The Strange Paradox of White Privilege
And why it generates rage and shame
I had a conversation with a person the other day who told me the term white privilege made him think about sin. “It’s kind of a Calvinist idea,” he said. “It’s something you’re born with, and you can’t really get rid of, and you’re supposed to spend all this time repenting for it.”
A few days later, I saw a column by David Brooks that made almost the same point. Lamenting the five “epic crises” upon our current culture: the other four of which were quite vast—COVID-19, racism against African Americans, the public’s rejection of Republicans, and an economic depression — Brooks also included “Social Justice,” (his capitalization) in the list, which he called a “quasi-religion.” There it was again. This characterization of what is largely a social movement against violence, and particularly violence targeted at Black people, as instead a fundamentalist religion, bent on creating zealots who fervently root out illusory “sins” among the flock.
I thought back to some of the less skillful diversity trainings I’ve attended over the years, in which participants are asked to verbally “acknowledge” or “admit” to “having” white privilege. They couldn’t see it; they didn’t ask for it; they didn’t want it; and yet, somehow, they were supposed to own it.
