By Ja’Loni OwensColumnist

Nothing you do at this point surprises me in the slightest, yet I often times find myself disappointed and enraged by just how apathetic and oblivious you are to literally everything. When I say “literally everything,” I really do mean literally everything.

Let’s take the #MeToo campaign for example. Are you all really going to pretend your organizing power did that? I would ask that you Google Tarana Burke, but the majority of you already know who she is. Burke founded the “Me Too” movement in 2006, more than 10 years ago, to uplift girls and women of color who experienced sexual assault and to provide them with the level of support she, as a sexual assault survivor, knows that they need.

Unsurprisingly, I haven’t seen Burke credited once. I also did not see her name attached to actress Alyssa Milano’s call to action via Twitter. I do, however, see Burke doing all that she can to make sure white feminists do not co-opt yet another movement birthed from black women, with hundreds of black women standing by her because what’s being done to Burke has been done to us as well.

And then, you have the nerve to say: “We’re all women fighting for the same thing. Where the credit goes doesn’t matter.” Doesn’t matter? Really?

Have you ever worked on a group project? There’s always that one kid who doesn’t pull their weight. There’s always that one kid who you try your hardest to delegate the smallest tasks to because you know that they likely will do a mediocre job, you know, assuming they do the task at all. Then when grading comes around, they get an A+ just like you do when all they did was send “OK” and “sounds good” to the GroupMe for your project a few times. Everyone in the group, and maybe even the professor, knows that kid has a poor work ethic and didn’t deserve an A+. That kid is you. White feminists are the kids who don’t pull their weight in group projects, but still get an A+.

So whenever I hear a white feminist suggest that black women are divisive for demanding our names be attached to our work and for refusing to let you all just parade our concepts around without clarifying that they do not belong to you, I laugh and I tell them, “That’s cute.”

It’s cute that you’re running around with your big hoops, your thick, drawn-on brows and your cornrows – or as you know them, Kim Kardashian braids – yelling “Cash Me Ousside,” as if you don’t call black women monkeys and clowns for having the same features you try to emulate or call us ghetto or hoodrats for wearing the same things you pay hundreds for.

It’s cute that you bat your eyelashes at me and tell me that you’re not one of the over 50 percent of white women who voted for Donald Trump and recite the definition of intersectionality to me, yet when I ask you about the feminist scholar who birthed that concept you can’t even tell me her name.

It’s cute that you really think if you say something blatantly false and clearly outrageous enough that it becomes true, simply because you as a white woman are afforded the space to say it.

It’s cute that you think your attempts to erase black women from feminist history and to spread the lie that the movement for liberation is where it is today because of women like you, will change reality. It won’t.

Regardless of how many times you declare your so-called feminism to be the epitome of female empowerment and to be revolutionary, it will always be white supremacy lite.

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