Objective: To parlay my magical antennae for detecting racism, microaggressions, and dog whistling into a highly paid, lifetime academic sinecure as a Diversity Enforcement Officer on a progressive, elite campus of higher education.
1. 1959 to present. Born a Caucasian, heteronormative male in 1946, I became woke at age 13 as I resolved to express my love of diversity by allowing myself to be soundly beaten by four white, teenage racists, losing a tooth in the process. I was rescued by a black classmate, who dispatched those punks by shouting, “can’t we all get along?” Even then I knew what White Supremacy was.
2. 1969-1970. Having been drafted into the Army, I eschewed escaping to Canada in order to demonstrate solidarity with the underclasses by allowing myself to be sent to Vietnam. I had a special t-shirt made which proudly proclaimed, in the immortal words of Muhammad Ali, “I ain’t got no quarrel with those Vietcongs.”
3. 1972-1974. I graduated university of Connecticut with a master’s degree in Zoology, specializing in “higher criticism of social Darwinism.” I never used it, but did become more enlightened about racism, classism, and sexism, even among animals.
4. 1975-1988. I got married in 1988, but those 13 years prior I allowed entrepreneurship to infiltrate my proletarian being, becoming that nasty unphonetic French word, bourgeoisie, in the process.
5. 1988-2016. Marriage, children, high income, retirement. What a totally bourgeoisie existence, I have no excuse. However, in 2006-2010 I incurred cancer, right knee replacement, and major surgery on the other knee, to partially atone for my lack of proletarian pursuits.
6. 2016-present. In this short 3 years, I suffered a stroke, another form of cancer, and left shoulder replacement, thus totally (I hope) atoning for my sins. Since I am probably not employable in any gainful occupation, you should certainly give me disability points. Of course, I didn’t mean by that previous sentence that Diversity Enforcement Officer is not a gainful profession, unless by gainful we mean “makes money.” What the hell, it’s other people’s money we’re playing with, right?
Well, sad to say I didn’t get the job? They just had no sense of humor. I’m not giving up though, I just have to burnish my aura a bit.