I would a dolphin squeaking at me at Sea World. Yet, more kindness is given to the orcas and dolphins than to a fellow human? Instead of using the internet for self-lead history education that can help you understand your fellow Americans, you use it to deny the schism that separates us. You use it to make sure you don’t have to carry the shame of your decisions, your family’s decisions, or your ancestors’ decisions.

So, Kens, allow me to repaint a picture you probably missed.

Let’s Go on a Journey to Wakanda

If Africans had conquered Europe, perhaps we’d have chemicals that make straight hair kinky because THAT would be the acceptable standard of beauty. When White people showed up for work with straight hair, a manager would pull them aside to let them know that ‘at this company, we maintain a standard of professionalism’ they were not respecting by ‘their unkemptness.’ Perhaps that person would need to put their health at risk by soaking their hair in chemicals that most people wouldn’t let their pets near in order to make their hair kinky to be eligible for a job.

If Africans had conquered Europe, perhaps AAVE or Ebonics would be the standard to which we measure English-speakers, and candidates would have to code-switch into that dialect to be taken seriously.

If Africans had conquered Europe, perhaps poor White people would be the going memes of the day rather than poor Black people.

If Africans had conquered Europe, perhaps White people would be forced to learn our culture to succeed and then be penalized for not quite getting it right in corporate.

If Africans had conquered Europe, perhaps a colleague might ask, ‘where does the lighter the berry, the tarter the fruit’ come from, and that European descendent would be dismissed for being a rabble-rouser if he reported it to HR. Or maybe, White men’s progeny would be a delicacy that Black women enjoyed sampling for fun to entertain the daily gossip with friends. Or I’d touch your hair because I just don’t understand how something could be so straight and limp?

Perhaps people would profile Whites on the street and subconsciously pull their purses closer to them as a they pass. Or Booquisha Johnson would report Ken Pendleton for lurking in the sunlight when he’s just trying to go home. Even better, perhaps Booquisha just dismisses Ken’s résumé because it’s obvious that a person named ‘Ken’ couldn’t be qualified…and then created AI to sift through the résumés to shorten that process for her.

If Africans had conquered Europe, perhaps it would be the ‘AIDS crisis in Europe’ that everyone gawks at from afar but does nothing about. And we’d figure out a way to run technology on cheese rather than tantalum.

If Africans had conquered Europe, then I’d be able to say ‘Oh my goodness, you’re so well-spoken’ to a White person without a modicum of self-doubt. China would sell a lot of self-tanners and bronzers so that their skin could capture the sun rather than selling skin lightening cream to assimilate to the prevailing aesthetic.

If Africans had conquered Europe, perhaps we’d have Anubis, Anansi, and Ashanti, to pray to and we’d scoff at the unevolved idea of a single messiah. Mansions would be painted black like the night. Evil would be associated with the color white. Americans would look like me and the fairer folk would have to self-designate as Euro-American.

If Africans had conquered Europe, then all the privilege you take for granted would be reversed.

Kenny boy meets new world

Kens, how would you feel if this was your world? Did any of the above make you uncomfortable? I truly hope that all readers felt some discomfort in the topsy-turvy. That momentary discomfort is one that I wear daily through no fault of my own. I live it and drink it every day. Every. Single. Goddamned. Day.

And that’s exactly why I love Trump. Not only has it made most people in the United States experience a modicum of my lifelong discomfort, but it has compelled the more thoughtful citizens to examine that discomfort. Without Trump we wouldn’t be in the midst of a racial awakening in this country. The desperation expressed through protests and riots is directly connected to the pendulum having swung so far right.

Sadly, I’m relieved that America has finally been awakened to the travesties the Black community has silently suffered since Jim Crow. I’m ecstatic to see that people haven’t been completely lulled to sleep with the institutionalized complacency creators. I’m blissfully amazed that White people in Seattle are leading the charge. And I am thankful that Trump happened to us to make this my current reality.

Dreaming of Ken woke me up at 3AM and ruined my entire kcufing day. Yeah, no, totally ruined my entire day. Okay, so I allowed him to ruin my day (thanks, Margy). I sliced open my finger first thing in the morning and then worried that going to the ER put me at risk for ‘Rona, was so on edge that I yelled at my cats to the point where they BOTH hid their little heads under the rug trying to hide from crazy-mommy…I woke up as a raving lunatic. Yeah…I let Ken get under my skin so much that I needed to write this article.

I hate giving my power away to that extent, so I have to analyze it. Why am I allowing even the thought of Ken to keep me awake and affect my happiness so much? Because his anal-blister of a turd existence is the quintessential embodiment of all that’s wrong with America, and in turn the subconscious affirmation of my never-ending inequality here.

It was the Kens at my old workplace that successfully managed me out. The Kens never tried to understand my perspective and experience as a Black woman in Corporate America. Sure, they dotted their i’s and crossed their t’s enough to appear ‘corporate woke’, but we all knew that they weren’t. Kens are wolves hiding their shame by donning sheep’s clothing — Trump without the sociopathy. They’ve learned how to surreptitiously disrupt anything or anyone that is a threat to their tenuous hold on power. They speak of embracing fear. Rather, they’re fueled by it.

