Black Women Climb Hill
Attention, people of the world:
In the New York Times, Megan Specia reports on a staggering feat of racial fortitude:
Or, Black Women Climb Hill.
Specifically, a hill in the Yorkshire Dales National Park. Yes, I know, it’s emotionally overwhelming, the defining triumph of our time.
Note the use of the word disparity and its intended connotations of unfairness, of unequal treatment. The implication of some dastardly external force at work. As if the demographics of those taking walks in the British countryside weren’t chiefly a result of personal inclination, of leisure-time choices, or a simple matter of geography and where a person has chosen to live.
Or, Black Women Complain About Lack Of Black Women In Place Black Women Seldom Visit.
It occurs to me that a perception of the Yorkshire Dales, or the Peak District, or any of Britain’s National Parks, as some exclusive fiefdom of upper-class white people is the kind of misapprehension one might expect from someone who rarely, if ever, visits such places. One of the features of the nearby Peak District, for instance, is the number of East Asian students enjoying the scenery and walking about entirely unmolested.
And we’ve previously touched on ways in which parochial assumptions of racial “representation” will likely be distorted by proximity to the nation’s capital, which in my lifetime has gone from a native white-majority city, over 90%, to a native white-minority one, around 35%, an arrangement wildly out of step with the rest of the nation. Such that, things denounced as “horribly white,” or whatever the current term of disapproval is, may be puzzling to people who live in, say, Chesterfield or Plymouth.
But back to our tale of self-inflicted sorrow:
Well, a walk in the countryside has much to recommend it. Britain’s National Parks are very easy on the eye, and time spent in them can be both enjoyable and restorative. As to why some demographics deny themselves this pleasure, we find the usual, somewhat vague rumblings of injustice and oppression, albeit of a kind not entirely convincing:
At which point, readers might reasonably expect the author of the piece – and Dr Fowler, our professor of colonialism – to reveal exactly how “people from other backgrounds” are being forcibly excluded from hiking, yomping, and casual walks. These cruelly thwarted attempts to enjoy the scenic parts of the country to which they or their parents had moved.
Alas, we are merely told that, “People are very quick to dismiss the suggestion that there is racism in the countryside.” On this point, no details are forthcoming. No damning particulars are presented to sway the reader. None at all. Though clearly, we’re expected to assume the worst.
We are, however, reminded of other struggles:
Yes, dressing is hard.
Still, Ms Fatinikun’s heroism has not gone unrecognised:
Regarding Ms Fatinikun’s accomplishment of walking with other women who look a bit like her, we’re told,
Again, details of this racist abuse are oddly absent, and a news item on Ms Fatinikun’s appearance on the programme refers only to “complaints” from viewers. One of whom objected to the notion of black visitors needing a “safe space” when among The White Devils, and the implication that the locals – shopkeepers, hoteliers, and sellers of ice-cream – are somehow dangerous.
An omission of particulars that leaves the reader unsure of whether the British countryside is in fact teeming with menacing bigots, people who refuse to sell lunches and fortifying beverages to those deemed alarmingly brown, or whether televised race-hustling is simply disagreeable and unpopular, along with the notion of whiteness as both an accusation and a pejorative.
If the above sounds familiar, you may be thinking of this assembly of much the same conceits, published in the Guardian, or any of the near-identical articles that appear on a regular basis. In which we’re invited to be outraged by the scarcity of brown-skinned rock climbing instructors, as if a person can’t possibly learn to climb without an instructor of a matching skin tone, and reminded of the need for “culturally appropriate provisions,” none of which are specified, but which must nonetheless be provided at taxpayer expense.
And in which we’re told that a place being “white,” or “distinctly white,” or “very white,” a “last bastion of whiteness,” is obviously lamentable and indecent, a thing that must be fixed.
Given the above, it may be worth repeating the following, from my comments on that particular Guardian article:
Or perhaps something worse.
This blog is kept afloat by the tip jar buttons below.
Actual snort.
When race hustlers call you names you’re not allowed to object. Objecting is racist now.
The implication is that it is somehow closed to black people.
They can’t say this explicitly, lest they prove themselves to be liars, but they can use clever language to insinuate it.
Should have titled it Black Women Take a Hike.
Commas can be left to the discretion of the reader.
Perhaps only a misapprehension. And there certainly are people who are deluded in this way. But this is the New York Times where politically motivated lies are not merely preferred but mandatory and telling the truth can get you fired.
