Site Meter Reflections on Playboy: Teenagers are the new niggers—and I refuse to shut up about it

October 15, 2008

Teenagers are the new niggers—and I refuse to shut up about it

It’s frightening and discouraging to be filled with rage while I hunger for the love and esteem of those around me. Nevertheless, I’m forced to give up the anxiety and doubt that have inspired self-censorship on this issue in the past. The other day, the Arcata police came to the door of my motel room with concerns about one of my half-repressed public tantrums. As long as I’m seemingly unable to stop myself from attracting attention to my rage, I might as well sublimate the urge by making it serve a just cause:
Schools—and this society they represent—go beyond blocking your [teenage] visionary tendencies. They further cripple you by making fun of you, as if you were not quite human, the new niggers. Why? Probably because every hierarchical society seems to need niggers to put down, and women and African-Americans won’t take it anymore.
—Grace Llewellyn, The Teenage Liberation Handbook

Though I’m 36 and white, I’m so pissed off about America’s condescension towards teenagers that I’ll risk alienating people with my custom T-shirt that says TEENAGERS ARE THE NEW NIGGERS on both sides. I hope that carrying my copy of Llewellyn’s book with me will clarify my intentions to intelligent people of good will, regardless of their color. I will not protect the public square from my anger any longer. The people of Arcata will have to learn to tolerate my rudeness at the farmers’ market in the town square every Saturday. I can be stopped only by being arrested. Would a liberal university town risk the embarrassment of a First Amendment lawsuit? For its sake, I hope not.

Update, October 17, 2008, 2:36 p.m.: I feel weak right now. A few minutes ago in downtown Arcata, some musclebound idiot, some Jeanie Bueller of free speech who believes that misery loves company, forcibly took the T-shirt from my hands at a moment when I was carrying it instead of wearing it. (I had been wearing a long-sleeve shirt underneath, so I wasn’t left shirtless.) What an asshole! Sadly, my plans for tomorrow’s farmers’ market are foiled. But this isn’t over.

Update, October 20, 2008, 3:47 p.m.: I feel strong. The TEENAGERS ARE THE NEW NIGGERS T-shirt is gone, but I already own another shirt with similarly inflammatory words. On the front it says NEVER TELL YOUR TEENAGER, “FAMILIES AREN’T DEMOCRACIES.” On the back it has two messages: MY DAD DID. NOW HE’S THE DEVIL’S DAILY BREAKFAST and a quote by Benjamin Franklin: Rebellion against tyrants is obedience to God. I can proudly report that I made the scene at last Saturday’s farmers’ market with this T-shirt—and I will strike again.

Update, December 24, 2008, 1:37 p.m.: David Duke meets Ebenezer Scrooge. Farmers’ market season is over, but Christmas Eve is a wonderfully ee-vill day to make the Humboldt County debut of one of my other war shirts from Sacramento: MY FATHER DIED BEFORE I COULD KILL HIM. A few months ago, when I believed I had the choice of avoiding a reputation as a psycho in my new hometown, I would have been ashamed to wear it around here. Fortunately, I’ve lost that hope. How can hope be called a virtue when hopelessness brings so much wisdom and power?

Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 2:22 PM

  • Blogger Ethan Lee Vita left this comment at October 17, 2008 11:17 PM  
    I completely support your rage. I'm about to snap myself, though on the different vein of the idiocy of the presidential campaign and the economic situation. Let's add more government intervention and blame the market in 10 years when intervention fails again. Probably doesn't help that I can't find a job in their god damn recession and am facing getting kicked out of my home because of it.

  • Blogger Brian Sorgatz left this comment at October 20, 2008 2:18 PM  
    Ethan,
    Many thanks for the support. I am truly sorry that other people’s bad judgment is hurting you. Fortunately, human beings learn from their individual and collective mistakes—sometimes. When the political situation looks discouraging, I take heart by remembering the miracle of liberation in eastern Europe in 1989 (the year I turned 17). Swift, positive change can happen.

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