So, a friend had a Facebook post observing that black Americans will talk about being invisible and powerless and, all too often, white Americans will respond by arguing or trying to tell them that their complaints are not real. I chimed in, mentioning that for some white Americans, it doesn’t feel like they’re privileged. They are privileged, but they have a lot of problems of their own and, so, it doesn’t feel like privilege. I cited my older post where I used the Shawshank Redemption as a metaphor. Andy Dufresne was wrongly convicted and crawled through a river of shit to escape and go to Mexico. He might be excused for not thinking he was the beneficiary of privilege. But, he absolutely was. His black friend, Red would have been killed by the guards for the same antics and never would have been allowed anywhere near the warden’s financial documents.
Another person on the discussion thread responded by asking the very legitimate question about why so many people whose lives aren’t (not even in their own opinion) that river of shit still refuse to believe they are privileged. My response to that grew longer than I anticipated and felt like something that might have some value to post here — the perspective of a guy such as myself who enjoys most of the structural privileges you can name and why there was a period in my life when I would have resented the implication that I got where I was through something other than hard work and good choices:
I can only offer dimly remembered memories from my early 20s: white, male, very educated, upper-middle class background. I felt like I was where I was through hard work. I remember getting picked on in middle school and high school for being a nerd. I felt intimidated by the poor kids in school who acted in ways that were rougher than I was accustomed to. I felt like they didn’t value education, didn’t work very hard in school, and made fun of those who did. When they struggled later on in life, I felt like it was going to be because of the bad choices they made right now. And, because they made me feel angry, fearful, or resentful at the time, their future struggles were going to be no more than they deserved. (I see parallels sometimes in the very religious who are especially concerned and angry about the moral failings of others and seem almost happy about the eternal damnation those people are going to endure.)
So, when I got to college and I started to hear about diversity and privilege from a bunch of ivory tower types, it grated. I remember Dennis Miller had a bit about how, because he was a white guy, he was everybody’s asshole. I really identified with it.
There was a lot of individual resentment, fear, and lack of perspective that blinded me to the structural realities of what was going on in society. Of course I had a ton of help getting where I was. Of course those other kids weren’t pursuing education the way I was because they didn’t have the background I did. And their perceived deficiencies were magnified in my mind because of my own fears, anxieties, and resentments. So I wasn’t inclined to listen to any of it.
I’m not defending any of that. I’m not proud of it. But, that’s what I recall about why I felt the way I did when I was one of those guys who had a pretty good life and very much resisted messages about privilege.
The turning point, as I recall it; was that one day I was holding forth bitterly about political correctness or whatever, and my sister asked me bluntly, “what are you so angry about?” I probably offered up some response justifying my tirade. But, I chewed on that question, ultimately concluding that I didn’t have a lot to be truly angry about. Whatever people were saying about white guys or privilege or political correctness was in the abstract. Regardless of how those messages felt to me, nobody was blaming me directly. So, I shouldn’t be mad about that. And, when you got right down to how my life was going, it was pretty damn good. Being angry was gratuitous on my part. My resentment didn’t turn off like a light bulb or anything, but that’s when I think I started heading in the other direction.
So, anyway, one guy’s perspective. I’m not sure how much it applies to the dynamic in our culture generally.
The quote that I read recently was something like “To the privileged, equality feels like oppression.”
I grew up straight, white, male, bright, middle class in the burbs and I remember doing dumb things like complaining that there were scholarships for females, Hispanics, African-Americans, etc but nothing for poor ol’ me.
I still struggle with those feelings popping up occasionally, even though I know better (or should anyway).
Feeling like I am sitting down at a support group for white, educated, upper-middle class middle aged white guys. So, “Hi. My name’s Nate”. Anyway, my epiphany has been slow (which may mean it’s not an epiphany, but whatever), and has been led in large part by conversations with my 17-year-old bleeding heart daughter. White privilege is real. Most people resist it because they tend to see things in black and white, in “either/or”. As in, I got where I am today either because I worked hard or because of white privilege. In reality, I have worked hard to get where I am, but I started a much, much farther point down the path because of the privileged situation I grew up in. And there are many who started ahead of me and have not worked as hard. And many behind me who have worked much harder than I have.
In your previous post, you talked of the emotional pretext that shrouds much of our conversation. I think that much of the current zeitgeist, with Trump’s ascendancy, Brexit, neo-isolationism, and the resistance to messages about privilege boil down to the same thing: resistance to change. Don’t tell me that I have to change. And don’t tell me that I have not earned my position in life.
And, to an extent which varies for each of us, we do earn our position in life. But it is dishonest to pretend that we all started at the same spot, and that where we are is simply a function of will and hard work.
Yup.
Maybe an aside – certainly it shouldn’t dominate the discussion — but, I saw someone suggest that “privilege” maybe triggers more resistance than a term like, say, “structural advantage” might. People think of the Vanderbilts or Rockefellers when they hear about privilege.
Also:
Hi Nate! One day at a time!
Interesting discussion. I think it is particularly difficult to discuss privilege with people who are not upper middle class or above, and who are struggling. While yes, an upper middle class person may have trouble realizing the advantages s/he may have started with, in time, I think most people do come to realize they have had some advantages.
But what of the blue collar or working class white person who is tumbling down the economic ladder (assuming a ladder even exists)? They may not think that having friends and family get them job opportunities is an advantage. They tend to think that minorities never deserve any achievements. Look at the rage against President Obama. He’s obviously had to work hard to get what he has, but try telling that to your typical Trump supporter. I certainly can say that as an educated black woman who grew up in a middle class to upper middle class family, I still have people treat me as if I can barely read and write, talk condescendingly toward me, etc. I actually had to quit a job a couple of years ago because of a hostile work environment created by a racist person in the office.
I didn’t reach any conclusions, but I wondered how receptive someone on the low end of the privilege scale in America would be to the message from, say, a Somalian that, as an American, he or she is very privileged.