DEI is not just racism, it is the worst form of racism. A white racist might think that all non-whites are naturally inferior in all ways, but without wishing to in any way impose restrictions on where they live or work or enjoy recreation. An advocate of DEI, however, seeks to impose endless restrictions.
As someone who often visits the Peak District, which is just a few minutes away, it’s all rather at odds with my experience. Racial minorities are seen routinely, it’s utterly unremarkable, and the locals seem to welcome the appreciation of their scenic neighbourhood. That’s often how they make a living. They’re quite happy to sell you meals, drinks, waterproofs, ice-cream, whatever. They do, I suspect, want you to come back and spend more money.
And it’s a little odd to write several thousand words on how supposedly racist and unwelcoming our National Parks are without providing even one example.
In the US South, rural small towns are literally IN THE WOODS. Small houses just surrounded by trees, not manicured yards. And with black people living there. People who hunt and fish.
I have heard blacks in Chicago say they do not apply for jobs in the suburbs or move there because they “don’t feel safe”. They currently live in murder central but are afraid of the suburbs. Sure, they may get looked at by white people because they look out of place but “unsafe”? hahahha no. What they feel is social discomfort but please, this “unsafe” crap is boring.
This.
“Unsafe” is one of the left’s favorite pieces of dishonest rhetoric. All one has to do is claim to “feel unsafe” in order to put innocent people on the defensive.
It’s a white-majority country and the countryside is where a lot of white people live. What the hell do these idiots expect?
It is a bit like visiting Seoraksan National Park or Namiseom Island and then complaining about how those places are just crawling with Koreans.
But of course if you put it that way, as one might, the thinking is not entirely flattering for the person doing the complaining.
It’s not an ideal attitude to inspire a warm welcome.
And thus the British Empire is diminished further.
I’ll use that comment about the problem of echo chambers as an excuse to link to this classic conversation about the elevation of peer review over actual experience.
Archive version here if paywalled
May God grant us all the unselfconscious ethnocentricity of blacks. They’re shy and retiring around other races, they want to be able to be with their own people and are uncomfortable in non-African territory until they can mark it as their own.
The British countryside is white in the sense that it’s the ethnic home of the English, Scottish and Welsh, in the same way as Nigeria (guessing by the surname) is the ethnic home of Rhiane Fatinikun. But the British racial equality ideal won’t be complete until Fatinikun feels as much at home in the British countryside as Smith and Jones, and that requires that it stops being an ethnic home for Smith and Jones. So all the races can share Britain, and all the races except the whites can have their ethnic home too.
And deliberate countryside recreation – the spiritual uplift that white people think they get from being rained-on and blistered – isn’t necessarily well understood by other races. Those crazy white people could afford a luxury hotel with a spa, and this is what they choose to do. But there’s also a suspicion that these implicitly white activities might become crystallization points for white ethnic consciousness.
She’s territory marking for her race, and the “human connections” are within her own race.
Corporate/NGO sponsorships enabling her to make it a full time job, adulation from the New York Times, endorsement from British establishment itself.
That.
Well, it does rather suggest a mindset in which the concept of gratitude plays no obvious part.
And yet we’re supposed to applaud it.
Seems to me we need more exclusive fiefdoms of White people.
Stunning and brave.
Look… I worked around the “African-American community” for the majority of my adult life, and what I observed is this: For whatever reason, cultural, biological, or whatever, they just don’t do stuff like go out into the woods and camp. If they live there? They’re fine with it; if they don’t, they usually don’t see a point to it. Period.
Same with a lot of things. Fishing? Look at the people frequenting the stores, buying the gear… It’s rarely the blacks, even in areas that are high-concentration black in terms of demographics. Why? No damn idea.
Different deal if you go somewhere that has “country blacks”, but in the Northern cities, they just don’t leave the city. Ever. I don’t know why, either; it’s not like there were ever checkpoints denying them access to the rural areas or parks. They just don’t. The other ethnic groups? LOL… I’d love to introduce you to the Hmong and other Asian groups that have no problem getting out into the woods and strip-mining them for mushrooms and other stuff. Blacks, on the other hand? They will not leave the cities, once they’re in them. They don’t feel the need, and they don’t “do” the sort of outdoor rec stuff that the other demographics do. And, it ain’t because anyone is actively stopping them, either.