Kens are the yang to the Karens’ yin — interlocked, balanced, and perpetual in their entitled ineptitude. Kens don’t own the dreamhouse but are cast to play the ever-supportive role to Barbie (and Black Barbie). Ken never went to space. Ken didn’t surf his way to being a doctor and owning ponies.

Ken was the anatomically inadequate gremlin seething behind Barbie as she conquered the world alone.

Albeit not nearly as studly as their plastic counterparts, real-world Kens are still very upset about the girl-powerness of feminism. They never adapted to the new corporate mandate of equality. They’re the gents that complain about all of the D&I changes in your corporate environment. Accepting and integrating women into the workplace was nearly Ken’s undoing, but Black girl magic makes his head implode (unless it’s Black girl bedroom magic, of course).

Kens are the underbelly of America’s racism eking its venom into your company’s future success. They hide comfortably perched in middle management, waiting to swarm on the carcasses of successful careers left behind by the women more talented than them. And once they’ve used the talent up, and worn them out, they don sheep’s clothing to lure the next set of minority prey, ahem, candidates for the D&I cause.

For corporations truly attempting to revamp their culture to align with the future of diversity, equity, and inclusion, these are the secret lurkers responsible for your low diversity numbers and high Black and Latinx attrition. They make up the vast majority of your middle management and subsequently control the narrative for the entry-level minorities hoping to build a future with your company.

The Art of the Deal

Trump is responsible for the ‘Me Too’ movement, the racial awakening, and yeah, he really can be credited with the popularization of Juneteenth. Think about it…something is popular when it’s known by White America (not just any part of America.) While there are self-educating White-folk out there that learned about Juneteenth on their own, most of America doesn’t live on the coasts of our country. So, yeah, it’s because of his tweets that middle-America, and thusly most of America, ever googled ‘Juneteenth.’

I’m not saying that I at all agree with his politics or shady tactics, but I am saying that his idiocy has done more to highlight the cracks in America than I think any other 2016 candidate could have done. Would Hilary have done anything for Black rights? Would ‘Me Too’ have been swept under the rug to protect the illusion of female dominance? Or would it have been the same-old upholding of the status quo? The same selling of the White American Dream as one accessible to all?

These are truly the things I thought about in 2016. I was a die-hard Berner. I appreciated his awareness and subsequent chastisement and platform on correcting many of the wrongs in our political and judicial system. After the killings of Aiyana Jones, Sandra Bland, Trayvon Martin, Eric Garner, Kathryn Johnston, Sean Bell, Rekla Boyd, Kimani Grey, Kenneth Chamberlain, Tamir Rice, Freddie Gray and COUNTLESS others in the 2000’s alone, I was incredibly focused on voting in a way that benefitted ME the most (the way many of my White counterparts admitted to doing.) I supported the candidate that I felt truly intended to change this kcuffed up place called America that we pretend is a melting pot of equality. After Hilary stole the nomination, I had to ask myself, if Hilary is in power, will she do anything for Black equality?

It’s a valid question, especially since it can be argued that Clinton did more for Black America than Obama ever seemed to even consider. I thought about the many arguments I had with my own very conservatively voting Black father. When he voted for Bush the 3rd time, I argued with him so intently because I was so very ashamed. How does a Black man vote for Bush?

A Black man born in 1934, he gave me a history lesson on the 4th corner of The New Deal. “What’s the 4th corner of The New Deal?”

“Derp.”

“Civil rights. And that’s the one corner that was never achieved, and they skip over in your history class, but I remember. Democrats do a great job of playing to civil rights when they want the vote but have never followed through. As long as that strategy keeps them in power, why would they ever disrupt the paradigm?”

I had no answer. I still disagreed with him, but I learned to take caution in arguing national politics with someone that actually lived through and remembers The New Deal.

I reflect on this conversation so much lately, much like the conversations where I was accused of perpetuating racism. Though I don’t condone the anti-Americanism I see in our two-party system and current presidential candidates, I find myself drawn to candidates that can shake us from the luxurious stupor of capitalist placation — even if that means it needs to happen as a reaction. I oscillate between wanting to burn it all down and having hope in a system that historically rebounds to complacency and the status quo the moment that we all think we’re okay. Currently, I’m in favor of burning it all down, but moments from now when I watch Star Trek, I’ll be reminded of our potential, and my hope will prevail. Check me tomorrow.

I have to admit that my biggest fear is that Biden winning will lull us all back to a complacent slumber. I’ll go back to being stopped by the police afraid for my life but without White people caring about it. And, just as with anything unpleasant to our fragile human condition, I fear that White people’s ‘woke-ness’ will disappear just as quickly — the uncomfortable awareness exiled to the recesses in their minds.

No matter how you feel about Trump, you must admit that his ridiculous rule upon us inspired woke-ness as a reaction. He’s why diversity, equity, and inclusion are important to Corporate America. He’s why the riots continue to be fueled with fury. He’s the bureaucracy that gave women a reason to stand up. And for that, I am TRULY grateful.