Fuck Tolerance
By: Cassie Brighter
Tags: Diversity, Lgbtqi, LGBTQ, BlackLivesMatter, Intersectionality

Fuck Tolerance

I tolerate the smell of kitty litter. I tolerate the line at DMV, a fart on a plane and tabloids at the checkout counter. I tolerate a mild toothache.

Photo by Levi Saunders

Fuck tolerance.

Being tolerated is not better than being actively persecuted — it’s just slower. Being tolerated fills one up with internal shame, a sense that one shouldn’t have been born, a sense that one’s presence on this world is unwanted. Being tolerated kills you slowly.

Fuck tolerance.

Tolerance assumes that you get to decide if I should be tolerated or not — if my right to marry should be tolerated, if my right to use the goddamn bathroom should be tolerated. Tolerance is a roomful of White men deciding on women’s reproductive rights. Tolerance is White people being “kind enough” to let Black children into “their” schools.

Fuck tolerance.

Tolerance is White liberals magnanimously saying that Colin Kaepernick should be ‘allowed’ to kneel — without taking a second’s pause to discuss Emantic Bradford, Philando Castile, Eric Garner, Tamir Rice, Stephon Clark or dozens of other Black people killed by police — the whole reason Kaepernick is kneeling.

Fuck tolerance.

Tolerance is the self-righteousness of privilege — it’s the Evangelicals saying “hate the sin, love the sinner” about Queer people. Sex is not a sin. Stop quoting two lines from a 3,400-yr old passage in a book that condones slavery and polygamy and war, but not homosexuality (a book that forbids dozens of things straight people do, btw, but you comfortably ignore the cognitive dissonance.) Love is not a sin. Human connection is the most important human need, and you don’t get to decide who gets to experience it. Tolerance is “they can do what they like in their bedrooms, but why are they flaunting it?” — said by the Christian man who has pictures of his wedding on his desk, who kisses his wife in public, who shows me photos of his honeymoon. Flaunting it. Outside the bedroom.

Fuck tolerance.

Tolerance debates how many days Latinx children can be kept in cages, away from their mothers. Tolerance allows them in, to work them in farms at illegally-low wages. Tolerance is not looking at your maid’s documents when you hire her — because she’s willing to work cheaper than that agency on Yelp. Tolerance “allows” Honduran refugees into the U.S. — not considering it was U.S. policy, combined with climate change, that completely wrecked that country’s economy. Tolerance politely debates whether it’s ok to have military intervention in Venezuela to depose their democratically-elected President.

Fuck tolerance.

You’re not a representative of the ruling class; you don’t get to decide who is granted an audience. “I don’t see color,” says privilege, proudly displaying tolerance (while highlighting that the color of their skin has NEVER put them in danger). “I don’t care if you want to think you’re a man, or a woman, or a chicken,” says privilege, proudly displaying tolerance (while highlighting their ignorance, and insulting transgender people). You’re not “normal,” you’re not the default human. You’re just another crayon in the box. You’re just as normal as all of us. You’re as ordinary as any of us, you’re just as weird as any of us.

Fuck tolerance.

This world is not just yours — you don’t get to decide if I can live here or not. This is OUR world, and we better share it well, or it’s going to get pretty fucking awkward.

Fuck tolerance.

I will go where I’m accepted. Where I will be given a seat at the table. I will go where I’m welcomed — where people are happy my flavor of ice cream has been added to the dessert table. I will go where I’m embraced — where people are open to seeing my pain, hearing my story, cheering my victories.

I will go where I’m embraced.

And when I find you there, I will embrace you, too.