The Secret of Privilege

Holding Tight to the Secret of Privilege

When we examine our placement in the world, do we always consider the various intersections at which we stand? Do we frequently recount tales where we hold privilege, where others have perceived us as more important, valued, or accessible? Or do we instead emphasize the laborious efforts we've undertaken to emerge from or endure in worlds of trauma, oppression, or poverty?

Why does it seem that, unless we possess numerous privileges, we often feel guilty or ashamed of the few we do have? Reflecting on my social location, I tend to dwell on the hardships I faced to reach this point rather than the conveniences. I don't begin by acknowledging my current financial security or advanced education; instead, I recount my turbulent beginnings in life and academia. I feel compelled to justify my struggles before delving into areas where I've been fortunate.

This inclination partly stems from a fear of judgment—of being perceived as undeserving of my privileges or alienating others. I was ingrained with the belief that genuine connections are forged through shared suffering and commiseration. Yet, I rarely questioned this notion. I often feel the need to validate my worth by showcasing the challenges I've overcome, emphasizing that my achievements are the fruits of sheer grit and resolve rather than the result of privilege or affluence.

When confronting identities tainted by oppression or subjugation, we sometimes suppress aspects of ourselves to assimilate into the "privileged" group. If I possess a learning disability, I must adapt to pass standardized tests, only afterward truly grasping the material. This journey often means masking the unique intricacies of how my brain functions. I might find myself downplaying my intelligence simply because I cannot articulate thoughts in a manner deemed "coherent" to someone whose cognitive processes differ from mine or don't operate at my speed. As a woman, I am pressured to exude strength and clarity but must avoid being overly assertive or contentious; to be attractive without appearing promiscuous, to be kind without seeming feeble. Such societal expectations often force us to suppress facets of our true selves, revealing the toll of inflexible standards and hierarchical structures.

So, when tasked with identifying my position in the vast landscape of social hierarchies, why do I instinctively downplay the privileges that afford me certain comforts? My racial background spares me from the dread of unwarranted scrutiny, prejudice, and the looming threat to my safety. Financial stability allows me to shop for groceries without the anxiety of making ends meet, ensuring my children have ample opportunities and resources to chase their passions. Yet, these are seldom the facets I forefront in discussions about social identity.

I aspire to nurture this introspection, to broaden my self-awareness, celebrating both the remarkable journey that shaped me and the privileges that have eased my path.