Authentic advocates must fight ‘boy crying wolf’ damage caused by social justice warriors

Racism is all too prevalent. So is sexism, and any number of other isms that deny justice, perpetuate inequity and inflict severe harm on others. It is maddening to those who are passionate about righting wrongs and seeking to balance a decidedly imbalanced playing field.

However, a danger lurks beneath the surface of this desire to set the scales right. Because problems exist in so many places, there is temptation among over-zealots to claim it is virtually everywhere. In so doing, they are their own worst enemy. Seeing the world through this skewed hyper-lens is counterproductive and self-destructive because it creates “false positives”–instances where a sense of injustice is exaggerated or imagined outright. And false positives undermine legitimate instances where one or more isms is indeed at play.

We are treading on highly subjective ground, no doubt. We are told that we mustn’t deny another’s “lived experience.” True enough. And in my lived experience, there are times where most anyone can see what’s going on. Think of these instances as being akin to the Jussie Smollett Debacle.

As I wrote when that sham story unraveled a year ago, I was skeptical of the story from the outset. The most gullible, the easiest prey for the far-fetched wee-hours tale that was a veritable orgy of isms and phobias? Social Justice Warriors, of course.

The worst fallout from that shameful, still-alive chapter is the negative impact that the has-been actor’s false claims have had, and will continue to have, on authentic reports of hate crimes.

Certainly, Jussie wasn’t the first to misappropriate social justice issues for selfish gain, nor will he be the last. And for every hustler out there, there are many more legit victims whose pleas for justice, tragically, get compromised by the misdeeds of all the Jussies in the universe.

Jussie Smollett: lying shame, indeed.

Such is the case for earnest social justice advocates whose efforts are saddled by self-serving, self-righteous Social Justice Warriors.

These faux activists have a thirst for personal validation and acclaim that eclipses any ethical conviction they may possess. They hitch their wagon, political, professional, or otherwise, to a larger movement with an eye toward their own advancement or glory.

What’s one sign to look out for? Consider when someone chronically, knee-jerk style, resorts to racializing situations or issues. Yes, some of those cases are bound to have a racial component, but all the time, and when there is a notable absence of a substantive, logical argument supporting the assertion? Often, they will resort to emotionalism and sweeping generalizations, but as for those pesky things known as “facts,” they are MIA.

Their strained efforts become so over-the-top that, over time, even casual observers will start to detect a “boy who cried wolf” element to these hysterics.

Having a “boy cried wolf” detector is essential. To common-sense observers, it helps unmask the SJWs for who they are.

Meanwhile, these bad SJW actors are watering down those times when they have a valid point–remember, there is no denying the all-too-common prevalence of racism, homophobia, xenophobia and myriad other social ills. More insidiously, the SJWs are also weakening the moral authority of the sincere, rightly motivated social justice advocates.

So it is urgent and vital that authentic advocates call out SJWs. At minimum, take steps to create distance from them. When a “boy crying wolf” moment emerges, say so. In the end, authentic advocates will grow credibility and trust. Those assets are instrumental in winning over the many individuals who are weary of the self-serving overreach of SJWs who detect an ism at every turn.

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In the wake of Kobe Bryant’s death, basketball game is refuge

Kobe Bryant’s shocking death yesterday hit me on an unexpected level.

When my son broke the news to me, my heart sank. Horrible, sad, tragic…what are the words? There are no words; there are too many words.

It was a moment that smacked me up-side my entire being, soul and body. I realize I am far from alone in this response, especially among zealous sports fans. One who fits that description is my brother and during a text exchange yesterday, he wrote, “A bit numb.”

What is it about this death that has rocked me more than any other public figure’s death in memory? The only comparison is when I found out Len Bias died—then, a short time later, the circumstances leading to his death. I had met Len the previous summer at a basketball camp, and felt some personal connection in that case.

But with Kobe, here’s a man I never knew. At the same time, I felt like I knew him, at least to some degree. He grew up before my eyes, from a 17-year-old kid who was drafted in the first round to a 41-year-old legend whose supreme talent was amplified by his unsurpassed work ethic and determination.

He was my Boston Celtics’ arch nemesis, he was everyone’s nemesis at various times, in fact. For a long time, I didn’t particularly like him. He didn’t much care to be liked, anyway. He developed a reputation as a crybaby, especially through his well-chronicled friction with fellow Lakers star Shaquille O’Neal. Off the court, he was far from perfect.

But over the last decade or so, Kobe had matured and transformed into a new phase of global icon and leader; his post-playing career was shaping up to be something potentially even more extraordinary than his NBA performance.

More than the Kobe who has been, I mourn the Kobe that never got to be. He was blossoming and the world would have been empowered by his future impact. Maybe, if enough of us tap into our inner Mamba, that kind of impact will yet occur as a way of honoring his life and legacy.

Therapy, for me, last night was having a church-league basketball game to play. During pre-game warm-ups, though this shocking development is all I can think about, I make a point of not voicing it. What can be said?

In the pre-game huddle with teammates and opposing team members, our captain offers standard remarks, then concludes it with: “A moment of silence for Kobe.”

There is respectful, reverential, sad silence for a moment. And then we move forward with what we came for. It’s the same thing that prompted Kobe and his daughter, Gianni, to get aboard that chopper with seven others earlier in the day: a basketball game.

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