… And No, That Doesn’t Exempt me from White Privilege.

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If I had a nickel for every time someone has come up to me in the streets and asked me “what I am,” I could probably afford a plane ticket to Europe. It’s happened so often, in fact, that I’ve made it into a game for myself.

I always respond, “What do you think I am?”

And then I see how long it takes for them to answer, and if they think they’re going to insult me. Because what they don’t realize is that the lightness of my skin doesn’t…

Take it from a former enabler.

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Like most of you, I sat frozen in front of the TV on Wednesday as what should have been a boring, typical event in the course of our democracy dissolved into a mindless, horrifying spectacle of domestic terrorism. I kept waiting for the National Guard to come in and start enacting law and order, or to at least show some semblance of the force that they had shown at any of the BLM protests over the summer when countless peaceful protesters were permanently injured by brute force. …

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Dear Ms. Lahren,

Firstly, I’d like to applaud your condemnation of the officers who murdered George Floyd. I must say that given how much our values differ, it was a pleasant surprise to find something that we can agree on. I was also surprised (I’m sad to say) by the force with which you condemned Mr. Floyd’s death. Ms. Lahren, no one is disputing your obvious regard for your country, or the people who have been trained and hired to protect it. In fact, I admire the way you speak on behalf of people who you feel deserve the attention…

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A quick insight into how I’m trying to maintain my mental equilibrium about just one thing

The other day, while reading about stocking up on whatever medication you might need in the face of a possible quarantine, I had what felt like was already my twentieth anxiety attack in the face of COVID-19 (it was probably my third, but I digress).

You see, like most of the population, I have maintenance medication that I need to take every day. I’ve been on this medication since I was born, and I will be on it until I die. And it’s not a terrible thing; taking two or three pills every day feels like a pretty worthwhile exchange…

Confessions from a recovering people pleaser

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I learned the hard way that your teachers are not always right. For all of us, teachers run the gambit of human being: they can be inspiring, cool, fun, narcissistic, cold, and cruel. And since we start learning in a school environment, we’re taught to respect these giving, flawed individuals as the main authority figures in our lives.

Some of us are blessed enough to view themselves as our collaborators in education — as a safe place to lay our problems.

This is not the story of one of them.

In many ways, my senior year of college was one of the best and worst times of my life.

I was thrilled to graduate and start my own life…

An experiment in exchanging regret for your presence for pride in it.

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What does it actually mean to apologize? In the best of all worlds, it means to take responsibility; to own when you’ve done something wrong, and to start making reparation; to understand that you’ve caused hurt or inconvenience.

Ideally, this ownership of feeling and understanding of where you’ve gone wrong happens as an even exchange. A true understanding of where each person has gone wrong, and a movement towards healing.

What happens, though, when one half of the population is pushed to beg forgiveness not just for the things they do wrong, but for the space they take? The air…

Remember, remember, the Fifth of November, the Gunpowder Treason and plot. I know of no reason why the Gunpowder Treason should ever be forgot.

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I do, like many of you, appreciate the comforts of everyday routine, the security of the familiar, the tranquility of repetition.

Ever since 2006 and I first heard Hugo Weaving’s deep voice growl that “people should not be afraid of their governments; governments should be afraid of their people,” I’ve sat down to watch V for Vendetta on every November the 5th, much like every other SJW millennial out there. There was something about that movie that captivated me. …

Everyone’s a little afraid (still taken from the music video of Amanda Palmer’s “The Bed Song.”)

I went to look back at my Medium stats today, and I decided to check the Publication date on my last story. It was January 23, 2017.

I’m a little confused about why it’s taken me so long to apply my fingers to my computer keys. After all, I love Medium- I love the voices I’ve found here, and how so many of them feel like they sit on my wavelength. I love the responses I’ve found here to my voice, and the feeling that my weirdness has a space in which to exist and be perceived as normal. …

Please join me in welcoming to the stage the newest weapon of the morally corrupt: the Alternative Fact. This magical unicorn of an informational device, the illegitimate hybrid of falsehood and real occurrence, was introduced by Trump aide Kellyanne Conway. Conway unveiled her new creation while trying to excuse away the newly inaugurated POTUS deliberately lying to the intelligence community about the easily verified size of the crowd at his swearing-in ceremony, and the new White House Press Secretary, Sean Spicer, criticizing the press for reporting a different number than the one Trump shared with the intelligence community.

The problem…

When I was 19 and living abroad, four men came into my apartment. I didn’t know any of them, but they walked into my room at three in the morning. As three of them watched, one of them got onto my bed with me and started kissing my neck, telling me that he wanted to fuck me. His friends laughed. I was able to forcibly expel him from my bed, and one of my suite mates and I were able to get him out of the apartment.

I should note that these men were not strangers who figured they would…

Amy Schmidt

Writer, filmmaker, tarot reader, eternal nerd, lover of Thai noodles. Writing my way through post-concussion syndrome one anxiety attack at a time.

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