Contemplating White Privilege

I read a blog the other day that a friend posted. In it, the author lamented being exhausted to the point of not being able to go on by “well-meaning white people.” It struck me. I’ll not discount the experience of another person, but the assumption that my white face might somehow exempt me from the trials and tribulations of this life was a bit much for me, especially during this season in my life, when there are many days when I truly wonder if I can get through one more day.

If I look at another person and judge them as “privileged,” am I not also saying that I am NOT privileged, or somehow LESS privileged? When I look at another person and decide they have more than I do, or that their life is somehow better or easier than mine, all I’m really saying is that I am not content with my own life. I don’t actually know enough about anyone else’s life to make that judgment. I don’t know their pain or the level of work and sacrifice they have put into getting where they are. I don’t know their family or how their upbringing has shaped who they are. Would I REALLY want to trade lives with anyone else? Would the author REALLY want to trade lives with me? Because my life would not produce the person she is today. Is she really that dissatisfied with who she is?

And while we’re on this idea of privilege, I can think of very few Americans who can rightfully say that they are NOT privileged. Who among us is at daily risk of being bombed? Who has experienced human slavery or trafficking? Who has no access to clean drinking water? Who has had literally everything they’ve owned or worked for destroyed by an enemy? During these perilous days on our planet, do we, as Americans, have ANY right to feel sorry for ourselves or to demand sympathy from each other, when we really should focus our attention to those who are TRULY in need?

I’m not saying the author has never been mistreated. I AM saying that she should not assume that my white face has exempted me from the same mistreatment and some she has not personally experienced. Not because I’m white, but because I’m ME. Each of us has experiences in life that have shaped who we are. And as much as I would love to be more or better than the person I am, I have no reason to look at other people and make any assumptions about why their life looks better than mine at this particular moment in time. I have NO IDEA what experiences have shaped the life of the next person. If I want my life to be different, the only person I can look at is ME.

You can call me “well-meaning” or “privileged” or whatever you will. Could we both go further if we supported each other, knowing that this world can dish out enough damage for both of us?

Sincerely,

A Well-Meaning White Person