About a month ago, I sat down to write some personal reflections about
race and reconciliation. I expected it to be an easy flowing process, but as it turns out I have more fear in sharing about tough topics than I thought. It was also difficult to take almost 9 years of processing about white privilege and white identity and filter than into a readable blog post.
As I looked through old reflections and journals, I found a reflection from a Sociology class I wrote during my sophomore year at Cal Poly, and I feel this sums up some of my experiences of interacting with white privilege as a young college student. Some background: We did an activity called the
Race Race - where our class was asked a series of questions about our lives (if our parents went to college, if we were raised by single parents, if we saw our gender or race represented in the media, etc.) that either allowed us to step forward or step backwards.
Here were my thoughts as a 20 year old college student from that activity and about white privilege as a whole:
"In the privilege exercise we can see developing patterns of who has what. Many of us with privilege are born into it, not to say we don’t work hard to keep our status, but we were given opportunities to keep ourselves there. Many of us (not all) are white. Many of them at the very front (not all) are men. And some of us as we walk back to the classroom feel a sudden surge of guilt in the pit of our stomachs as we turn around to see some of friends and classmates far behind us. So why is this? The question we are asked is why do we feel guilty for our advantages?
A lot of this white privilege comes from the communities we live in. Our own history has even widened the gap of available resources to white communities and those living in largely minority or people of color communities. Take for instance The Federal Housing Act of 1934, it had the possibility to bridge the racial gap that had been in existence since the formation of our nation. Millions of citizens were within reach of owning their own home by placing the credit of the federal government behind private lending to home buyers. However the overtly racist categories in the FHA’s “confidential” city surveys and appraisers’ manuals lead to the money being placed in the hands of white homeowners and stripped from communities of color.
And now look at the No Child Left Behind program. Instead of giving money into the schools that truly need it, they allow students to attend the schools that are performing better. Instead of providing opportunities for all in concentrates those in poverty so they all live in the same neighborhood, attend the same schools, and receive less opportunities. Not to say they can’t get to the same place as those wealthier than they, but it is inherently more difficult. It’s no wonder those of us who come from privilege homes feel guilty at times because we can see than there was a lot we did not do to receive that status. Of course we worked hard, just like anyone. But so did they, in fact, those who come from impoverished communities may have worked harder.
I like how Booker T. Washington put it in his book Up From Slavery: “I have learned that success is to be measured not so much by the position that one has reached in life as by the obstacles which he has overcome while trying to succeed... But out of the hard and unusual struggle through which he is compelled to pass, he gets a strength, a confidence, that one misses whose pathway is comparatively smooth by reason of birth and race.” Personally, I’ve received many blessings and opportunities from the life my parents wanted me to have. Here I sit, in a prestigious school earning something only 1 percent of the world can get: a college degree. I need not feel guilty of what I have been given and perhaps I am actually missing out on something when I don’t have to struggle as much to succeed.
But that doesn’t give me the excuse to ignore the needs of those below them. In fact, in order to break this cycle of institutional racism and oppression, it must start from the top. And that is where I think we who have privilege often fail, is we focus so much on personal success that we don’t give thought to our brothers and sisters below us, fighting to survive. And that is maybe why I feel guilty, because I haven’t done my part to help.
One of the big questions I wrestled with as a young college student (and even still to this day) was what to do with my already given privilege and how to feel about having it. It is one of the biggest questions I still often have to wrestle with to this day - especially as I engage with what it means to be both white and middle eastern but someone who looks white - I still "get" all the privilege that comes with being white in America. And it's easy to deny having it (or that white privilege exists) or to feel overwhelming guilty about it.
Neither is truly helpful, neither is truly beneficial. We don't determine our privilege when we are born but we can chose what we do with it. Learning how to engage with this is a circular process. Some days I chose well - I listen to others, I find great ways to steward my privilege, and I stay engaged with the struggles of my friends and neighbors. Some days I chose poorly and I check out, I speak too much (or not enough), and I live in fear or shame. Next week (or maybe month), I'll reflect on how to live out a life of stewarding white privilege well.
Note - for those not having interacted with the term "white privilege" before, I encourage you to read the articles listed below. They give a great description of what this looks like, how this influences our society, and even what to do with it:
