The Beginning of Privilege

      This blog is intended to be an honest, unflinching, and thoughtful appraisal of my experiences with race.  The purpose is both personal and public.  Personally, I want to grow in both my understanding and action on this topic.  I do believe that if one is not a part of the solution, then one is part of the problem.  But it isn't always clear HOW to be a part of the solution.  I hope that this blog will be a piece of that process for me.

      Publicly, I hope to inspire others.  I hope other people can learn from both my progress and my mistakes.  Just as I hope this blog will help me be more mindful of the issues at hand, I hope reading it and/or discussing its contents will do the same for others.  I also intend to invite guest posts, to keep me accountable and vary the perspective.

      So, full disclosure: I am a White, full able bodied, middle-class, highly educated woman.  I was raised in an economically comfortable neighborhood near a privileged city in late 20th century America.  I was raised in a Christian faith, in a loving, non-violent household, by two heterosexual, college-educated, White parents.  These were the privileges given to me at birth.
      Then there are the privileges I chose for myself, although I did not think of them as such at the time.  I chose to graduate high school, and to go to college.  Then, I chose to continue my education with a Master's degree.  I chose to study and pursue a career in psychology, which - being the study of human thought and behavior - frankly gives me a mild advantage in almost everything I do.  And I chose to marry a White, heterosexual man with the same privileges as myself.
      There are privileges I have chosen to forego.  I choose to base my career in the non-profit sector, because I want to be available to low-income clients.  That means taking a hit to my potential income.  I choose to relinquish a number of technological advantages, namely: I don't own a television, I don't have cable, and I don't use a smartphone.  And, depending on how you look at it, I trade one privilege for another by choosing not to wear make-up, style my hair, or wear high-heeled shoes.  I choose to purchase the majority of my clothing second-hand.

You could say that my childhood was a lot like one of Norman Rockwell's idyllic paintings...

      But don't misunderstand me, these choices don't put me anywhere near the same playing field as someone who is unable to access these privileges--because for me it is a choice.  A lot of people are dealt a very different hand at birth than I was, and those choices are never before them.  And there are other, far more important choices I could have made, that would have made me uncomfortable and help me grow a lot faster.
      I could have chosen to live in a neighborhood where I would be an ethnic minority, but I didn't.  I could choose to become fluent in another language to better serve my clients, but so far I haven't.  I could choose to get rid of my car, and just take public transit, but I don't.  Again: I have the privilege of making those choices.

...then again, Norman Rockwell also used his paintings to depict the less idyllic aspects of the nation, as with his iconic 1964 illustration for Look magazine, entitled: The Problem We All Live With.

      When I write in this blog, I will be coming from a position of privilege: racial privilege, economic privilege, sexual privilege, and more.  I know that will make me naive in some areas, and downright wrong in others.  But I hope that in documenting my evolving perception, I can help other people challenge their perceptions, also.  I hope this can be a tool for raising awareness.  And I really, really hope that people who read this will feel free to comment, question, and challenge me.

Creating Space to Grow

      I'm not going to lie: starting this blog is making me feel more nervous than I expected.  Part of that may be because I'm not really super tech savvy, so I'm kind of waiting to do something wrong.  Part of it may be embarrassment because I always wonder at my hubris whenever I think somebody else should care about stuff I have to say.  But honestly, a big part of it is the inspiration behind this blog: to write about race, prejudice, politics, and growth.
      These are very hot topics.  The odds of me not offending somebody are pretty low (more likely I'll offend several somebodies).  I'm worried I'll get in trouble, somehow.  I'm worried I'll get major internet Trolls on my ass.  I'm worried I may lose friends, or create friction in my family.  I'm worried I'll look like a coward (I am starting off anonymously, after all--that may change, but for now I'm keeping my real name under wraps).  I'm worried this will make it harder for me to realize some of my dearest ambitions.  I'm even worried this may somehow impact my job, and my career means more to me than I can say.
      And here are the kickers: a) I don't think that this blog is going to be that big, and b) I'm White.

      Imagine if I were writing this and I wasn't White.
      That's the thought that keeps me going.  That, and something a person I respect very deeply said to me during a conversation about racism.  He said that he had given up his grand vision of what he thought he should be doing to disassemble racism, because he realized it was unlikely to happen.  Rather, he had recognized and embraced his own talents, and decided to use them as effectively as he could.  That resonated with me.  Yes, I think that if I really got off my ass and worked on it I could put together big marches through my state capitol.  But I also think that my real talent lies with words, in loquacity if not in eloquence.  I also think I have a talent for understanding people.  So here's my attempt to use my talents to make a difference.
      I did not intend to start this blog like this.  I'd actually written out a thoughtful, meaningful post to get the ball rolling.  But I plan to make myself uncomfortable in this blog, because real growth requires pushing oneself to go outside one's comfort zone.  So I'm starting off very raw, and very real.  This is me, being nervous, and feeling kind of stupid, and pushing ahead anyway.  I'll do the well-thought-out post next time.
      Hopefully you'll still be reading.