Privilege: Not just for White Guys
Lets talk about privilege for a second…
Last night I was out to dinner with friends and one of them asked if I skied or snowboarded (a common question to anyone in Colorado especially if you’re a “native” like I am).
I told him I learned when I was younger but when my parents stopped paying for my lift tickets and equipment, I was no longer able to afford it and I didn’t have the money to participate in the sport.
A small disagreement ensued about how he thought I should have made it a bigger priority in my life through high school and college.
I reiterated to him that I couldn’t afford it since the start up cost to skiing is roughly a grand, yet he was simply dumbfounded how I couldn’t afford and prioritize the sport.
I ended the conversation by simply stating that I was not fortunate enough to even let it make the list of financial priorities I had in my life over the past 8 years.
This small disagreement got me thinking about a larger issue on privilege and what it is.
First off, privilege is a special advantage that is only available to a certain person or group of people.
Most people are born with a certain level of privilege… whether it be your race, social status, ability, gender, native language, access to education, country you were born in, etc.
Privilege isn’t bad, but it’s dangerous. It’s dangerous because people often tend to ignore privilege.
Ignoring your own or someone else’s privilege sets up a paradox leading to judgment, excuses, disdain, or worse hate.
I am privileged… I have been lucky enough to have the access to public education, graduated from college (which puts me in the top 6% of the world’s population), to be white, to live in the United States of America, to have a home with running water, electricity, and amenities, to speak English as my native language, to identify as heterosexual, to be Christian in society that is predominantly Christian as well, etc.
If I don’t recognize my privilege, then I become callus to the world: I see anyone without a degree as uneducated.
I see anyone who’s non-American as either poor or an illegal immigrant.
I see anyone homeless as an addict or a bum.
I see anyone who is LGBT as unworthy of love.
By ignoring my privilege, I ignore the reality around me: we’re all just people trying to find love and acceptance.
Identifying your privilege doesn’t make you a bad person; it shouldn’t make you feel guilty. It’s a part of who you are, and it directs how to move forward in life.
The next part of recognizing privilege is then how to use it to help people with less privilege.
That’s the true goal in identifying privilege: helping others.
By recognizing that I have access to education I can speak for those who don’t. I am able to help come up with ways to provide sustainable housing to the homeless because I don’t have to worry about where I’m going to sleep at night. I am able to speak and fight for rights and acceptance and love for a LGBT community even if I don’t share their same sexual preferences. I am able to recognize that there are radicals in any group of people religious or other, and one person that is filled with hate does not outweigh the many that are filled with love.
As I can help others with the privilege I have, I need others to help me because of the privileges I don’t have.
To quote the iconic words of John Donne, “No man is an island, entire of itself.”
Ignoring or doing nothing with your privilege is what makes you guilty of being a bad person.
It is the responsibility of the privileged to help those with less — to make sure that everyone has a fighting chance at life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
