Abigail Fisher and the Me Generation

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Abigail Fisher is a puppet, nothing more than the latest Pinocchio to Edward Blum’s Geppetto. She may be the vessel, but it is Blum who is the driving force of Fisher v. University of Texas — the current Supreme Court case that may lend the fatal blow to affirmative action for which staunch conservatives have longed. He recruited her through his legal defense fund group, Project on Fair Representation, which he’s used to fight race-focused legislation for two decades now. The legal fees are reportedly paid through support of DonorsTrust, a group that has directed millions of dollars to the Koch brothers’¬†Americans for Prosperity Foundation.

Together they’re dressing up her bitterness at being rejected from her first-choice college as the need to stop “discrimination” in college admissions. That’s a cute little tale, but in actuality all of this boils down to someone operating under the unfortunate assumption that just because you work for something, it is owed to you. Working hard toward a goal doesn’t automatically mean you deserve to achieve it.

Nonetheless, while we wait to see how the Supreme Court does rule, there’s growing evidence that the court can’t really do away with affirmative action altogether. Maybe so, but that won’t stop the Abigail Fishers of the world from going above and beyond to essentially enact revenge on others over feelings that they were wronged.

I’m not convinced that future incarnations of Fisher will have solely white faces, either.

I initially thought to chalk up Fisher’s sense of entitlement as “mighty white,” though I’ve increasingly seen this perspective among people in their 20s — my age group — regardless of their hue. Yes, white privilege undoubtedly plays out throughout Fisher’s case, and I’m irritated by her lawsuit’s implication that students at UT who look more like me are less deserving of admission than those that look like her (though they are apparently smarter and more well-rounded than she was). However, the more I thought about it, the more familiar her “me, me, me” outlook on life appeared.

You can read the rest over at The Root.

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