DEI Backlash: A Toddler’s Tantrum in Disguise
Let's talk about this anti-DEI backlash that's about as surprising as a toddler having a meltdown at bedtime. We all saw this tantrum coming from miles away. But what's truly spectacular is the Olympic-level mental gymnastics being performed to justify it.
Picture this: white men claiming they're "oppressed" by the radical notion that maybe, just maybe, other people deserve a seat at the table too. The sheer audacity makes my three-year-olds look like paragons of honesty. At least when my kids get caught with their hand in the cookie jar, they don't write a 10-page manifesto about why cookies should be exclusively distributed based on historical precedent.
And oh, let's discuss everyone's favorite fairy tale: "meritocracy." If our current system truly rewards merit, then I've got some oceanfront property in Nebraska to sell you. Looking at some of our current "leaders," I'm starting to think the only qualification needed is the ability to fail upward with unprecedented confidence. If this is meritocracy in action, I'd love to meet their hiring manager—just so I know which building to avoid entirely.
Let's strip away the fancy rhetoric and call this what it is: the professional equivalent of a playground bully who's suddenly upset that the teacher wants everyone to have a turn on the swing set. What we're witnessing isn't complex policy disagreement—it's privilege throwing a temper tantrum in a tailored suit.
At its core, this behavior is simpler to decode than a children's picture book. But unlike my toddlers, who'll straight-up tell you they want all the toys because sharing is hard, these folks are out here writing dissertations on why hoarding resources is actually a moral imperative.
We've reached the point where trying to have a reasonable dialogue with these people is like trying to teach quantum physics to a goldfish—technically possible, but a complete waste of everyone's time. When someone's already decided that basic fairness is negotiable, no amount of logical arguments will penetrate their carefully constructed fortress of rationalization.
Some days, I find myself wondering if this whole American experiment has simply run its course—if we're watching in real time as the country steadily backslides toward its original operating system: a white autocracy with better marketing. I don't have the answers. Most days I'm not even sure I'm asking the right questions.
But what I do know is this: I'm firmly planted in the anger stage of grief. And you know what? That might be the most useful place to be right now. At least anger gets you up in the morning. It keeps you moving, keeps you fighting, keeps you trying to build something better—even on the days when it feels like you're laying bricks in a hurricane.