Dear Karen: We Gotta Talk. Sincerely, Another White Woman

“Karen” is the derisive moniker bestowed upon a white woman who’s taken it upon herself to be a loud, aggressive, sometimes frenzied, always uninvited purveyor of “culture policing.” Or, as a less PC friend of mine put it, “Making a public ass of herself.”

Sorry, I snapped a little there.

And that’s embarrassing, Karen, embarrassing for you. Several of your coven have even lost jobs, lost clients, been publicly shamed, had to give up pets, been hounded out of a neighborhood. Some have been mortified to the point of posting social media apologies… which seldom work because, really, isn’t that just about having been caught, not that you’re really sorry about your behavior?

That’s not quaint. That’s not, “Oh, isn’t she a character!” That’s not, “I think I was just scared.” Sorry, sister; no go. Imagine how scared the black guy feels when you, a white woman, calls the cops claiming he threatened you.

Amy Cooper issued an apology today for her actions in Central Park, which doesn’t seem to be assuaging public outrage much. While people can parse the “he say she say” element of what’s not on tape, her decision to lie to the police is the part that, as she’s stated, is now turning her life upside down.

I’d like to think all that… but I know the world we live in. Karens abound. As do Chads and BBQ Beckies. So until some cosmic shift alters the inanities of humanity, please remember this, Karen, Chad, and Becky: if you can’t learn to control your damn self for the sake of mankind and all that’s holy, at least learn to control your damn self for the sake of yourself… and your mortified family and friends. That may not be the most noble of motivators, but we gotta start somewhere.

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