Most white people I know do not consider themselves to be racist. That’s an ugly word that brings up images of people yelling the n-word at little black girls trying to desegregate Southern schools, or hooded Ku Klux Klan members burning crosses on lawns.
But there is something else which divides people more subtly, someting of which most of us middle-class white people are not so aware–and that is privilege. What do I mean by privilege? I mean that we take for granted advantages that others do not have and in fact may be far removed from their experience. We may even assume that we all start out on some kind of equal footing, and that we, in fact, have been successful because of our splendid judgment and hard work.
This reminds me of a New Yorker cartoon that I saw years ago. Two men are talking in a fancy corp office, and the one says to the other, “And what do you owe your success to?” And the other says, “I’d say being at the right place at the right time–and being born to the right parents and going to the right schools and having plenty of money.”
We assume certain things, don’t we, most of us? And those assumptions have to do with class, mainly. We assume that we will never go hungry. We assume that we will wear shoes that fit–indeed, shoes that are fashionable. We assume that if we get in a fix financially, someone will be there to help us out. We assume that we will go to college and get some kind of professional job or other at some point. We assume that if we are not served properly in a place of business, it is our right to speak with the manager and ask for redress. And on and on. What we may not be aware of is that huge numbers of people–at least 20-25 percent of the population–never make such assumptions. Would not, could not.
One summer I went to breakfast with my son Madison in our home state of Kentucky–we went to “Cracker Barrel,” where he had waited tables during the summers of his college years. The waitress asked me, “Would you like orange juice?” and I asked, “Is it fresh squeezed?” She answered, “No,” and I said I would pass. When she left our table, Madison chided me: “You’re so elitist!” he said. “Don’t you know what kind of restaurant this is? This is the people’s restaurant–of course they don’t have fresh squeezed orange juice! Look at the prices. All kinds of people come here to eat, but a lot of the food is cheap enough for poor people. Fresh squeezed orange juice–I’m so embarrassed!” Well, leave it to your children to keep you humble.
It’s not that privileged people need to feel guilty that we’re privileged–guilt rarely is healthful or productive. But we do need to be aware. Everyone does not see the world through our eyes. Everyone does not go through the world with the assumption that their needs will be met, and that they in fact deserve to have their needs met. And what I think I need as a middle-class person may be very different from the needs of someone who wonders how she’s going to put food on the table for her children that very evening.
With increased awareness, we become kinder, more generous, less judgmental: spiritual gifts which come as we open our eyes to the experience of others, and awaken to differences that divide.
