Sunday, January 29, 2017

White Privilege and a Call to Action


I received some feedback about the blog I posted on Friday which was quite hurtful, frustrating, and disturbing.  I was accused of whining throughout my post and that everything that I had written about screamed ‘Woe is me … and spoke of how entitled I am.”  This was completely not what I intended, nor, do I see how this was a conclusion based on what I wrote.   I have spent the last 4 years working in inner city St. Paul and asking open questions of the clients that I am with about how race not only effects our therapeutic relationship, but how it effects their daily lives.  I can’t change the color of my skin any more than others can change theirs.  Regardless, I want to address white privilege and what we can do about it. 

I have recently finished reading the book Small Great Things by Jodi Piccoult.   I’m going to include a few quotes from that book here because I think she has written clearly what I want to present to my readers.

            “I know you think nothing’s changed, and maybe it hasn’t for you.  But for me, it has,” I say.  “I hear you, loud and clear.  I may not deserve it, but I’m begging you to give me one last chance.”
            “Why should I?” Ruth asks, a challenge.
            “Because I told you once I don’t see color… and now, it’s all I see.”
            She starts for the door.  “I don’t need your pity.”
            “You’re right.” I nod.  “You need equity.”
            Ruth stops walking, still facing away from me.  “You mean equality,” she corrects.
            “No, I mean equity.  Equality is treating everyone the same. But equity is taking differences into account, so everyone has a chance to succeed.”  I look at her.  “The first one sounds fair.  The second one is fair.  It’s equal to give a printed test to two kids.  But if one’s blind and one’s sighted, that’s not true. You ought to give one a Braille test and one a printed test, which both cover the same material.  All this time, I’ve been giving the jury a print test, because I didn’t realize that they’re blind.  That I was blind.  Please, Ruth. I think you’ll like hearing what I have to say.”
            Slowly, Ruth turns around.  “One last chance,” she agrees.  (pg.427)

I hadn’t read the part about equality versus equity before writing my previous post.  I know from my work, that equality isn’t what people really think it is.  It is what the white person thinks is best for the various ethnicities across the world (in essence perpetuating white privilege).  Merriam-Webster defines equal as “like for each member of a group, class, or society”.  This makes sense – and it is what we, as an American people have been taught.  But equity, as defined by Merriam-Webster, is “justice according to natural law or right; specifically: freedom from bias or favoritism.”  Now, that definition – that is what I want for all people… and I think that if you think about it this is what you want for all American people, as well. 

Consider this…

            “I look right at juror number 12, the teacher.  “Finish this sentence,” I say.  I am …?” I pause at the blank.  “Maybe you’d answer: shy.  Or blond.  Friendly.  Nervous, intelligent, Irish.  But the majority of you wouldn’t say white.  Why not?  Because it’s a given.  It’s identity that is taken for granted.  Those of us who were lucky enough to be born white are oblivious to that good fortune.  Now, we’re all blissfully unmindful of lots of things.  Probably, you did not give thanks for showering this morning, or for having a roof over your head last night.  For eating breakfast and having clean underwear.  That’s because all those invisible privileges are easy to take in stride.”  (Piccoult, 2016, p.429).

Does reading that make you uncomfortable?  Does it make you think?  What kind of feelings are raised in side of you? 

When my furnace died a few weeks ago, my immediate thought was that I couldn’t possibly afford to fix my furnace… I couldn’t afford anything extra right now.  And then that same night, when all I wanted was to take a warm shower… my shower didn’t work.   I used to take for granted something as simple as my shower… of all things that go wrong and break in my house, I did not expect my shower to fail on me.   That night I had a bite of my pride taken away.  God knew that in order to open my eyes and humble me that I needed to know the things that I take for granted.

This whole process of learning what it is like not to have sucks.  It’s an unhappy process.  It’s an unequal process.  It’s not fair.   To continue to have to be responsible and pay my bills, to not live off of someone else's generosity, to know that you have someone in your life that is essentially living for free off of your good will pisses me off.  To only buy what I absolutely need and now what I or the kids want.  This is not equal.  This is not fair.  This is what my last post was about.  This does not have anything to do with white privilege. 

