The White Woman’s Burden

Poor Rudyard Kipling. How many great authors are more reviled for their politics than beloved for their writings? Not even Ezra Pound, we think: Although he was a disgraceful fascist, people still have a soft spot for him. And Jean-Paul Sartre? Sure, he was an unrepentant apologist for Communism, but he’s ever so chic.

Yet the unabashed imperialist Mr. Kipling, regardless of his great verse, will forever be remembered for his line about “the white man’s burden”—bringing Western civilization to the benighted barbarians. The same folks who think The Jungle Book was composed by Walt Disney detest the ethnocentric Mr. Kipling. He’s as unfashionable as a pair of spats.

We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” were reflecting on Mr. Kipling anew upon coming up with a name for what we consider a relatively new phenomenon. We call it by two titles: “The White Woman’s Burden” and “Dating as Social Work.”

What, you may or may not be asking yourself, are we talking about? We’re glad we made you ask, dear reader.

Darn near everyone knew a few white girls in college whose past and present boyfriends, if brought together for a photograph, would resemble the United Nations, minus the Western countries. Their dating past is like a Bennetton ad—without all that preachy anti-death-penalty stuff. Unlike most co-eds, who are content to shack up with some milquetoast frat boy with a white baseball cap surgically stapled to his head, these gals seem only to fancy young men whose backgrounds are suitably Third World.

It’s as if they have some sort of points system: Five for an Indian; eight for an Arab; 10 for a Latino; 14 for a Native American; and a full 20 for an African. The more the homeland of this fellow represents hell on earth, the more these gals savor them. In short, failed states make them horny.

Now, before we continue with our rant, allow us to inform you that, at heart, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” are integrationists. We think that anyone from any ethnic group should be able to date a partner from any other ethnic group—and opponents of this are bigots.

Still, we would be remiss if we failed to mention that this “Dating as Social Work” often rankles. For one, there seems to be something rather pandering about it—as if some upper-middle class WASP named Gwendolyn can lay claim to “understanding oppression” merely by going to a movie with a guy named Juan. Yeah: You know all about slavery now, Ms. I-Went-To-Choate.

Further, most of these gals wind up marrying some rich white lawyer and chalk up their time with Achmed and Tito to their delightfully anti-racist past. As such, the time they spend on dinner with the oppressed irks their parents, pleases their women’s studies professors, and allows them to feel even more high and mighty. These chicks are just the straight versions of what is known at women’s colleges as the LUG: Lesbian Until Graduation.

That’s why we call this phenomenon “Dating as Social Work” and “The White Woman’s Burden”: Though its perpetrators like to think their dating habits are helping society, they’re merely serving as an opportunity for self-congratulation. It’s the multicultural version of scalping.

But maybe what particularly troubles us, dear reader, is how unfair all this is to our white male brethren. We know, we know: They’re white and male—they’re responsible for all the world’s ills, and, accordingly, they deserve all the knocks they get. We went to college too. Still, we can’t help but feel a bit sorry for the inequity of it all.

After all, every minority this side of Timbuktu wants to date white women. From Bangkok to Bengal, Caucasian women are where it’s at.

But white men? Are you kidding? Who the heck wants to spend time with those infantile oppressors?

So step aside, Rudyard Kipling. Old-school imperialism is out and social imperialism is in. “Take up the white woman’s burden--/Send forth the best ye breed.”