You get into the rural deep South, where there are “country-boy redneck blacks”, well… Different deal. You should see the sheer horror when one of those guys starts asking his white co-workers about things like “Hey, how’s the deer hunting around here…?”, and then going out hunting with them. It’s about like what your cat does, when it observes you in the bathtub, soaking…
Again, no damn idea why. It just is.
Swear to God, one of the flat-out strangest conversations I ever had was with a couple of urban-type blacks in the city of Everett, Washington State. Both were health-care workers contracted with the Veteran’s Administration office there, and natives of the city.
Everett is a city on the Puget Sound, and is maybe 40-50 miles west of the Cascade Mountain range, with all of its recreational opportunities. The Puget Sound and the Olympics are about the same distance in the opposite direction.Typical Northwest area; hasn’t had a history of racial issues, no real reason for anyone to fear the rural areas. Both of these urban blacks were astounded to hear that I’d driven in from just on the other side of the Cascade range that morning, and were horrified to hear that I’d encountered, of all things in a Northwest October, snow on the passes. We got to talking about it all, and they told me that neither one of them had ever once been outside the urban areas of the Puget Sound metro area. One of them had gotten as far south as Tacoma, and that was about it. They’d never, ever once been to the mountains you could see out of the office windows, either the Olympics to the west across the Sound, or the ones to the east. The two of them were in their forties or fifties, and had precisely zero interest in venturing outside their comfort zone, for any reason.
I have no idea why, and I still don’t fathom the utter lack of interest. I mean… I would have felt the need to just go check things out, in their shoes, at some point in my life. For me, it’d damn near be an imperative.
I think that’s a general reaction for a lot of people, irrelevant of skin color. My wife spent three years in Hawaii courtesy of the U.S. Navy, and she would tell you many people were perfectly fine living on base and rarely venturing off if they didn’t have to.
So long as I’m here, I might as well bore you all with my visit to Blighty recently. Two weeks, one in London, one in Torquay. Great visit overall, but here’s what struck me in particular, as a longtime Anglophile:
The far lower percentage of morbidly obese people overall in both places. Yes, overweight people existed, but I’m talking Amurrican obese. Like men who look like an upended Volkswagen van. People so fat they need mobility scooters. I suspect, especially in London, the lack of a car encouraged you to walk a lot more. My wife and I were easily bumping past 10K steps a day.
Take out culture. We were amazed to see how many stores sold prepackaged, freshly made food. Like Boots the chemist and W.T. Smith’s at Paddington. We bought our dinner at the local Marks and Sparks in Paddington (where we stayed in London), and ate on the communal patio. Canned gin and tonics. Heaven. The dogs were amazingly polite and well-trained. Only once did we see a barking dog. None of them leapt off the chain, and in parks they roamed free and returned to their owners. Thatcher’s cider on tap and cask-drawn ale. My beer taste has been reduced to stout and Guinness (I despise IPAs), so this was a delightful surprise. The food. Yes, the traditional English breakfast was there, baked beans included, but everything else was delicious. And we weren’t looking for restaurants with good reputations. I’m talking snacks at the Torquay Hilton, the Sherlock Holmes Pub, and the White Horse in Carnaby.
The money. Did not convert any money. We used Google Wallet to pay for everything, and an Oyster card for the wife on the Tube. The history. Yes, there’s a lot of old stuff about the place. I was prepared for that. It was seeing history sliced and diced and repurposed. Like Torre Abbey, where the barn was Norman, the original monastery had bits torn down and the rest sold to a family who (I think) lived in it for a couple hundred years, and it’s now a museum / garden / event space, on a lot next to a modern sports complex, and a hotel from the Victorian era.
Yeah, we stayed in Central London and didn’t venture into the areas that are diverse and vibrant with quaint native customs. But it was quite nice to get outside and experience reality, and remind oneself that online life is a contradiction in terms.
For those who missed it, another twist on the same drama:
In terms of imaginary woes, if you want to see some real barrel-bottom scraping, do click the link above.
That’s always been the attitude of totalitarians, be they communists or fascists or any other ists that have ever existed.
See the in-progress lynching of law professor Amy Wax: Race hustlers are allowed to blame white people for blacks’ persistent failures to excel. But professor Wax is not allowed to point to evidence that the blacks are just not cutting it.