#privilge

“Today, I see more people.. more woman.. than I have ever seen at a protest!”

Fists pump, claps, whistles, hollers. Cheers bellowed out all around me.

“Specifically, white woman… and this is wonderful… but, I have to ask, why now?”

A hush fell over the crowd, cheers overcome by the awkward tension created when asking people to come face to face with their privilege.

After walking for hours in the cold rain, my fingers had lost all color and feeling, my body was drenched and chilled to the core, and I was only planning to make a pit stop at the porta-potties before I trudged back across the city to my home. It was a somber day for me, throughout the march I had remained mostly silent — observing sadness, pain, fear, denial, anger — in the crowd around me. I was marching as an ally for my marginalized, exploited, discriminated, and oppressed sisters and brothers, for the protection of their rights, safety, health, and families. I was marching for myself, a woman and survivor of sexual abuse, coercive relationships, an eating disorder, and emotional traumas. Although I was moved by the strength of incredible citizens marching by my side, I also felt like a very tiny ant at the bottom of a very long and steep hill.

I wasn’t planning to stay for the speeches at the end of the march, my fingers were dangerously cold and my bones rattled with my shivers. The woman speaking at the end of the march had taken an aggressive stance towards the white women in the crowd. Instead of patting us on the back for standing up for what we believe in, she asked us to look deeper. She asked us to examine our privileges, to raise our voices, to join the resistance.

“Where were you for our Black Lives Matter rallies?” deafening silence.

“Or when we rallied for “Standing Rock?” utter stillness.

As I began walking away, I told myself it was because I was cold, not planning to stay for the speech anyway, and I already understood her reason for pointing out privilege. I repeated this to myself as she pled with the crowd that had turned away from her. I repeated this to myself as I walked the cold miles home, my fingers losing color and my legs throbbing from the cold. I kept repeating it to myself as the words haunted me throughout the evening I spent in my warm house, justifying my actions with sympathetic friends. And I kept repeating it for a week, until I finally called bullshit on myself.

I walked away from that woman because she was forcing me to examine something that was incredibly uncomfortable. While I have spent time investigating my white, cis-gendered, middle class, graduate-school-educated, able-bodied, heterosexual-tending, American identity, I have not been as vocal about my privilege within myself or my community as needs to be. Hell, in college I worked in public health and I sucked up as many women’s studies and sociology classes as I could. My intrigue and dedication to personal and community growth is abounding. My empathy, and ability to viscerally feel pain, sorrow, triggered-trauma-rage and fear of those around me is at times overwhelming. My dedication and knowledge on the subject does not excuse me from continuing to reflect on my own privilege.  This is a nice visual: 

This wasn’t the first time my privilege has been brought to my attention, halting me in my blind-walk through a self-centered life. Fortunately, brave individuals have graced me with priceless insight on my insensitive, unconscious, and offensive thoughts, words, and behavior. Of course, I like to think of myself as a caring, responsible, aware individual… Don’t we all? But, it is my duty as someone who is dedicated to the liberation of all individuals, regardless of gender identity, religion, economic status, ability level, sexual orientation, citizenship, education level, gender etc. to :

Swallow my pride.

Listen hard to those around me who have experienced oppression, discrimination, injustice due to their identity and/or background.

Examine my personal life circumstance, my privileges and my duty as an ally to ensure equality and liberation for all individuals

Acknowledge and give thanks to those who have stood up in the past for my current freedoms

Speak up when I see/hear/feel societal privilege taking place (media, in groups etc)

Continue to engage in events that push me out of my comfort zone to further evolve as  a human dedicated to change.

As I finally called myself out on my morning walk, I realized that to this day, after multiple wake up calls, I had a difficult time acknowledging my privilege. The woman speaking to us at the March was not trying to shame me. She wasn’t trying to divide our group or hurt me. She was simply doing the work that must be done to ensure equality of all individuals- forcing me to dive even deeper to see how I experience opportunities and services differently due to my identities and background.