On Privilege

I’ve had writer’s block lately.

Normally I like to talk about things like nonprofit management or marketing and communications. But how can I talk about those things when the world is falling apart around us?

I’ve felt the need to say something about race. About #BlackLivesMatter. About institutional racism. But I didn’t know what to say or if I should even say anything at all. I’m white – should I be opening my mouth right now? Everything seemed like a wrong move, so I’ve just been sitting here, hoping someone will tell me what to do to make things better.

But yesterday I was on Facebook and a friend shared a blog post she had stumbled upon, with the comment “Want to see something gross?”

Here is the blog post in its entirety, minus the picture of actress Kristin Stewart and her new girlfriend that accompanied it:

I need to express this carefully but honestly, so here goes. If I was a young, rich, highly fetching actress who had decided a year or two ago that for the time being (or maybe forever) that I was into girls, I would naturally go for the hotties. Which is to say the same kind of foxy, dishy women whom most guys find highly desirable, with or without a same-sex orientation. But no way would I be into (here comes the trouble) dykey-looking women, which is to say women who have what many of us might describe as butchy, male-ish, non-petite features. You know what I’m talking about. I just can’t figure why a beautiful, famous, highly rated bi actress wouldn’t want to hook up with super-hotties. I recognize that butch is a lesbian aesthetic in the same way that bears are a gay male thing, and that I can’t hope to understand or relate to it, but it seems curious. No criticism — I just don’t get it.

And suddenly I had some things to say.

I’m not black, but I am a gay woman living in a straight man’s world. And this blog post (written by an older white man) is exactly the type of thing that everyone is talking about when they comment on white privilege.

When I buy a band-aid or panty-hose in “nude”, they match my skin. When I buy hair care products, they are not relegated to a special section of the store (or a different store entirely). When I get pulled over, I expect nothing more than a ticket for speeding. When I go to a job interview, I expect that I will be judged on my skills, not my skin color. In these ways, I am both privileged and oblivious. I’m not constantly reminded day in and day out of my skin color.

But I am often reminded that I am gay and that it is different than the norm. When I tell people I am married, more often than not I am asked questions about my husband. When I go to a fancy event, I have a stressful internal debate about whether it’s ok to go as myself in pants or if I have to go dressed in a girl costume (a skirt or dress). I rarely see “people like me” on tv, and when I do they are often caricatures.

Luckily I live in a very liberal city, have liberal friends, and a loving family. The crap I deal with doesn’t cause me emotional harm or cost me jobs or make me worry for my safety. But those are very real concerns for a lot of people.

The fact that some guy is flabbergasted that someone else wouldn’t do exactly what he would do and felt so strongly about it that he felt he needed to post a blog about it is EXACTLY WHAT IS WRONG WITH AMERICA TODAY.

It doesn’t matter that he added “no criticism”, because that is exactly what he did. He indicated that women who were not “foxy” or “hotties” were somehow not good enough and that “dykey-looking women” were somehow less desirable. And beyond the gay thing, he has reduced women to window dressings whose sole value is being pretty. And he doesn’t think there is anything wrong with that.

Listen, people are different. We can’t go around assuming they are the same. We can’t assume that one way of being is better than another. We can’t assume that one way is right and another is wrong or that one is good and another is bad. It’s just different.

And different is beautiful. Different is what drives innovation and progress and art. Different is what makes America what it is.

I don’t have a quick and easy answer to the problems that are causing us pain. I can’t erase the anger of the black community. I can’t make homophobes less fearful. I can’t make the police holster their guns.

But I can pay closer attention. I can work harder to notice situations that are better for me because of the color of my skin. I can catch myself before I make an off-color joke or comment. I can seek out conversations and try to learn about people that are different from me and what makes them tick.

I don’t have to like every person in the world and I’m not asking you to. I am asking all of us to be uncomfortable for a while. I am asking for us to think twice and speak once.

I am asking for the guy who wrote that blog to realize that he lives in a very privileged world and to try harder to not be so ignorant.

And, honestly, I’m still waiting for someone to tell me what I can do to make this better. I am a dreamer and a doer as well as a white gay woman.