"I was taught..."
White Privilege.
What was I taught about it? From what I can remember of all the years of my life leading up to college... nothing.
Not a single thing stands out to me. I should remember learning about how to address my biases, or how I will treated better than others because of my skin color, or how not everyone in this life gets a fair start.
But I do remember these words from my mom, "Be kind. Treat everyone with kindness. Regardless of who they are." Maybe that was her way of trying to make the impact when she didn't have the right words to say. How was she supposed to know how to teach her little white daughter that her life is going to be easier because of her skin color when she was still trying to teach me that everyone is equally deserving of my kindness, meaning that "we're all equal?" She was on the right track though. Be kind. Above all else, to everyone, be kind.
These words stuck with me as we read Peggy McIntosh's article "White Privilege" in class. What we covered on this topic carried over into the dinner I had with the president of the university and his wife as we talked about free speech and a University's responsibility to handle "situations" like the one we've had this past weekend.
We had JUST spend the full hour and fifteen minutes of class unpacking the invisible knapsack of white privilege when I showed up to the president's house for a round table discussion and entered into a room filled entirely of young white students. My senses were already heightened on the thoughts of diversity, racism, and whiteness, so walking into that room made me cringe. Be kind.
I spent the next two and a half hours listening carefully to ideas these students had, their opinions, their biases, and piped up to educate when I could.
However, the one thing pressing on my mind as we discussed the impact of the single video was the lack of conversation about everything else happening in the aftermath. I brought it up. Not a single person knew of the hashtag, #WUcandobetter, nor about the stories students were telling of the discrimination or blatant racism they have faced on our campus, and some students openly claimed they had no idea why students who felt they were being treated unjust couldn't just go talk to said peer/professor/faculty... Be kind. Be Kind. BE KIND.
I was staring into a room full of white privilege, and they had NO idea it was on their backs.
My mom tried to teach me about the woes of the world, in a round about way. I'm sure all of these students' moms did too. Or maybe a teacher or awesome coach. But the weight of these knapsacks in the room was so heavy it should have broken through the floor.
I wasn't truly taught until I came to Washburn to check my biases, conscious and unconscious. I am taught every single day through listening to the experiences of my peers how it is my own privilege that puts them at a disadvantage. I openly see how other students struggle while I am succeeding, and realize I can never know that struggle, and that is my privilege.
I was taught in my classes, by my professors and my peers, how racism is more than "individual acts of meanness."
I was taught that my whiteness has been the thing that pushes me forward towards success, while its holding my counterparts back.
I was taught when I was little to be kind. To everyone. Today I am kind by educating myself, by checking my privilege when I can, and by grabbing hold of the hands of those around me as my whiteness propels me forward so others can benefit from my privilege, too.
I was taught, I am being taught, and I will continue to learn about this every day. My privilege exists. Now I have to figure out how to use it for others.
What was I taught about it? From what I can remember of all the years of my life leading up to college... nothing.
Not a single thing stands out to me. I should remember learning about how to address my biases, or how I will treated better than others because of my skin color, or how not everyone in this life gets a fair start.
But I do remember these words from my mom, "Be kind. Treat everyone with kindness. Regardless of who they are." Maybe that was her way of trying to make the impact when she didn't have the right words to say. How was she supposed to know how to teach her little white daughter that her life is going to be easier because of her skin color when she was still trying to teach me that everyone is equally deserving of my kindness, meaning that "we're all equal?" She was on the right track though. Be kind. Above all else, to everyone, be kind.
These words stuck with me as we read Peggy McIntosh's article "White Privilege" in class. What we covered on this topic carried over into the dinner I had with the president of the university and his wife as we talked about free speech and a University's responsibility to handle "situations" like the one we've had this past weekend.
We had JUST spend the full hour and fifteen minutes of class unpacking the invisible knapsack of white privilege when I showed up to the president's house for a round table discussion and entered into a room filled entirely of young white students. My senses were already heightened on the thoughts of diversity, racism, and whiteness, so walking into that room made me cringe. Be kind.
I spent the next two and a half hours listening carefully to ideas these students had, their opinions, their biases, and piped up to educate when I could.
However, the one thing pressing on my mind as we discussed the impact of the single video was the lack of conversation about everything else happening in the aftermath. I brought it up. Not a single person knew of the hashtag, #WUcandobetter, nor about the stories students were telling of the discrimination or blatant racism they have faced on our campus, and some students openly claimed they had no idea why students who felt they were being treated unjust couldn't just go talk to said peer/professor/faculty... Be kind. Be Kind. BE KIND.
I was staring into a room full of white privilege, and they had NO idea it was on their backs.
My mom tried to teach me about the woes of the world, in a round about way. I'm sure all of these students' moms did too. Or maybe a teacher or awesome coach. But the weight of these knapsacks in the room was so heavy it should have broken through the floor.
I wasn't truly taught until I came to Washburn to check my biases, conscious and unconscious. I am taught every single day through listening to the experiences of my peers how it is my own privilege that puts them at a disadvantage. I openly see how other students struggle while I am succeeding, and realize I can never know that struggle, and that is my privilege.
I was taught in my classes, by my professors and my peers, how racism is more than "individual acts of meanness."
I was taught that my whiteness has been the thing that pushes me forward towards success, while its holding my counterparts back.
I was taught when I was little to be kind. To everyone. Today I am kind by educating myself, by checking my privilege when I can, and by grabbing hold of the hands of those around me as my whiteness propels me forward so others can benefit from my privilege, too.
I was taught, I am being taught, and I will continue to learn about this every day. My privilege exists. Now I have to figure out how to use it for others.
Comments
Post a Comment