blood orange.

an ongoing discussion/moment of clarity.

words. 

"The temptation as a liberal-minded white man is to shake your head, to say, “No, wait, I get it. I can sympathize. Shit is fucked up.” But as a white person, you can’t get it. I lived in Harlem for a year and never got stopped and frisked, not once. The police never even looked at me twice. I could walk down the street smoking a joint and expect, at worst, a stern telling-off. I’ve been caught without a ticket twice on the subway — for perfectly legitimate reasons, not that that makes a difference — and let off without a ticket both times. And the one time I did get ticketed, apologetically (“We have to do this”) — for riding my bike on the footpath — I was literally the only white person queueing at the New York County Court at 8 AM on the day of my summons. Everyone else there, at least a couple of hundred people, was black or Hispanic.

That’s white privilege, and pretending it doesn’t exist doesn’t help anyone. That’s what Dev is saying in this song, or with its first part, at least. And he’s understandably pessimistic about what, if anything, his words will matter: “You wouldn’t listen if I told you.” But for whatever it’s worth, as a white person, the first thing you can do is listen. So hit play, and listen. And then hit play again. And think about how it feels to live this shit every single day. And if you’re not tired, then do whatever you can to effect change."



FLAVORWIRE: “I Ain’t Got Nothing Left to Give You”: Dev Hynes’ “Do You See My Skin Through the Flames?” Is Compulsory Listening