Privilege

I remember the first time that I really thought about the word privilege and what it means in our society. It was my first year in college and I had read an article about male privilege. It definitely got me all fired up. The article discussed how a man could walk to his car in a parking lot at night and not fear that he might get raped. And that no matter how hard a woman worked it was likely she would earn less than a male counterpart. I remember that a lot of the men that read the same article got defensive about it. I think that is the normal reaction when someone brings up a privilege you have simply by being born the way you are. You didn't ask for the privilege but it is yours nonetheless. But it's not an attack. It's just the way it is and the only way we can better ourselves is to talk about it. I am ashamed that I don't remember this discussion of privilege including race or my privilege as a white woman.

It's definitely hard to point out to someone when you feel like they are saying something racist or that their position on an issue comes from their privilege of being white. For LB's sake, I must get better at this. I recently saw a great Youtube video about this very issue. It's hard to make this point and not feel like you are telling the person that they are a bad person or racist but just that there is a problem with what they said. The speaker in the video makes a great analogy to pointing out racist comments and hygiene. To paraphrase, he says that just because you tell a friend that they have something in their teeth doesn't mean you are calling them unclean. But it's so hard for people to not get defensive when it comes to race. Sadly, in most cases the person with the racism in their teeth doesn't thank the other person for letting them know. I actually experienced a moment with a co-worker several years ago when we actually were able to discuss race without defensiveness or confrontation. Our company had a relationship with a predominantly African American college that is nearby. We had just been notified that classes that day were cancelled because students from that university had a violent altercation with students from another African American university that was in the same town. I don't remember her exact words but my co-worker said that due to the violent nature of their actions that the students shouldn't be in college. I paused for a moment and thought about her words. I got the sense her comments were largely based on the students' race. I am very rarely quick to come up with the right words in those situations. I tend to freeze and then think of the right thing to say 20 minutes after the fact. I asked her if she thought it was any different than white fraternity boys at Ohio State burning up couches in the street when they lose a football game. (I was very proud of myself for drawing that analogy.) She stopped for a minute and thought about it and realized that she misspoke. She said, "You're right. There is no difference. I get what you are saying." Sadly, most discussions about race don't go that smoothly.

Now that I am a woman raising a black child, privilege has jumped to the forefront of my thoughts again. And I'm all fired up. Again. I hope you have heard about the 17 year old boy in Florida, Trayvon Martin, who was recently murdered because someone thought he looked suspicious. I probably don't even need to tell you that this young man was black because white people are rarely accused of looking suspicious. Situations like this that force me to come face to face with my own privilege literally make me sick to my stomach. I am the first to admit that my initial reaction to stories like this in the news is to be shocked. But why should I be shocked? I imagine those who live without this privilege or work in this field are not the least bit shocked. But my privilege affords me that reaction. Several months ago, I read an article in the New York Times about an African American male who lives in New York and he recounted several times he had been stopped by police officers for not doing anything out of the ordinary. We were visiting my in-laws when I read it and I had a conversation about it with my father in law, who is African American. I was expressing disbelief and disgust and yet he was not at all surprised by what had happened to this gentleman. My white privilege slapped me in the face. As a white woman, I don't ever worry if I will be attacked because someone thinks I don't belong or that I look suspicious. I know that LB will have to deal with these things and it scares me.

I have to come clean and tell you that I recently got a little defensive about my white privilege. I was telling my sister about an incident involving D's cousin being called the n-word. Obviously, the whole situation really upset me. I was telling my sister how surprised I was that it happened in D's hometown. He grew up in a very liberal, open minded community and that open mindedness was appealing to D's parents as an interracial couple in the 70s. I was naive to think it couldn't happen there. My sister's reaction was one of, "Well, of course, it can happen there. That word is used everywhere." I kept trying to remind her, in a defensive tone, that D's hometown was so accepting and that is why his parents moved there over 30 years ago. I have my own work to do when it comes to privilege.

I am so grateful that LB has African American family members that can help him navigate this broken world that we live in. I will do my best but I know I can never truly understand. I haven't lived it. But D's father has. I will never forget the day he asked me how my parents felt about me dating D. We had been together for a while but our parents hadn't met yet. At first, I didn't understand what he meant. But then I realized that it was about D being bi-racial. I told him that they were fine with it. The look of relief in his dad's face is one that brings me to tears still to this day. His eyes showed how grateful he was that his son wouldn't have to endure what he did.

The man who shot Trayvon Martin has yet to be arrested. Please sign this petition to help bring justice to this case. "Being quiet is not an option, for we have been too quiet for too long." - Michael Skolnick


My thoughts and prayers are with the Martin family.