My White Privilege

I never thought of myself as privileged, you see as a woman I am part of a marginalized group so I assumed it didn’t apply to me. I mean I have experienced what it’s like to be judged by the way I look, to earn less than a male co-worker, to be seen as someone who is less than and weaker, and to understand what it’s like to have someone think my successes were not my own and I must have had help from a man. I had created a definition of white privilege as a title only rich old guys- the kind that get “pardoned” for things like paying for under age prostitutes by their connections and money or white young guys who get into Harvard because their family has made major financial contributions that paid for their entrance could hold. 

I certainly was wrong in the definition of white privilege I created in my own mind. 

I read something a couple days ago that changed something inside me. It said that being silent to racism because it is a deeply hard conversation to hold is being racist. By allowing it and not standing up for what is right, we are actively participating in it.

Although I fundamentally already knew this, reading that hit me really hard emotionally. I felt it. I have to admit I have been guilty of that silence- partly because I don’t really know what to say or do, partly because I am afraid of doing it wrong, but mostly because it is extremely uncomfortable. I realize now that my choice to be silent kills. My avoidance because of feeling uncomfortable kills. It kills men like George Floyd and that is something I cannot live with. 

It’s hard for me to admit my participation in this, I view myself as a kind and compassionate person that isn’t racist, but it doesn’t compare to how hard it is to lose your brother because of his skin color. Besides it’s not about me or my feelings. It’s about an entire community of people that live in fear that their husband, brother, or son might be killed by someone who is supposed to protect them because of their skin color. It’s about an entire community of people that have multi-generational trauma passed down to them in their DNA since their ancestors were stolen and put on ships to become slaves here in America, “land of the free”. It’s about an entire community of people that have never been seen or heard. It’s so much more than this and our soil has been soaked with their blood for too long. 

While I sit here in my safe home typing this I can’t begin to imagine what it’s like to be a member of that community. I have no idea what that kind of pain and hopelessness feels like. I do not know what that kind of fear feels like. 

That is my white privilege. 

So today I am acknowledging my own white privilege and ignorance. It’s a place where I know I can start and not remain silent any longer. It’s a place that I can acknowledge my own participation in the racist roots that run deep in our culture. It’s a place I hope will start the healing that is needed. My heart is open. My mind is open. We are all one and I understand how my inaction impacts us all. 

To my black friends- I see you, I hear you, and I love you.