            “When I was researching this book, I asked white mothers how often they talked about racism with their children.  Some said occasionally; some admitted they never discussed it.  When I asked the same question of black mothers, they all said, Every day.
            I’ve come to see that ignorance is a privilege, too.
            So what have I learned that is helpful?  Well, if you are white, like I am, you can’t get rid of the privilege you have, but you can use it for good.  Don’t say I don’t even notice race! like it’s a positive thing. Instead recognize that differences between people make it harder for some to cross a finish line, and create fair paths to success for everyone that accommodate those differences.  Educate yourself.  If you think someone’s voice is I being ignored, tell others to listen.  If your friend makes a racist joke, call him out on it, instead of just going along with it.” (Piccoult, 2016, p. 463). 
 
"If I cannot do great things, I can do small things in a great way."  -Martin Luther King Jr

Take Martin Lutheran King, Jr’s words to heart and go – make a difference in your community; fight for equity, educate yourself, and teach others.

Friday, January 27, 2017

Being Middle Class... Poor

I watch the protests and marches on television and social media; and I'm left thinking "What difference are you actually making?". Seriously... put your politics aside and ask yourself to make a factual observation of your words and actions.  You have the money to be able to take time off work and march, to travel to DC and march, to take pictures with your smart phone and march.  I have been so disgusted with a large populace of the American people over the last three months.  If you really want to make a difference start within your own community.  Open your eyes to disparities right next to you and do something about it.  Be the change that you want to see.

I have the pleasure of living in St. Paul Park.  For those that don't know - I do not live in St. Paul proper.  I live in a small town southeast of St. Paul with several different cultural groups and all economic statuses.  My children have grown up with children of all races and have been raised next to affluent families and those less fortunate than us.  They go to an amazing school with teachers that actually care about building relationships with the students that are in their care.  My children and their friends are growing up learning the value of getting along with others despite different beliefs (faith, politics, etc.).  I'm grateful to live in St. Paul Park.  I certainly don't have (nor could I afford) the latest gadgets or best kept home and yard... and I don't need to. I am accepted for who I am.  I wouldn't want it any other way because my neighbors and I come together and share our skills and resources with one another when one of us needs a helping hand.

Hearing about these marches and protests about equality and rights has me thinking.... I don't want to be equal.

Let me say that again... I do NOT want to be equal.

I don't want equal treatment.  To me, being equal means that I would never know the struggle of paying bills, losing a home, or not being able to put food on the table or gas in my car.  It means never having to make a choice not to go to church because you need the gas to drive 30 miles to/from work on Monday.  It means never having to shop at Goodwill or the thrift store for clothes.  It means never learning the true value of money or how blessed we  - as an American people - really are.

A couple of years ago, I almost lost my home... as in within days of losing the house I had learned to call home.  This past summer I discontinued our internet subscription.  I told everyone (because of pride) that it was because I wanted to have more family time, I didn't want my kids to be glued to their tablets, and I didn't want it to become a problem in my home.  But the reality was that I simply couldn't afford it; even if those other things are true.  In the last several months I have struggled with knowing that I although I make a decent commission - my paycheck is gone by the time it is in my bank account.  A large portion of this most recent reality check is because I stopped receiving child support.  And although a goal of mine has been not to rely on child support to help pay the bills, that is not yet my reality.  I don't mismanage my money and I live on a strict budget.  If you see me walking around with a Caribou or Starbucks I would bet that my mom bought it for me, I had a gift card, or it's just the cup and I made it at home.

And guess what, I value the situation that I am in.  I have had to rely on some financial support from my family (the bank of mom and dad) to help cover my bills.  I have had to learn how to have conversations with my children about money and what I can and cannot pay for for them.  I don't qualify for any sort of financial assistance through the county because I make too much money; and that's okay.  There was a time when I did qualify and I know how hard I worked to get out of that cycle.  Thank goodness my local food shelf is not income based.

And with all of this, I would rather be middle class poor and make a direct difference within my community because I will know the value of hard work and the value of what I have earned.  I will know what it is like to be judged for going to the food shelf, applying for emergency energy assistance, to have to say no to social outings because I'm a single mom, or not participate in extra things because of the cost.  So, you go ahead and march or protest... I hope it feels good.  I'll be over here supporting my community by volunteering, making meals, shoveling/snow blowing/mowing lawns and driveways, or any other way that I can get out and make a difference to those that are less fortunate than me.