Dear White People: 

When I’m drunk and pondering the streets of Toronto with my brown and black friends, do not interrogate us on our understanding of racial dynamics. We are trying to be carefree and alive and young and you are actually aging us. No, I do not wish to recollect violence against me and my loved ones, nor do I want to explain to you the constant racial surveillance I encounter. I’m running around downtown Toronto with my friends on a Friday night, my first day living completely on my own, with my mental health finally at ease, and I have no desire to educate your ass. I know it’s cute to you because, let’s face it, racial theory is just that to you, a theory. It is some hypothetical concept you enjoy drunkenly inquiring about. It is your deep version of small talk. It is what you think makes you better than other white folks. Do not approach me with your Chacos and ask me where I’m from. My god. What a way to start a conversation. There are a multitude of uses for Google and academic literature and resources at your disposable. Don’t use me for that when I’m really trying to be free. And lastly, don’t be all fragile when I call you out for how inconsiderate you and your Chacos have been.  By the way, this is not limited to when we are trying to enjoy ourselves. We are not a sociological study openly available for your questioning. 

You mad?